Rob Munday
A coming-of-age story laced with bitter humour, Nicolas Keppens’ (Wildebeest) festival favourite Easter Eggs follows two boys on an adolescent quest for some easy money and a better understanding of their place in the world. Combining an accessible comic book aesthetic with an off-kilter vibe and an excess of dark comedy, it’s easy to see why the 15-minute film impressed juries at Anima, Annecy and Zagreb.
Immersing its audience in its surreal approach from its opening shot – as we witness a boy’s finger playfully appear from a hole, accompanied by the sounds of a car crash – Keepens’ film has a freewheeling, youthful spirit, but its guided by an adult hand. As the filmmaker explains in his director’s statement:
“Easter Eggs brings my childhood together. The intention was to approach it in the same way as how I myself see childhood and adolescence. On the surface a naive quest, an adventure. Episodic as a series of comic books. But underlying with much more complex feelings, struggles and with no real beginning or end.”
“The baker in my grandmother’s street committed suicide. He hung himself in his aviary with beautiful parrots. He left the door of the aviary open and all his colourful birds flew away” – Keppens explaining the origins of his story
With an art style that instantly reminded me of Mike Judge’s King of the Hill – a show I loved in my own teenage years – I felt an instant sense of nostalgia to Easter Eggs and although I may not be able to relate directly to the toxic relationship at the heart of its story, there’s something identifiable in the film’s odd couple.
For young Jason he’s full of adolescent innocence and his desire for acceptance should strike a chord for anyone who remembers what it’s like to idolise an older child. While his “friend” Kevin appears more troubled and struggling with the emotional flooding many encounter at this age, often erupting with a rage he seems unable to quell. In a way, the pair represent two very different stages of childhood and the difficult transition we all encounter in our journey to adulthood.
As Kevin returns home, we get a further insight into the flood of emotions he’s struggling to deal with.
On the surface Easter Eggs may seem to be looking to win over its audience with easy laughs (Jason’s face after drinking the milkshake gets me every time!) and the odd shocking moment, but there’s an unexpected tenderness to Keppens’ short that really heightens the film’s impact. Talk of a local restaurateur who committed suicide and the touching scene where Kevin returns home to find his parents lost in a slow dance add real weight to proceedings, while also creating an effective juxtaposition to the more “goofy” moments in the short.
A contrast that’s also perfectly highlighted in the film’s conclusion, as visually we’re presented with this beautiful moment of the rare birds the pair have been searching for flocking around their sleeping bodies, while the voiceover comically discusses their unbalanced relationship – “Kevin once made me drink poison. As a joke. Afterwards, he usually cries and I get to chose what we do. One time, we dressed the dog up as a Jesus. Another time, we pissed on my sister’s flute.”
It makes for a surprisingly heartfelt ending and like many a good short, it leaves you wondering about the characters long after the film is over. Will Jason and Kevin remain friends? What does the future hold for the pair? Did Jason’s sister play that flute? The world of Easter Eggs is one we’d happily return to.