HEN
(The Green Film Festival of San Francisco runs from October 15 to October 22, check out Jonathan Marlow’s Hen movie review, the film opens the fest. Seen it? Join the conversation with HtN on our Letterboxd Page.)
In the pantheon of anthropomorph-films of the animal variety (of which there are several admirable examples), Hen largely clucks alone. It is, like the animated shorts of yore, material which appears from a cursory position to be crafted for children yet is designed for adults at its core. Indeed, Hen-viewing could be discouraged for those younger than voting-age due to its graphic parallel tale of a gruff Greek restaurateur trying to do the right thing in a world-gone-wrong.
This is not his story, though. This is hers. The title gives clarity to that point.
Picture yourself, instead, in a quasi-documentary existing adjacent to a narrative tale. Dual tracks: one for humans and another, with its own realm of complexities, for the birds. Act I opens within an incubator, gradually focusing on an egg-shell pecked apart to reveal a black chick, lost in a vast field of yellow companions. Her visible differences prove to be an advantage. Advantageous as a distinguishing characteristic for the viewer (and, uncoincidentally, the filmmaker as well).
This anomalous “discoloration” gets her pulled from transport, destination unknown, where she makes a run for the hills at the earliest opportunity. Wanders away, more accurately. “Why does the chicken cross the road?” One answer to this persistently rhetorical question is provided herein: escape!
A close-call leads to another followed by several others, settling for a spell at a taverna along the coast of Greece. Act II, the viewer is treated to a hen’s-eye view of a coop and variations on a chicken-and-egg routine, slapstick in style. Life-in-captivity for a little hen proves far from ideal. In this instance of determination, parenthood becomes an aim. Or personhood, personified.
A score of classically “unclassical” elements interspersed with regional folk songs builds to a crescendo as the bipedal side-characters become enmeshed in sordid trafficking activities. Concurrently, in a convoluted trial by (literal) fire, this unordinary chicken proves, proverbially, to have as many lives as a cat (requiring nearly nine, interchangeably, to portray the role of our protagonist). By Act III, the human and hen threads collide in a panoramic last-stand, an ending with unequal salvation(s).
Hen is an inherently uncharacteristic opening night selection for the annual Green Film Festival (presented under the auspices of the impressively ambitious SF IndieFest) prior to its nationwide theatrical release in early-November. It is not overtly environmental in tone but it dwells considerably on the coexistence of life and, properly, how to live it. The feature-length is the latest from György Pálfi, earnestly represented state-side by the fabulous folks at Dekanalog (who have, in recent years, released or re-distributed all [or nearly all] of Pálfi’s remarkable films throughout North America).
A Greece / Germany / Hungary co-production, executive produced by Ari Aster, if that detail piques your interest (as is the intent). Language-wise, in Greek (with English subtitles) and chicken-spräche (without). If you’ve never fully appreciated the world from the perspective of the hen or her eggs, your next meal might require an alternative arrangement.
HEN [KOTA] (2025 international release / 2026 U.S. release)
dir. György Pálfi [96min.] Dekanalog
— Jonathan Marlow
