Earwig

This review is a slightly amended version of the one published for Earwig's cinema release in 2022.

The dank, dark orange and brown hues that dominate Earwig are only periodically broken by Mia’s (Romane Hemelaers) yellow cardigan, her red coat when she goes outside, and at the end when a huge house is momentarily bathed in sunlight while two of the protagonists are taking part in a body-horror/sadomasochist act, before the end titles.

It’s a denouement that fits a film that appears straightforward only for it to change the perspective of the viewer, at any given time, and time is a factor in Earwig.

Albert (Paul Hilton) is tasked with looking after Mia who has teeth of ice. Her teeth are changed while she wears a contraption that has two small containers at either side of her mouth that siphons off her saliva. This is then poured into a cast and frozen while she has her new teeth fitted.

Her diet is simple, her days are spent moving around what appears to be a semi-derelict house playing. The only sunlight coming through the battered shutters. Albert has his collection of wine glasses to look after and admire.

Then one day he receives a phone call and ordered to prepare Mia to leave and that she must get used to the outside world. The voice is gruff and to the point. Mia always barefoot now giggles at the feeling of socks and boots. Outside while walking in the woods, Mia tears off and tries to commit suicide in a river, saved by Albert and watched from a bridge by Céleste (Romola Garai).

Celeste is a waitress at a bar that Albert frequents and is taunted by a man who calls himself a Traveller (Peter Van den Begin). He invites himself to drink with Albert, goading him to such an extreme that Albert stabs Celeste in the face.

Albert escapes (though there is no sign that the police will be called). Céleste while recovering in hospital is visited by Lawrence (Alex Lawther) says he will look after her, pays for a separate room and offers to take her to the country.
Albert begins to neglect Mia eventually calling in a specialist to fix her teeth. The day arrives and they leave for their destination unaware that Celeste and Lawrence are on the train too.

Earwig has the look and texture of a dark fairy tale – Mia kept locked up because of her condition, blended with body horror, heightened sexual mauling, which looks to take place in a post war European city.

It is dark and claustrophobic with little dialogue and characters that are left for the viewer to construct from the flashbacks and dreams that director Lucile Hadžihalilovic’s (her first film in English), co-written with Geoff Cox, (based on the novel by Brian Catling) strews throughout the film.

It makes for a decidedly intriguing experience in that once you think you have grasped the thread it is promptly cut, and another is loosed or possibly just sets off a hare. It is a puzzle and while the pieces fit together, they don’t necessarily make a coherent picture.

For all the opaqueness of the narrative it is a film to savour as one of the most visually and sonically arresting films released for some time. There are long tracts with no dialogue which rely on sound and images, be it people eating or going about their life.

Or when Albert is gazing at his collection of wine glasses, some coloured and from his perspective the camera revealing the beautiful psychedelic kaleidoscopic effect as light passes through them.

Earwig is now streaming on Shudder.