If there’s one thing Nicholas Cage has proven over his long career, it’s that he can reinvent himself at the drop of a hat. His filmography may be full of ups and downs, but if you disregard box offices and critical receptions, something I have always firmly believed becomes clear: even if no one else cares, the man is enjoying the hell out of himself with each and every role. With all of Cage’s wild-eyed onscreen antics over the years, it’s easy to forget that he has serious acting chops. Michael Sarnoski’s Pig is a wonderful and perhaps overdue reminder of this.
Holding true to his recent spate of weirdo indie films, Cage has chosen a small story with lots of potential for subversive bite. In lesser hands, Pig would likely fall flat, but both director and star manage to wholeheartedly defy expectations at every turn. The actor’s penchant for wildness might be what gets people through the door, but it’s the honest and somber work of the pair that will make them stay. On the surface, it might be easy to say that Pig, has returned the once-revered Cage to proper dramatic form, but personally, I don’t think he ever left it. Sure he’s been off major critical radars for some time now, but I find no fault with someone taking charge of their career by choosing fulfilling or enjoyable roles over lucrative ones. Pig may not be the blockbuster many of Cage’s past films have been, but that all falls by the wayside with an examination of his sincere, haunted performance.
Cage plays Robin Feld, a former chef turned recluse who lives in the woods outside Portland, Oregon. Robin’s only companion is a pig who helps him find valuable truffles, which he then sells to a local distributor (Alex Wolff). Their chosen hardscrabble lifestyle seems to suit the duo just fine despite the obvious hardships, which leaves us to wonder what might push a man into such a state. Before we can think too long about it though, Robin is assaulted and his prized pig is stolen – a violent act that forces him into action. As he returns to Portland to find his missing friend, it becomes clear that Robin has a dark past that must be reconciled. Just how this past manifests itself, however, is one of the most unexpected and somber affairs I’ve seen all year.
The marketing for Pig brilliantly paints the film as a John Wick-styled revenge thriller – something that it most certainly (and thankfully) is not. Sarnoski pushes us further into this most expected territory by continuously hinting at mysterious elements from Robin’s old life, including the existence of an underground fighting ring that caters to restaurant workers (you heard me). Further, with nearly every interaction Robin has, the possibility for violence is nearly palpable – with Cage’s unhinged reputation for overacting on hand to solidify the tension. In a testament to the restraint shown by both Sarnoski’s script and direction, and by Cage’s mastery, this violence never comes to fruition. It isn’t until we’re well into the movie that we realize we’ve been duped in the best way possible. As it turns out, Pig is not a tale of revenge at all, but a heartfelt study of grief and loneliness – and a damned good one at that.
James is a writer, skateboarder, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.