Starts out a workmanlike indie drama but deepens, almost imperceptibly, into something far more rich and full, bordering on the mythological—there's a reason the tacky New American haute cuisine spot is called Eurydice. Pig's proverbial 'song to the devil' is a quiet and shocking emotional turn that I'll be feeling for a long time.

Nic Cage puts on a clinic; Alex Wolff is the big surprise. Portland is showcased in a way that didn't make me miss the place, exactly, but made me feel I knew it a little better—"fuck Seattle", indeed.

The John Wick comparisons are useful enough; the dressing-down Rob gives to Derek is as brutal as any gun-fu execution. But Inside Llewyn Davis is also a handy point of reference. Tell you the truth though, I liked Pig a lot more than either—probably because it understands that grief makes you more human, not less.

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