CHRONICLE – Nicolas Cage is unrecognizable in the touching role of a voluntary hermit on the trail of his painful past.
Nicolas Cage has changed a lot. In Pig his name is Robin Feld and does not wear handsome. Gray and fat hair, mutic, a thick beard, he lives as a hermit in a cabin nestled in the hollow of an Oregon forest. We can guess that he does not smell very good, which should not bother the sow with whom he shares his life too much (calm down, Sandrine Rousseau: we are talking about the animal.). But beware, this is not just any suine: a truffle sow. Thanks to her, every Thursday that God makes, a young man comes in his beautiful yellow car to exchange a few green tickets for a black truffle that the slut has unearthed at the foot of a tree. Until the day when a terrible drama arises in the life of our secular anchorite: his sow is stolen from him at night.
And here is Robin Hood on his way to town. Even if it is Portland, haunt of the most disheveled representatives of the post-punk progressive American far left, its look is out of place.
As is the sentence he launches to all those he