Deep in the Oregon Wilderness, Rob (Nicolas Cage) lives alone, off-the-grid, with his prized pig.  During the day, the pair searches the woods for fine truffles and by evening, Rob cooks up delectable mushroom tarts to share with his suidae companion.  One night, however, robbers break into their cabin and steal the pig.  Rob joins his business partner, a city-slick restaurant supplier, Amir (Alex Wolff) to help him navigate a bustling Portland in search for his pig. 

The easy comparison right off the bat is that this Pig will be the art-house cousin to John Wick, but what transpires instead is a beautifully simple – yet intensely engaging – narrative from writer/director Michael Sarnoski in his feature length debut.  It is mostly a very tight narrative, split into three distinct chapters across its 92-minute run time.  What I love most about his script is how the stakes are so low in the grand scheme of things, but it is impossible not to identify with Rob and the love he has for his kidnapped companion.  In doing so, this micro-narrative carries with it the weight of the world, and it will be very interesting to see how Sarnoski’s career develops. 

The only bit of fat comes mid-way through the second chapter, and it is not surprisingly also the weakest sequence, where Rob leads Amir to an underground Fight Club following a hunch on the whereabouts of his prized pig.  While the concept of this clandestine knock-out ring seems a little farfetched, especially in the context of a rather grounded film, it is not without purpose.  It is here where we begin to learn there is more to Rob than we initially were led to believe.  As the film progresses, we come to discover that all three of our main characters are more fleshed out than we would initially believe or even expect.  It is one of the most beautiful aspects of the script: how the characters develop over time, but on such a subtle curve that we don’t really recognize it happening until an explosive and cathartic conclusion with Darius (Adam Arkin) who steals not just the scene, but the entire film, in a performance that one can only hope gets remembered when it is time to nominate this year’s best supporting actors. 

The undisputable, and truly remarkable lead is still Cage who also brings his A-game to the finale of Pig in Darius’ study.  Rob is the latest role in Cage’s cycle of career redefinition à la Robert Pattinson of Twilight fame becoming one of the premier indie stars of today and boasting a resume packed with thoughtful, confounding, and unique roles and films.  While Panos Cosmatos’ Mandy (2018) was a little bit too aggressively and unapologetically niche for my taste, it seemed to reawaken something in Cage.  After being chewed up and spit out by the Hollywood Blockbuster Engine, Cage seems to be returning to his roots where he worked with the auteurs of the 1980’s and 90’s and is now realigning himself with the rising indie boom which we seem to be hovering on the cusp of as an industry. 

Pig is like nothing else on screen right now, or in recent memory, and is exactly the kind of gem that comes along only once every few years, which often flies under the radar, but is deeply rewarding to those who seek it out.  For as gritty as the film can get at times – the catalytic kidnapping, for instance – it is not without tenderness and warmth.  There is a scene shared by Cage and Wolff late in the film, in a kitchen, and the composition of that entire sequence is reminiscent of Gabriel Axel’s Babette’s Feast (1987).  It is the culmination of a film which has a close relationship to food, and as we watch the two move so fluidly through the kitchen, we are reminded of our own lives and the meals we have, or have had prepared, by the ones we love and with those fond memories in mind, juxtaposed by the loss which Rob is experiencing on screen, the gravity of the film becomes inescapable, uncomfortable… yet we can’t look away.