They say revenge is a dish best served cold, that doesn’t necessarily mean is has to be cooked in the heat if rage. Proof of this lay in Pig, a film that sees an epically bedraggled Nicolas Cage play a reclusive man who has to travel back to the city of Portland in order to find his kidnapped truffle pig. Now, I immediately know how this sounds – a revenge movie that sounds like it’s going to be John Wick with an oinker instead of an imperiled pupper – but while Cage has some previous experience with oddball, indie vengence thanks to the violently hallucinogenic Mandy, Pig takes more of a thoughtful, quiet route as it works its way through proceedings.
Taking a quiet, brooding, almost pacifist approach to an obsessive quest, director Michael Sarnoski offers up something that not everyone will embrace, but some will find strangely poignant – so pull up a table and experience a truly curly tale.
Robin is a straggly recluse living in a run down cabin in the Oregon forests who earns cash by using his beloved prized pig to forage for truffles. It’s a simple, cut-off life that only connects with the rest of the world when he sells his wares to Amir, a flashy, but inexperienced supplier of luxury ingredients to high-end restaurants, or listens to recordings of his dead wife. However, his quiet existence is instantly torn asunder when unidentified assailants break into his shack, beat him and steal his pig while he lay unconscious on the floor.
Upon waking up, Robin locks into retrieval mode as he becomes obsessed with getting back his pig-napped pet and manages to rope a bewildered Amir into his quest. But after discovering that a couple of muddle-minded junkies were responsible for the theft, he realises that if he wants to retrieve his porcine companion, he’s going to have to return to Portland to connect with some old acquaintances from his abandoned past life. You see, once upon a time, Robin was Robin Feld, a prominent, high-end chef who commanded respect and awe from his peers, but turned his back on the high pressure life after the passing of his wife. Returning to turn over a few rocks with Amir in tow, they soon delve into the strange, underground world that exists beneath the shiny veneer of Portland restrauntering that include secret fighting rings and a complex network of informants.
However, as Robin’s surreal quest progresses, he soon finds that the brash and cocky Amir not only has something of a tragic past himself, but Robin actually was indirectly responsible for one of the few happier times from his childhood and as the two start to actually start to bond, it becomes clear that Amir’s tyranical father may have something to do with the pig related crime.
Pig is one of those films that seems to have been scuppered a little by a spot of misbranding. A lot of the press at the time of its release jokingly alluded to that joke I made earlier about Pig being John Wick with a different animal – but anyone expecting a dose of classic rage Cage while he furiously breaks faces to rescue his truffle snuffler might be somewhat confused at the restrained, still and unviolent way that Robin approaches his mission. He’s not kicking down doors and shrieking like a crazed banshee – in fact, he doesn’t even raise a finger in anger to anyone, instead using his previous reputation and an unyielding will to wind his way deeper into the mystery that drives him. I have to say, acting with restraint hasn’t always worked out in Cage’s favour before as he had a string of movies come out in the 00s that barely saw him pull a single, recognisable facial expression (anyone else remember Bangkok Dangerous?), however, age and some refreshing temperance sees the famously eccentric performer deliver a nuanced, dialed back performance that sparks with determination and wisdom without having to fall back on any emoting fireworks. It’s from this controlled nature that Pig finds its refreshingly counterintuitive centre as Robin uses his knowhow, his unwavering determination, his memory and even his cooking skills to get what he needs from people and it’s strangely compelling to watch. OK, it may not be as pulse pounding as watching the grizzled dude beat up a room full of things with a rolling pin, but this plainly isn’t the movie Cage and Sarnoski want to make.
The movie they have made actually snuggles in nicely with a lot of instances lately that have gone put of their way to show the vast rewards and punishing effects of being a top of the line chef.
Obviously The Bear manages to convey breakdown inducing stress without resorting to visit an underground fight club for chefs, but Pig would actually make a tantalising side-dish to The Menu that also takes those dedicated to the craft to their absolute limits. However, while Ralph Finnes set up a killing floor for his stuck-up patrons, Pig’s Robin Feld has done the opposite and retreated from that involved by ultimately empty and hollow life entirely by living like a lank-haired prospector. Whether all these instances of media are suggesting that the restaurant business really needs to calm the eff down, we find that Robin’s single-minded purpose soon starts to crack the veneer of Alex Wolff’s punk-ass ingredients man who goes from being a vapid sports car driver who listens to audio documentaries about classical music on his stereo, to someone who begins to face up to his miserable upbringing.
Wolff handles the transition from jumped up prick to vulnerable sidekick well, but the most memorable aspect of the film is the restrained nature of Sarnoski’s direction that eventually went on to have a further outlet in his A Quiet Place: Day One. The film could been a surreal, Alice In Wonderland style decent into the strange world that exists behind the scenes of seemingly normal restaurants – come on, any one who’s ever worked in the food industry will know how perfect a concept a fight club for restaurant people really is – and yet the director keeps a tight grasp of his tone. The result is a movie that, despite the bizarre nature of its story, that’s actually, in turns, quite moving, touching and tense as its themes of loss and mispent ambition unfurls. In the midst of it all, Robin attacks his enemies with a weapon they have no defence for, as his hands turn out to be rated E for empathy which allows the film to go to some strangely emotional places.
Definitely a film that benefits from not having certain expectations placed upon it, both Cage’s measured performance and Sarnoski’s somber direction ensures that Pig transcends its odd subject matter to become a tender meditation on loneliness, generational trauma and loss that, much lime Robin, aims to bring home the bacon.
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