If repressive governments inadvertently foster remarkable artistic expressions of defiance, then “Hen” may be a poignant legacy of Viktor Orbán’s far-right administration. This captivating and unique film, narrated through the eyes of a chicken, emerged due to Hungarian filmmaker György Pálfi’s inability to produce work in his own country. After 16 years of cronyism under Orbán’s rule effectively eliminated any funding opportunities for filmmakers in Budapest, Pálfi, known for his distinct films such as the nearly silent “Hukkle” (2002) and the visually arresting “Taxidermia” (2006), found himself in exile. In search of a universal narrative that transcended cultural boundaries, he and co-writer Zsófia Ruttkay decided to focus on the life story of a factory-farmed hen.
The film traces the journey of the hen as she escapes her grim beginnings in Greece, providing a lens through which viewers witness a contemporary Greek tragedy involving a struggling restaurateur who becomes entangled in the harsh realities of human trafficking.
I spoke with Pálfi via video call the day after Orbán’s removal from office, and like many Hungarians, he expressed joy and relief. “Orbán wasn’t a true prime minister,” he remarked. “He only catered to those who supported him, neglecting the wider Hungarian populace. This went on for 16 years, worsening with each passing hour. The new prime minister delivered an inspiring speech, but with 70% of the parliament, he holds considerable power. We can only hope he exercises restraint and restores democracy. He’s promised genuine democratic reforms, so we shall see.”
Facing a lack of financial backing for independent films in Hungary, Pálfi initially traveled to Mexico, gradually shaping the concept of a powerless chicken whose experiences would intertwine with a human narrative. The theme of people smuggling arose after his producer discovered funding opportunities in Greece. “When we realized that a small chicken encounters a significant social issue, it could make for a compelling film,” Pálfi explained, having relocated his family to Greece for a year to better understand the local culture.
The film begins deliberately, chronicling the hen’s birth and her escape from the confines of factory farming. “If viewers can connect with the chicken after the first 15 or 20 minutes,” Pálfi noted, “they become the chicken, and humanity is elevated to a god-like status, reminiscent of ancient Greek mythology. This perspective shift was crucial.”
The narrative evolves when the hen is rescued from a dog by Giorgos, an elderly restaurateur whose struggling seaside establishment faces closure. Giorgos lives with his young granddaughter and a discontented daughter whose unreliable boyfriend introduces a modest smuggling venture involving alcohol and cigarettes. While Hen experiences a humorous romantic situation with a rooster, Giorgos becomes increasingly involved in a more extensive smuggling operation: transporting people into Europe.
To bring this story to life, Pálfi enlisted the help of eight identical hens, each named Eszti, Szandi, Feri, Enci, Eti, Enikő, Nóra, and Anett, who portrayed the brave black hen. They underwent two months of training to become accustomed to human interaction. An animal trainer assisted during filming, and while Pálfi occasionally struggled to distinguish between them, each hen showcased unique skills—one was adept at running, another excelled at pecking, and a third remained perfectly still when necessary. The crew selected the best-performing hen for each scene.
Due to a tight filming schedule that required completing 50 days of script in just 35 days, the Greek cast had to adapt to an unconventional hierarchy where the hens took precedence. “It was challenging for the actors to accept their lower priority,” Pálfi shared. In times of difficulty, he would call upon his favorite hen, Feri. “She wasn’t the best jumper or runner, but she was incredibly familiar with the set. If another hen was unable to perform due to exhaustion or other reasons, we would simply say, ‘Bring Feri,’ and she would step in.”
Pálfi is celebrated for his creative and experimental filmmaking, but working with hens necessitated a more conventional approach. He avoided lengthy shots and complex arthouse techniques, opting instead for traditional Hollywood storytelling methods. “That was a wise choice because the chickens could handle it,” he admitted. When asked if this experience made him more mainstream, he chuckled, “It’s also an interesting experiment in creating a conventional film.”
However, he added a twist to the concept of conventionality. While Hollywood films typically depict their characters from a neck-level perspective, Pálfi filmed “Hen” from a chicken’s eye view, maintaining a low angle. To ensure authenticity, he refrained from using CGI on the hens, although special effects were employed to erase the animal trainer from certain shots. In one early sequence, the hen finds herself on the roof of a service station, pursued by a fox, a scene made possible through special effects that removed the leash from the fox.
“Hen” serves as an innocent observer, offering a fresh perspective on human behavior. At times, it feels as though her watchful gaze is passing moral judgment. “But that interpretation exists solely in the audience’s mind,” Pálfi clarified. “The chicken must remain a chicken. We occasionally explore what a chicken might think, but we are careful to portray her as authentically as possible.”
The film includes moments of humor and romance, yet it starkly reveals the harsh realities faced by both powerless chickens and vulnerable individuals. Its graphic depictions of factory farming and the underlying despair that the hen experiences resonate deeply, drawing attention to the broader struggles of those in similar predicaments.
