If there is something literature has taught us, it’s not to cross a man and his beloved pet – and in the instance of Pig, doing so can have long-lasting consequences on anyone daring enough to get in the way of a beloved companion. The directorial debut of Michael Sarnoski is one of the year’s more notable curiosities, a strange and disquieting metaphysical odyssey that is far too difficult to even consider classifying. Yet, it has become something of a minor sensation, mostly for the performance given by the actor in the central role, and the general tone of the film, which defies almost everything we know to be true about the medium, and the extent to which it is willing to go to tell a particular story. If anything, Pig is a film that has some minor flaws, but which are easily outweighed by the more distinct strengths, mostly the fact that the director seemed to understand the fundamental aspects of how to make a compelling film, as well as the simple but effective value of a story well-told, which is something not too many filmmakers have been all that focused on recently, with the emphasis of stylistic, experimental works that push the boundaries of cinema obscuring the valiant efforts by directors like Sarnoski, who may produce films that are a lot smaller and less notable in a traditional sense, but are not any less impactful or remarkable than the more excessive works that are made concurrently. In short, while it may have its imperfections, Pig is a tremendously affecting, and perhaps even deeply important, work of contemporary filmmaking, the kind that reminds us that independent cinema doesn’t only have to be restricted to one particular style or mode of storytelling, and that sometimes, a more daring and provocative work will come around that will cause us to question the limits of what can be done on screen, and how far some will go to tell a particular story.

Pig is a film that relies on its very simple premise to propel itself forward – a former chef and reclusive truffle forager lives in the forest outside the bustling city of Portland, where he and his beloved pig spend their days looking for these elusive but valuable mushrooms that are adored by the high-society just on the other side of the wilderness. After the pig is mysteriously stolen in what appears to be a targetted crime, the protagonist sets out to find his companion, only to be thrust into a world of deceit and malice that he never expected to encounter, even if he knew there was a lot more to this world than he initially was comfortable to admit. It’s a straightforward story that relies on the viewer to just follow in its line of logic in order to get to a coherent point. We know that the film is leading somewhere, but it’s a clear case of the journey being mired by mysterious, ambigious moments that don’t mean much at first, but rather reveal a much deeper meaning after the fact. Sarnoski seems to be very interested in deconstructing the traditional style of storytelling by making sure that we are invested in the journey, but rather than being captivated by the path forward, we’re more intent on uncovering the clues that lurk beneath these mysterious scenes. The film is driven by a keen sense of carnal rage, every moment being propelled by the palpable anger felt by the main character in the pursuit of his prized pig, who means much more to him than we’d realize – and like any strong drama, Pig doesn’t lay all of its proverbial chips down at once, preferring to gradually unveil its secrets over the course of the journey. It’s very unique and quite consistently provocative, but in a way that seems incredibly constructive, especially when looking at the development of the story in conjunction with how the main character is constructed, one assisting the other considerably.

Most of the attention received by Pig is centred on the performance given by Nicolas Cage, and quite rightly so. Cage, who has become something of a folkloric figure due to the last two decades of choosing mostly subpar work that rarely gives him the chance to showcase the fact that he’s an incredible actor, is turning in one of his strongest performances in years. Sarnoski, like a handful of other directors, is smart enough to realize that, despite some poor choices, Cage isn’t a bad actor, he’s just one that doesn’t often pay much attention to the quality of the work, leading to claims that he isn’t a strong actor, when it is the opposite that is true. It sometimes takes a very gifted and daring filmmaker to cast the divisive actor in a role intended to not merely be driven by his status, but rather to showcase his wealth of talents, which are as present today as they were when he debuted as a young, rambunctious actor in the 1980s. Pig affords Cage the chance to develop his craft by playing a much more internal role – it’s not a character entirely out of his wheelhouse, but he knows how to carefully pull the layers apart, finding the interesting nuances that are concealed under his rough exterior. This is obviously effective in how the character is an intensely brooding, complex man, but it oddly works the best when Cage has to do more sensitive work, relying on a deep sense of compassion that he has shown many times before, but which have become quite elusive in recent years. Ultimately, Pig is primarily a showcase for Cage, and while there could be an argument made that this is such an interesting role, absolutely any actor could effectively play the role, only he could bring this blend of eccentricity and deep, unflinching honesty to a very simple but evocative role that relies almost entirely on his ability to sift through an endless stream of emotions to find the most authentic angles at which to approach the character.

If there is one complaint about Pig that can’t be ignored, it is that it constantly seems like the film doesn’t know exactly what it wants to be. While genre-bending isn’t only common in modern independent film, but rather often encouraged, it sometimes doesn’t work as well for some productions that others. Pig starts as a psychological thriller, intent on exploring the internal life of this character. It then evolves into an existential drama about very deep issues, while then having a strong sense of mystery, where the solution may have been lurking just out of view. The problem isn’t that Pig doesn’t know exactly what it wants to be, it just struggles to find the genuine location in terms of genre, which impacts it slightly, since as much as Cage is raring to go in every scene, even he sometimes feels slightly lost in the world of this film, especially when there is a perceived lack of explanation for many important points. This is not the only film that utilizes ambiguity as a narrative tool, but it is one that slightly struggles to define itself, since most other films that struggle with making sense of its environment at first will normally establish a strong genre presence at first, which in turn allows the story to develop organically. Far too much is left vague in Pig, and while this can be considered quite enduring in terms of the film being a faux-mystery, the kind of film that doesn’t necessarily require resolution to be understood, it does distract from the more interesting nuances that are ultimately pushed aside in favour of the central storyline, which is undeniably strong, but just needed a more clear sense of direction, especially since, piece for piece, the film is exceptionally well-composed.

Pig serves to be quite an audacious debut for the Sarnoski, who is a director who is certainly one to watch, if this film is anything to judge. In all honesty, this isn’t one of those miraculous cases of a director emerging from obscurity and delivering a near-flawless film on their first attempt. It’s a film that is rough around the edges, often quite deeply unsettling, and frequently quite difficult to follow, all of which are seemingly intentional, as part of the director’s continued attempts to create an atmospheric, disquieting world that is built less on story, and more on emotion. We feel every sensation experienced by the main character – anger, despair and, eventually when the truth is revealed, deep sadness, the emotional content of the film being amongst its most significant strengths. Pig is a very good film, and a worthy entry into a steadily growing canon of independent films that defy categorization, preferring to define themselves along the lines of a sense of working through emotions and more abstract ideas, knowing that meaning will come eventually as long as both the artist and their audience are willing to just follow the film and its very distinct attempts at resolving some deeper issues through engaging with a more disquieting version of the world. The best way to describe Pig is as a socially-conscious psychological thriller about a man and his search for his cherished pig, which takes him to the deepest and most unsettling corners of society – it may not be a perfect description, but it’s a good place to start, and offers the viewer an accurate set of expectations when going into this odd but captivating independent drama.