From Pineapple Express to Steve Jobs, there has always been something uniquely compelling about Seth Rogen. The man who practically invented the “schlubby stoner” comedic archetype that has ruled the genre for almost the entirety of the 2000s, imitated but never done to the level at which Rogen has been able to. There’s a unique sort of pathos that lies at the heart of his lovably dorky characters that keeps Rogen from ever veering too far into cringe (see Adam Sandler) or too far into sentimentally (also see Adam Sandler). His characters are the best and worst of us rolled into one ingenious, seemingly endlessly funny package. What we haven’t seen as much of, however, is who Seth Rogen is and what he can be beyond that. We know the Seth Rogen type, but not until An American Pickle have we been able to see a more complex picture of America’s comedy treasure.
Helmed by frequent Seth Rogen cinematographer, now director, Brandon Trost, An American Pickle follows an immigrant pickle factory worker, played by Rogen, who falls into a vat of brine and is preserved for 100 years. He wakes up in modern day America, where, with the help of his great grandson (also played by Rogen) he hopes to make a name for himself and his family. It is a truly ingenious setup that on a baseline would make anyone’s wheels turn trying to figure out the kind of hilarity that is likely to follow. What is most immediately surprising about the film, however, is that it has little to no interest in the inherent silliness of its own plot. Instead, Trost crafts a film that feels less like a blockbuster comedy and more like a lowkey dramedy about Jewish identity, the absurdity of modern America, and slowing down to reflect on one’s roots in a world where we’re expected to ceaselessly speed up.
One of the most immediately impressive things about An American Pickle is its astonishingly dynamic cinematography, laced with some eye-popping ratio shifts tailor made to make Film Twitter geek out, which is paired with a beautiful, classic score. The film carries itself with this sort of whimsical energy that feels like it was plucked right out of a Pixar film, which is why this writer was amused to find out that the film’s score features music by legendary composer and Pixar favorite Michael Giacchino. Similarly, much of today’s comedy, and frankly comedies in general, focus on a sort of rapid pacing and quick cutting in order to increase the amount of jokes-per-second, which is fun sometimes, but when done poorly is just headache inducing. What’s so refreshing is that Pickle simply lets jokes play out and shots are given time to brief, equipping Rogen with the ability to really feel his feelings in front of the camera and remind us how great of an actor he can be when given the chance to.
This is not to say the film is perfect. It suffers from pacing issues (feeling a bit longer than its surprisingly lean running time) and tonally it is all over the place. But what keeps the film centered throughout is its commitment to its own themes and a sense of honesty and emotional intelligence that lends meaning even to weaker jokes or less interesting scenes. Films are the feelings they evoke and while watching An American Pickle I could feel the love and reverence Seth Rogen and co. have for their culture, identity, and how it feels to make something of yourself for your family and… just yourself.
What contributes most to this feeling of personal reflection and introspection is two spectacularly nuanced performances from Seth Rogen, one of which could easily slide into pure absurdity but not even once loses sight of the very real feelings and motivations behind the character. We see what makes Pickle Rogen (I know, stay with me here) and the time he comes from so silly, but we also see why Modern Rogen and the rest of our 2020 world seem ridiculous as well. It’s the idea that time will never quite be on our side and that as hellish and unpredictable as the world can be (and as we ourselves can sometimes make it), it’s the search for ourselves and the answers the past can sometimes yield, that give life meaning.
An American Pickle takes one of our great comedic actors and dials him down in order to bring out something quietly compelling and uniquely authentic.
I’d say that’s something we can all relish.
An American Pickle is now streaming on HBO Max.
