The film marks the narrative feature debut of documentarians Alessio Rigo de Righi and Matteo Zoppis. Indeed, the opening moments, set in contemporary Tuscia, have a documentary-like feel them as we witness a group of elderly men as they meet up at a lodge for an evening of dinner and swap stories, eventually settling on one that is supposed to have occurred in the nearby town of Vejano at the beginning of the 20th century. The story concerns Luciano (Gabriele Silli), a vagabond with a drinking problem who returns to town, where his father is the local doctor, after a long absence. Almost immediately upon his return, he attracts untoward attention by smashing a gateway that has been closed off by the local prince (Enzo Cucchi) and then adds to his problems by falling in love with Emma (Maria Alexandra Lungu), the daughter of a local farmer (Severino Sperandio), who is outraged by the notion that such a man who dare presume to have anything to do with her. To make matters worse, the prince has designs on Emma as well. Tensions continue to build until Luciano finally explodes in a reckless act that proves to have tragic consequences and which forces him into exile.
The story then abruptly shifts to Patagonia, where Luciano has assumed the identity of a priest whose death he witnessed. Before passing, the priest told him the story of a gold treasure buried somewhere in the area by pirates in the wake of a shipwreck. But the only way to find the precise location is to follow the guiding of a mystical king crab that supposedly knows where it is. Luciano sets off on a journey throughout the forests and mountains of the area in search of the gold, all the while following the path set by the crab that he totes around in a bucket filled with water. At the same time, a group of bandits are in pursuit in the hopes of grabbing the treasure for themselves, leading to an all-but-inevitable final showdown between themselves and Luciano, who is less interested in the gold itself as he is in what it represents—a possible way to return home.
I recognize that my basic description of the plot particulars may make “The Tale of King Crab” sound like a combination of the primitive and the ludicrous, but del Righi and Zoppis have found just the right tone to make the material work. Instead of playing it all for laughs or irony, they employ a narrative style that’s direct and unabashed in ways that evoke what we felt as children when we heard stories of Love, Honor, Greed, Betrayal and other primal emotions. As strange as the proceedings get from time to time, they are staged in such a compelling manner that you simply accept them rather than try to find ways to feel superior to the material.