Pig review: Nicholas Cage mesmerizes in intimate, contemplative drama

Infamous for his hit-or-miss roles, film legend Nicholas Cage has once again proven that, among a sea of questionable projects and eclectic roles, he can deliver a truly revelatory performance when he sets his mind to it. His latest film, Pig, is a deeply emotional and ruminative drama that showcases some of Cage’s most stunning work to date – a celebration of his depth as a performer, complemented by a whip-smart script and a wonderful second fiddle in Alex Wolff.

Though not as well-paced as it could be, Pig is one of the most moving cinematic experiences we’ve had in years – an unmissable feat that reminds us how powerful of a performer Cage can be.

Pig follows a surly, reclusive truffle hunter named Robin (Cage), who lives isolated from the rest of the world in rural Washington, his only companion a prize truffle-finding pig. But when Robin’s beloved pig is stolen in the middle of the night, he re-enters society with the help of up-and-coming restauranter Amir (Alex Wolff) to track down and recover his stolen swine. Along the way, Robin and Amir cross paths with several of Robin’s former friends and acquaintances, many of whom Robin has left a lasting impact on – even if he only knew them for a short while.

Pig is such an intimate, character-driven film that it could only truly succeed with the right actor as Robin, and Nicholas Cage could not have been more perfectly cast for the part. Underneath ratty clothes, layers of caked dirt and a truly impressive beard, Cage lends a strangely endearing quality to the often standoffish, antisocial Robin, who we eventually learn was an acclaimed cook in the Portland culinary scene before disappearing to live in the woods and hunt truffles.

Cage balances the dichotomy of a city slicker-turned recluse perfectly: Robin is visibly disoriented and unsettled upon re-entering society for the first time, but he has a razor-sharp wit that lurks beneath his crusty exterior, and the kind of brutal, thoughtful honesty that makes him a magnetic presence both for the audience and the characters.

Even if at first he comes off as rude or dismissive, the second Robin opens his mouth, it’s impossible not to hang on to his every word – he’s not a particularly talkative protagonist, but his pearls of quiet wisdom and obvious (if quiet) passion for both his pig and his craft makes him a magnetic presence.

Everywhere he goes, Robin touches the lives of those he interacts with or is reminded of how he impacted them in the past – despite having spent so long as a recluse, his name still has power in the city, both in the literal and figurative sense.

At his side through nearly the entire ordeal is Alex Wolff’s Amir, a Gucci belt-wearing Camera-driving rich kid looking to start his own brand in the Portland culinary scene who relies on Robin for the truffles in his restaurants. T

Though at first Amir comes off as the type of performative, superficial person who might steal a truffle pig just to get ahead, as the film progresses and he spends more time getting to know Robin, Amir blossoms into a complicated young man who’s torn between wanting to forge his own path and please his father.

In addition to having his own beautifully realized arc that serves as the link between Cage and the pig-napper, Amir is also a perfect comedic and tonal foil for Robin: his neurotic, often incredulous attitude contrasted wonderfully by Robin’s drier-than-dry delivery.

They make for a wonderful comedic duo (many of the film’s funniest moments – and there are a surprising amount come from Amir) but a dramatic one as well – Amir serves as the audience stand-in, and it’s fascinating to watch Amir grow closer to Robin and vice versa, both men learning that there’s more than meets the eye with their new uneasy friendship.

As the duo journeys through Portland, they make a number of interesting stops on their wild goose chase – some more effective than others. The film struggles to find its footing and the first act and could probably stand to lose 15 minutes, as the stops for information to begin to feel a little arbitrary when they don’t tie in to Robin or Amir’s personal arcs.

Heading into the second act, though, each destination peels back another layer and gives insights into Robin’s history, his abilities, and all of the people he’s touched during his time in the culinary scene. In that respect, Pig shares a few thematic similarities with Chef, in that both films celebrate the power of food and the capacity for change that it holds, while also poking fun at yuppie food culture in the Pacific Northwest.

Despite the self-aware critiques of the culinary world, though, Pig at its core is a ruminative, reflective film – with such a quiet lead, the film forces its audience to truly sit with each line of dialogue as it comes and feel the full emotional weight of Robin and Amir’s journey as they get to know each other and themselves better in the search for Robin’s pig. Above anything else, Pig emphasizes the power that one person, one dish, or even one ingredient can have in your life – a melancholic but uplifting idea that is embodied in Robin’s interactions with the people of Portland.

While it may not be perfectly paced, Pig is a beautifully shot film whose dynamic leads propel its rock-solid emotional core to new heights. With the power of Nicholas Cage and a truffle-hunting pig, direct Michael Sarnoski crafts a stunning, resonate film that delivers one of the most resonant cinematic experiences in years.