<p>Anders Thomas Jensen’s <a href=“http://screenprism.com/film/page/maend-hns-men-chicken” target=“_blank”><em>Men and Chicken</em></a> (2015), his first directorial work in nearly a decade, is one of the strangest entries in Danish (or any culture's) cinematic library. It’s impossible to categorize—part science fiction, part family drama, and part black comedy, it’s a hybrid of slapstick humor and social satire which, as <a href=“http://variety.com/2015/film/festivals/men-and-chicken-film-review-1201541448/” target=“_blank”>Variety humorously describes</a>, “investigates the roots of Denmark's most twisted family tree since 'Hamlet.'”</p>

<p>In broad strokes, the film follows two brothers who, after the death of their father, find out that they’re only half-brothers and that the paternal figure who raised them wasn’t actually their dad. They set out to find their real father on a remote island town with 40 inhabitants. Instead of finding Dad, they encounter a flock of new half-brothers (each complete with a cleft lip and obnoxious physical features) who live together in a run-down sanatorium filled with chickens, goats, and an abundance of secrets.</p>

<p>It’s essentially a story about mankind’s search for meaning, offering what results in a quasi-literal interpretation of the “chicken and egg” debate, in a manner that absolutely can’t be defined. The tone of the film changes direction more often than a flying bee yet always takes its diversions at just the right moment to stay cohesive and engaging. A less skilled writer than Jensen would make a mess of this oddity of a film, but his prolific screenwriting resume (nearly 50 films) and his presence behind the camera keep the tonal shifts in order.</p>

<p>As <a href=“http://collider.com/men-and-chicken-movie-review-tiff-2015/” target=“_blank”>Collider</a> writes, “The tone is pitched somewhere between dark drama and lunatic comedy. Slapstick and body fluid humor rests next to psychological abuse and tragedy in fascinating ways. It’s hard to tell where the movie is going because the tone fluctuates so freely.”</p>

<p><em>Men and Chicken</em> makes use of a repellant, almost nauseating, color palette that never wavers. The film’s decaying sanatorium stage not only serves as a nod to the human oddities that dwell within but also becomes a character itself, complete with raunchy aesthetics that mirror the inhabitants. The players dress entirely in noxious fashions even Macklemore would dismiss at the thrift shop, representative of each individual’s odd persona. The brothers collectively spend their days playing badminton, making cheese, and physically assaulting each other with taxidermied animals between moments of upholding the film's genuine drama. The grunginess of the setting lends itself to the film’s overall visual tone. We see a blend of real-worldness with surreal gothic horror, resulting in a film universe that's somehow capable of maintaining legitimate audience investment despite all its weirdness. The commitment to the material by the film's main actors, a cast led by David Dencik and a majorly un-sexy Mads Mikkelsen, preserves the absurdist integrity and transforms the plot into something believable, even if it really shouldn’t be.</p>

<p>“What sets the film apart from being just a one-note blackly comedic mind twist (a sardonic episode of the <em>Twilight Zone</em> maybe?) is the decidedly Danish take on the strangeness of human behavior,” <a href=“http://dorkshelf.com/2015/09/13/tiff-2015-men-chicken-review/” target=“_blank”>Dorkshelf</a> observes, noting the film's “slew of terrific performers that include David Dencik, Nikolaj Lie Kaas, Nicolas Bro and Søren Malling, all with great roles previously in some of the stunning works to come out of the rich film world of Denmark.”</p>

<p>All this tonal confusion renders the film’s lasting takeaway a mystery. We’re given answers to some of the film's major questions by the conclusion but still left with a myriad of curiosities about the characters and world. <a href=“http://www.cinemascandinavia.com/film-review-men-and-chicken/” target=“_blank”>Cinema Scandanavia</a> describes its resolution, saying “the film is a postmodern monstrosity: unreadable, unknowable, morbid and cynical.”</p>

<p><em>Men and Chicken</em> is a movie that merits more than one viewing to appreciate its details. There’s simply too much going on—too many tonal shades, allusions, and details to absorb in one go. It’s a film that perverts any precedent for genre definition and builds itself upon that defiance, turning its sick jokes into something rewarding and somehow beautiful.</p>