Feld is shaggy looking, but gentle in demeanor, at least when left to his own devices. He was once culinary figure of great local renown, but he now ekes out all the living he needs selling truffles to Amir, a young fine-food dealer trying to follow his father’s footsteps. When junkies steal Feld’s pig at the behest of a mystery villain, Amir gets to be his driver and wingman. It turns out the grizzled hermit knows more of the city’s dirty restaurant secrets than he does.
Pig has been likened to a “John Wick with a pig,” but it is far different tonally and stylistically. Like Oregon truffles, Pig is its own thing, in a refreshingly distinctive way. In place of action set pieces, Sarnoski explores the ways in which foods are tied to memory and emotional responses. It all builds to a third act climax that was definitely a bit of a gamble, but Sarnoski and his small cast pull it off nicely.
As Feld, Nic Cage looks like a wild man, but he is in nearly-silent mode this time around. He still broods harder than ever and goes all in during scenes depicting physical extremes. However, Cage forgoes the raging and snorting we have come to expect from him, in favor of quiet sheer power-emoting. This is restrained work from the master of mayhem, but Cage is genuinely magnetic on-screen.
Pig should not be confused with PIIGS, a movie we ardently wish to see produced, in which Cage would play an angry bond-trader out for vengeance against Portugal, Italy, Ireland, Greece, and Spain, for their ruinous fiscal policies. Regardless, Pig represents vintage Cage and an impressive feature debut from Sarnoski. His patience to let scenes unfold in their own proper time is laudable, as is the atmospheric late-night look cinematographer Patrick Scola gives the film. It is also the redemption Oregonian cinema still needed after Calvin Reeder's unwatchable The Oregonian. Highly recommended for fans of Cage, truffles, and culinary noir, Pig opens this Friday (7/16) in theaters.
