Pig: Neon NZ Review

Less John Wick, more philosophical musing on how society has crumbled, Pig is a film that benefits greatly from the largely muted performance of Nicolas Cage.

Cage is Rob, an isolated living-in-the-woods ambler of a man, whose long lank hair and ragged clothes make him appear homeless and disconnected from society. Rob leads the life of a truffle farmer, with his trusty pig sniffing out the best delicacies to sell off to his yuppie dealer Amir (Wolff, all slicked-back hair and flashy car).

However, one night without warning, Rob's cabin-in-the-woods door is kicked down, and his beloved truffle pig stolen. Calling on the (seemingly) only person he knows Amir to help him, the hermetic Rob powers into the city with only one thing on his mind - Where is my Pig?

An odd couple pairing of a film that always threatens to erupt into violence, but always takes the more calmly measured philosophical approach, Pig rises on the merits of its two leads.

While Wolff appears to be a boy trying to find his way in a man's world and to shake off a legacy of an elder, his youthful anger early on gives way to a more nuanced turn of a belligerent soul coming to realise his actions have consequences.

Elsewhere, Cage leans heavily into the enigma of the role, with answers not coming early on as to why this man is living alone with a pig, why he's so revered when he returns to the city and why his heart is so broken for the abduction of a porcine pal. Sure, there are a few familiar tropes here that are explored and utilised, and a sign that the philosophies are only skin deep, but Sarnoski's maudlin film is more about the poignancy than the pummeling of faces and answers.

There's a debate to be had from one scene where Cage's Rob eviscerates a man by destroying his empire with words rather than actions and it's here that Sarnoski sets his stall out, by layering the scene with amusing moments, human tragedy and sheer contempt - to say more is to spoil the film's desire to toy with expectations of revelations.

There's a drip feed attached to Pig's proceedings, and when a simple phrase like "I'd like to speak to the chef" can provoke such a mix of emotional responses as laughter and trepidation, you can tell it's a heady concoction that permeates this melancholy movie.

There's an interesting dish served up in Pig - a subversion of expectations works terrifically well and a monosyllabic main actor helps set the scene and underscore the atmospherics. But what Sarnoski does in Pig as events transpire, is to subtly peel back the layers of complexity and hook you in when you least expect it. It's a film that benefits greatly from no fore knowledge - other than the fact that it's a rare piece of cinema that will marinade your soul for days after.