Gialloween Day 5: Death Laid An Egg
Laden with allegory, metaphor, and symbolism, Death Laid an Egg is an apt reflection of man’s inability to control oneself when encountered with the carnal desire of greed— a solidified propensity for the reflection of weakness quantified with imagery that is rife with reflection. It commands the audience’s very well being in its interpretation of the human psyche.
If that superfluously pretentious introduction stirred your interest then you are in for a treat with this weird-ass avant-garde stupendously grating proto-giallo. A murderous love triangle set in a high tech chicken factory. That is the best I can give you with two viewings that was the giallo equivalent of pulling teeth.
The elements of giallo this film has— murder, spiral staircases, beautiful people— is smashed to oblivion with a style of editing that is like running with scissors across a pool deck smeared in butter. Amplifying the feeling of confusion is a clearly avant-garde soundtrack that literally sounds like random notes being played at random intervals. This film is just. UGH.
If the elements of the giallo were inside an egg, this film would serve it scrambled in the pan, mixed with some egg shells and feathers, burned and flipped onto the stove itself. The stove would then be ripped from the kitchen and transported onto a rotating waterbed because ‘Hey, it’s in fashion’. Your breakfast dish is finally served, but luckily for you, as soon as you take a bite the restaurant is closed and you are exiled on a farm. That’s what it’s like to watch Death Laid an Egg.