Pig (2021) Review
"We don't get a lot of things to really care about."
Pig takes its time to get the simple things just right. There's no complicated pasts, no waffling sophistry and no drawn out scenes. This is not your three hour slow burn, this just ninety minutes of pure story. Where dialogue is absent, body language takes centre stage. It could be an assertive lean forward from Robin (Nic Cage) in Finway's, or a flinch from Amir (Alex Wolff) at the mention of his dad. The actors are allowed to breathe and really embody who they're playing. The dialogue that is present is dripping with subtext. Amir's hesitation to tell the truth about his mother's condition indicates what he truly wants for her. Additionally, when he asks Robin if he wants a camp shower, it seems like Amir only cares that his cash cow stay alive. However, by the second watch, it's clear that he has the capacity to care about other people, something his father lacks. All that can be extrapolated in one or two words of dialogue. Meanwhile, Cage doesn't need to say anything most of the time. Whether its visual or auditory clues like the tape from his wife or other characters troubles mirroring his own, his backstory has greater depth than if he were to explain it to anyone directly. Surprisingly, Wolff is able to hold his own against Cage, and the pair really elevate an already great narrative.
There's so much technically right with the film, it begs the question: Does it have anything to say? Portland, and other cities like it, toss the passionate aside in favour of those that perform. Robin was never one of those people. He clearly cares for his work, but due to societal pressure, has become a performer. Having lost his wife and growing distant from his family and colleagues, he decides he needs to make a change and moves to the wilderness. There he only has one responsibility, to take care of his truffle pig. He hates Amir because the young man reminds him of himself. A boy who cares, having to perform for his father. The idea of "staying power" is ever-present. Classical music, traditional films, literature all have staying power. However, what it does to people is a different matter. 'The show must go on.' It makes baring it through gritted teeth the only option. The only option is to work at restaurant I hate for the rest of my life. The only option is to keep my vegetative wife on life support. I can suppress the grief, I can endure. There's a loss of soul. Robin has already learnt to put more care into his work, but what he's forgotten is how to take care of other people.
Pig, is not without its flaws. The ending, felt a little too derivative of Ratatouille to be considered 'grounded' and the twist ending felt as though it robbed Robin of any catharsis; which unfortunately can't be elaborated on due to spoilers. Nevertheless, Michael Sarnoski's feature debut is a triumph that proves small stories handled with great care can make it onto the big screen.
