Pig review – Nicolas Cage enthrals in an utterly unique anti-thriller

In Michael Sarnoski's utterly unique debut Pig, Nicolas Cage exchanges hamminess for an actual ham and delivers his best performance in years – one that finds his usually hyperactive mannerisms stripped down to the bare basics: voice quiet, body slow, eyes shimmering with a look that relays an entire tragic backstory. It's as though Cage has made a film to show the naysayers he's as capable of nuance as anyone, a rebuttal to the ongoing (and misguided) accusations that he can't act – not that he has anything to prove at this point.

It begins in the vein of one of Cage's now trademark low-budget revenge pictures. He plays Rob Feld, a bearded loner living in the woods with just his truffle-hunting pig for company. He makes his money by selling rare truffles to highly-strung hipster Amir (an intriguing, unusual turn for Alex Wolff). It's only when Rob's prized pig is stolen that he is forced to reenter a world he long left behind, trading the muddy slopes of his forest home for the sterile streets of the city. The setting is, in fact, Portland, Oregon.

What a deeply strange movie this is. Seemingly set in our present reality, it's also one step removed – familiar, but undeniably alien. As Pig pushes back on the promises of the bloody vengeance flick, it instead paves the way for something far more interesting and affecting. At once, this is a study of grief, a love letter to food, a grappling with capitalism that feels as featherlight as it does scathing. Scenes are served up, one by one, like delicate little dishes that entrance on their own terms as much as they do as part of the wider meal.

This is the rare picture that never feels bound by the rules of conventional movie-making. It frequently leaves you wondering whether you’ve missed something, a tiny piece of information that will help you piece it all together. But Pig's brilliance stems from its ability to navigate this story without ever leaning into cliche or bowing to expectations. At times, it's like Sarnoski is inventing a brand new genre, or digging out entirely new ways of telling a story.

Cage’s mysterious performance as a man working through unbelievable pain is the ingredient that ties it all together. In the film's best scene, he delivers arguably the monologue of his career: talking to a former employee over dinner, voice levelled just above a whisper, he speaks every word with an undeniable sting of world-weariness and truth. It's a display of an actor at the height of their powers. Afterwards, Sarnoski cuts to Wolff's awed expression for the reaction shot, and we wonder whether this was just raw footage taken from the day, one actor lost in the talent of another.

Pig glides through its strange, twilight world – a journey made better by Alexis Grapsas and Philip Klein's mesmeric score – until it arrives, ninety minutes later, at a deeply affecting and emotionally overwhelming conclusion, complete with a perfect final shot that encapsulates the ways in which we choose to navigate grief. Pig is many things, but among them, it's proof that sometimes the answer really is a delicious, home-cooked meal.

Pig was shown as part of the Edinburgh Film Festival 2021. It will be released in UK cinemas on 20 August.