Direction: Alessio Rigo de Righi, Matteo Zoppis
Country: Italy
The Tale of King Crab, a slow-burning folk tale, is more entertaining and atmospheric than essential viewing. What I've just said doesn’t take away the merits achieved with the categorically photographed images (the film was shot in 16mm), a sublime mise-en-scene that feels completely appropriate for the 19th-century ambience, and the volatile moodiness and cinematic poetry that, despite the slow pace, provide a certain rhythmic backbone to the story.
Co-directed and co-written by Alessio Rigo de Righi and Matteo Zoppis, who sign here their first fictional feature, the film tells the legend of Luciano (newcomer Gabriele Silli), a depressed man who returns to his secluded hometown in the Tuscia region, after a period of time spent in Rome. Seen by the villagers as a drunkard, a madman, an aristocrat, and a saint, Luciano takes the path of gold-digging adventure after being extradited to Tierra del Fuego, in the far south of Argentina.
This bittersweet picture is as odd as it is mesmerizing. Even if over-ambitious at times, it still unveils disenchantment, disgrace, survival, and avidity with a personal touch. Yet, some connotations with Lucrecia Martel’s Zama and Werner Herzog’s Aguirre are not unreasonable. Crab is not an easy chew. But if you find a way to crack open its austere exterior, there is a treasure to be found.
