Revenge dramas are generally triggered by a sense of sudden loss, one that becomes the basis for a lone figure to take on the world at large. Be it John Wick’s mercurial wrath being ignited after losing his beloved dog, Daisy, or a frenetic Bryan Mills hell-bent on saving his daughter in Taken, revenge dramas usually cater to a series of set expectations from a narrative point of view. However, this is not the case with Michael Sarnoski’s Pig, which unravels in ways uncharacteristic of a revenge thriller but manages to make every aspect work while defying genre expectations. An intense slow-burn, Pig is a beautiful meditation on the true meaning of loss, replete with vignettes drenched in humor, pathos, and violence.
Pig opens with the lush greenery of the Oregon woods, home to a lone, heavily bearded man named Rob (Nicholas Cage), whose sole companion is a truffle-hunting pig. Rob spends his days in his isolated cottage, training his pig to scavenge valuable fungi, which he sells to a needlessly upbeat youth named Amir (Alex Wolff). Hints about Rob’s past are tentatively dropped via numerous visual cues, such as the way he carefully folds the dough for the rustic mushroom tart he makes for himself and the beloved animal, immersing himself in the heavenly aroma of the fresh ingredients used. This domestic bliss is soon disrupted when a group of unseen figures steal Rob’s pig in the dead of night, which is a common occurrence in the wildly cutthroat underbelly of the culinary world. Emotionally devastated, Rob turns to Amir to drive him to Portland in an effort to track his prized companion.
What ensues is series of unpredictable events, concerning a secret passageway in a restaurant, an underground fight club, a startling revelation, and an arresting conversation in a pretentious Michelin restaurant. Rob’s true identity is gradually revealed, and it soon becomes clear that the name Robert Felt means a great deal in the culinary industry, to the point of evoking gratitude, awe, and fear. It is interesting to note that Pig is not a run-of-the-mill revenge thriller, as it lingers on moments that are pregnant with pathos, rife with observations about existence that weigh heavy on the characters involved.
In a particularly fascinating scene, where Amir serves Rob French toast and deconstructed scallions for breakfast, the latter plunges into the futility of a transactional existence, which can be wiped away in an instant by a natural calamity. The extent to which humans scheme, negotiate, hustle, and often double-cross one another to gain certain things in life appear extreme, cruel even, in the face of things that truly matter. One of the greatest strengths of Pig is the way in which Sarnoski rations the reveals about its key characters. These revelations are never too on-the-nose, or dealt with in ways that feel staged or inorganic - interestingly, an air of mystery still surrounds Rob right up to the final shot, which is not an easy feat to master.
Formidable restaurant product broker Darius, played with steely resolution by Adam Arkin, emerges as a key obstacle between Rob and his animal, which can only be won over by the power of food. The rich delicacy of working with textured aromas, the act of breaking bread together, and the gesture of crafting a dish for someone, can be deemed a lost love language in today’s transactional culture, the value of which is highlighted by Pig in somber and beautiful ways.
Despite being an emotional rollercoaster, Pig never feels bloated, as it manages to remain grounded throughout its runtime. This is made possible by Cage’s incredible performance as Rob, a man who refuses to be medically treated despite being caked in his own blood, speaking in measured whispers while his eyes shine with a deadly intensity. Wolff is also impressive as the wonderfully dynamic Amir, who strikes up an endearing companionship with a man who has experienced inconsolable loss. While not every question is answered, such as the exact reason why Rob chose to shed his former life and go off-the-grid, or what happened to the woman whose cassette tapes still lay around his house, Pig is an emotionally gratifying experience like no other.
Pig is playing in U.S. theatres as of July 16, 2021, courtesy of Neon. The film is 92 minutes long and is rated R for language and some violence.