Pig stars Nicolas Cage as a truffle-foraging recluse on the trail of whatever varmints made away with the curly-tailed pet of the title. The set-up of Michael Sarnoski’s directorial debut could easily lean into the actor’s recent run of unhinged thrillers, including such delirious delights as Mom and Dad, Mandy, and Colour Out of Space. There are moments in the script – co-written by Sarnoski and Vanessa Block – that flirt with the world-building of John Wick and the underground society of Fight Club.
Pig, however, is its own beast, one that plays fort-da with what Cage has himself characterised as his shaman-channelling “mega-acting”. The film repeatedly tips the actor into possible furniture-chewing scenarios only for Cage to retreat into nuanced quietude. It’s his most contemplative performance in years, a reminder of a time when David Lynch hailed Cage as “the jazz musician of American acting”.
The film built around the actor’s affecting turn works equally hard at upending expectations.
Cage plays Robin Feld, a former Portland-based chef turned hermit living off-grid in Oregon’s forests. He is entirely alone, save for the company of his prize, truffle-hunting pig and regular visits from Amir (Alex Wolff), a slick supplier of luxury ingredients to high-end restaurants.
One night, unidentified assailants steal Rob’s pig and he’s forced to turn to Amir, who dutifully drives Rob to Portland, the city he left behind long ago, in order to track down the hog-napping culprits.
There’s a lovely two-step between Cage and Wolff, as the latter’s brash, moustached entrepreneur reveals a personal history that is almost as tragic as the hero’s own. There are satirical swipes at the pretensions of high-end cuisine. An electrifying exchange between Rob and a chef who has opened a snooty restaurant instead of the pub he always wanted to run is emblematic of the film’s distaste for bad faith and people-pleasing.
The technical specs, including Patrick Scola’s cinematography and a score by Alexis Grapsas and Philip Klein, are excellent. But it’s the film’s tragicomic playfulness that makes the biggest impact. Having Cage walk around in the same dirty clothes and a patina of dried blood for most of the movie’s duration – hat’s off to Janet Beeson and the hardest-working continuity department since Die Hard’s vest retired – promises new hilarious Cage memes, only to deliver indelible sadness.
