Pig knows exactly what audiences think it’s going to be and subverts those expectations wonderfully. The trailers presented the Nicolas Cage film as a thriller about a man whose prized pet was stolen, forcing him to venture out of his solitude and exact revenge. It was sold as First Cow meets John Wick.
But Pig is not John Wick, despite opening with a violent beatdown and containing a sequence set at an underground fight club (for chefs!). And while its cinematography and culinary bent may call to mind Kelly Reichardt’s film from last year, there are also whispers of something more graceful. Sure, there’s some First Cow here; but I didn’t expect Babette’s Feast to come to mind. Pig is an unexpectedly beautiful and, dare I say it, transcendent film, near the top of a short list of my favorite movies of 2021.
Bringing home the bacon
Cage plays Robert, a man living in the Oregon wilderness. He’s no fan of shaving, showers or electricity, but he loves his pet pig. He uses the pig to find truffles that he sells to a supplier, Amir (Alex Wolff), who in turn sells them to high-end restaurateurs in Portland. There are hints that Rob had a previous, much different life years earlier. He has an innate knowledge of the culinary world, and there’s a cassette of a mysterious woman he can’t bring himself to play all the way through. He’s quiet, ornery and haunted.
Shortly after we’re introduced to Rob and the rhythms of his life, they’re disrupted. A pair of tweakers breaks into his shack, beats him over the head and absconds with the pig. Without even cleaning the blood from his face, Rob starts his ancient pickup and heads into town, asking Amir to guide him into the world of underground restaurant suppliers to locate the pig. As he does, Rob must confront the life he left behind and the grief that has sent him into isolation.
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Not without my sow
With Nicolas Cage as the lead, there are numerous ways this movie could go. If I said that Pig was a movie where Rob ventured into the city and dispensed bloody justice over a stolen pet pig, it could easily be seen as another of those left-field, bonkers Cage performances. You can almost envision him going wild-eyed as he dispenses punishment on the pig-snatchers, perhaps even letting out a “sooie!” as he brings down a baseball bat on a vicious villain. That would be totally in line with the Cage who stars in Mom and Dad, Willie’s Wonderland or any of the other direct-to-video, low-budget shlock he’s starred in over the years.
Director Michael Sarnoski understands Cage’s ability to engage both absurdity and depth, and uses that to his advantage. He keeps Rob’s past a mystery for the first half of the movie and introduces some of the more sordid elements of the world to keep us on our toes. By the time we reach the underground fight club, where restaurant employees take out their frustrations for cash, it’s unclear where this slow burn is heading. Cage betrays nothing; Rob remains turned in and mysterious; is his anger coiling and ready to burst out? Will this film suddenly explode into an orgy of violence?
But Pig has weightier matters in mind. And what follows is a quiet look at grief, empathy and the things we attach meaning to. It’s a movie that’s about sorrow, but not exactly sorrowful. There are moments of beauty and thoughtfulness, a tender friendship that develops based on mutual loss, and surprising moments of quiet grace and contemplation. I imagine it’s not easy to direct a movie that opens with underground fighting and closes with a meal and conversation without inflicting tonal whiplash on the audience, but Sarnosky’s deft command of tone never makes any of its developments feel out of place or unearned.
Cage stage
Cage is key to the film’s success. It’s tempting to describe Rob as a raw nerve, but that would likely call to mind energetic, frenetic performances from the actor. He’s more like a numb nerve, weighed down by grief and haunted. That weight only grows the closer Rob returns to his old life.
Yet it’s not a dour performance, nor is Cage sleepwalking. There’s a weariness in his eyes, a sadness not just for what Rob has lost but for the lostness he recognizes in people scrambling for approval, success and other things that he’s learned don’t matter. There’s acceptance in those eyes, even a hard-won peace. There’s a scene late in the film where Rob meets a local chef where we’re able to see the reason fueling his eccentricities and rejection of modern life; Cage sells it without it feeling like a collection of platitudes.
I appreciated the relationship that forms between Amir and Rob. It’s prickly and contentious at the start, but Cage and Wolff have strong chemistry, and the two characters find that they’re both no strangers to grief. Adam Arkin eventually appears as a man with a connection to both, and who might hold the key to finding the pig. The relationship between the three, as well as a fateful evening in their past, proves key to the events of the final act, which takes a turn that is surprising and more thoughtful than I’d expected. It leads to a final moment that brought me to tears with its commentary on letting go, closure and loss.
Cage has become something of a punchline in recent years, a constantly meme-able personality whose name is shorthand for taking paycheck roles and going over the top. That’s unfair. Like most actors, he’s appeared in his fair share of dreck, and it’s not secret he’s picked up work for the money. But every few years, he reminds us what he’s capable of. A few years ago, it was the intensity of Mandy; this year, it’s his haunted work in Pig. Cage remains one of our most interesting and watchable actors, and I think he’s more canny about the performances he gives and the types of movies he’s in than we give him credit for.
Pig is one of the best films of 2021 and a highlight of Cage’s career. It is available to rent and own on VOD.