Egg

Born in the shadow of censorship and fridge light, Egg began when a roommate left for good — after seeing a tote bag from the Porn Film Festival hanging in the bathroom, and an egg-shaped clown nose on the door knob, mistaken for a breast, worshiped as a possibility. Every leftover object started whispering its own desire, and soon the filmmakers followed, cracking open their own obsession with eggs.

Between fragility and fertility, between breakfast and birth, the film dives into the shell — queer, trans, non-binary, immigrant, and sex-working hands of the film team turning the yolk into a mirror. The egg becomes a world, a wound, a playful joke. A low-budget tactile rebellion that asks: what if home is just what we carry in our pockets? What if play is a politics of survival, joy as an act of resistance?

The Egg collective consists of precarious queer artists who film with cracked cameras, cook with broken stoves, and hatch play spaces wherever they land.