Angel’s Egg celebrates its 40th anniversary with a striking 4k restoration and theatrical release.
To certain viewers, the cult-classic animated film Angel’s Egg is something of an endurance test. Written and directed by Mamoru Oshii (Ghost in the Shell), the effect of the 4k restoration is grandiose and ephemeral. The remaster conveys greater clarity and vibrancy while preserving the shadows and grain of the original print. The film’s elusiveness only adds to its overall quality, a lost gem found that highlights the picture’s unlikely longevity and the filmmaker’s specific strength.
With its German Impressionism and the Metropolis, architectural stylistic touchpoints Oshii painstakingly captures, the film immediately submerges us into its depths. Yet, with little spoken dialogue (the first 30 minutes are devoid of it) and drawn-out shots that let the scenery around the two featured characters do the talking, it’s no surprise that Angel’s Egg requires patience. So much of this world is conveyed through visual suggestion.
Considering the film is a collaborative effort between Oshii and artist Yoshitaka Amano (best known for his work for series such as Vampire Hunter D, Speed Racer, and, of course, Final Fantasy), the artistry is so immense, so overwhelming, that it becomes clear that dialogue was never the focus.
Despite the short runtime, the film offers plenty to think about.
The narrative itself is unassuming, with a bare-bones approach. In this barren, gothic world, there seemingly exist only two characters. A girl (Mako Hyōdō) who protects a mysterious egg and a boy (Jinpachi Nezu) who has a dream about a bird. How the two come together and how their respective dreams intersect (hers to come, his past) is what drives the plot forward.
But the film finds its strength beyond the synopsis. The oppressive, unsettling score by Yoshihiro Kanno is a teeth-grinding blend of the Symphonic Suite Akira and white noise. The Biblical thematic undercurrents, and the lead character’s desire for a shapeless, nameless “more” give the film its forward, meditative motion. That, and the meditative, flow that allows the expressive animation to render us spellbound.
Believing the large egg to be an angel’s egg, the young girl traipses throughout this underwater, abandoned city, filled with oddities and all things macabre. There are a few hints that suggest proof of life, and yet what exists is so alien, so off-putting, they seem better suited for a feverish nightmare than reality.
Contrasting ideologies against a silent, post-apocalyptic landscape.
From a mechanical sun that greedily consumes its light to the sinewy, skeletal mechs that roam the city and the gray men who furiously chase shadowy whales with their puppet-string harpoons, this reality is one where humanity has been replaced by the mechanical. There’s more muscle and fat in the tanks than in the soldiers.
That the only other real, tangible human who arrives is a boy who carries a gun in the shape of a cross only adds to the religious undertones that scorch the earth of the story. It’s telling that the only real pops of color shine through in the few remaining, often shattered columns of stained glass. This subtle, vibrant touch helps build on the religious connotations while also suggesting a relic of time. Or, rather, time passed and long gone.
The girl with the egg and the boy with his gun face silent opposition regarding their ideologies, manifesting in the visuals themselves, an exercise in the details of contrast. And it all boils down to what this eerie story suggests—a tale of vacancy, of lack thereof. The girl sees the egg as something symbolic, a chance at new life in a city devoid of it. The boy sees a threat, something foretold in a dream. Something that carries the weight of destruction.
An unlikely and unsettling journey.
Together, the two embark on a journey through purgatory, caught between eras, beliefs, life, and death itself. One descends in an effort to destroy hope for the sake of truth, while the other, in an effort to protect life, plummets to symbolic martyrdom, a frozen vestige of a past time, past life. And through it, we bear witness to humanity’s desperation, perseverance, and delusion as people seek hope in cavernous pits of overwhelming darkness.
It’s heady stuff, and the ending is perplexing in its ambiguity. Angel’s Egg is less about thinking and more about the feeling the imagery inspires. Bleak, ruinous, and damp, each pocket of this world blends the old and new into something garish yet timeless. From science-fiction elements to classical, gothic imagery and monochromatic styling, the visuals are dense and textured, brought to life even further in the 4K restoration. But there’s also the historical context, as Japanese filmmakers continued to grapple with post-war Japan and the devastation wrought by World War II. When blanketed with spooling darkness, this world at times resembles a tomb.
From the opening, introductory moments until the dazzling yet puzzling conclusion, Angel’s Egg embarks on an unlikely operatic, tumultuous journey that tiptoes across the backbone of an orchestral suite. Despite the subtle character expressions and performances, there’s so much feeling here. Take, for instance, the scene where the boy lays the girl to rest, sitting in her room as we watch as the candles slowly begin to dim, until they’re surrounded by darkness, only for the significant act of violence to commence. Where there is no light, there is despair.
Angel’s Egg instills a breathless, depressive wonder.
No words are necessary as we watch the extinguishing of any light the story possessed. Men who flock the street to kill the leviathan-like creature, and the seemingly skeletal remains that encase the city, the innards trailing the deeper they traverse, all speak of decay and madness without it being explicitly stated. The hand-drawn backgrounds create an omnipresent cocoon that also makes a home for the girl to live in, a nesting labyrinth of traditional (see: the stained glass) and the high-tech futurism inherent to Oshii’s work.
The girl travels with the egg, gives it warmth and comfort, seeks the sound of breath and fluttering wings, possessed by the restless desire for hope. Hope for life and companionship. Or maybe rebirth or forgiveness. For something more than the haunting and desolate world she finds herself in.
Oshii’s influence on animation is evident across the past 40 years of cinema. Angel’s Egg, albeit brief, lays the groundwork for a filmmaker who would become synonymous with the medium, between Oshii’s direction and the artistic impulses of Amano, the two bottle misery by way of ominous, oppressive designs that tower against ever-darkening skies and a stifling sense of loss. With great depth and artistry, the film will leave you breathless as we try to keep up with all that the story conveys through its rich visual narrative. All the while, showcasing the devastation wrought when hope, however manifested, is stolen.
Angel’s Egg is playing now in theaters through GKIDS. Watch the trailer below.
Images courtesy of GKIDS.
REVIEW RATING
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Angel's Egg - 9/10
9/10
Based in New England, Allyson is co-founder and Editor-in-Chief of InBetweenDrafts. Former Editor-in-Chief at TheYoungFolks, she is a member of the Boston Society of Film Critics and the Boston Online Film Critics Association. Her writing has also appeared at CambridgeDay, ThePlaylist, Pajiba, VagueVisages, RogerEbert, TheBostonGlobe, Inverse, Bustle, her Substack, and every scrap of paper within her reach.
