An American Pickle (2020) (Review)

The release of An American Pickle represents the beginning of a staggered release format in which new films will be released differently depending on which part of the world you are in, and at what stage of the pandemic your country is at: audiences in the UK and Europe, for example where a phased reopening is underway, will be able to see this Seth Rogen-starring comedy in cinemas, while stateside - where most cinemas remained shuttered - the film has debuted on HBO Max, the new streaming service from Warner Bros. 

A struggling Jewish labourer from 1920 suffers an accident in his factory job and falls into a vat of pickles and is brined for 100 years. Awakening in 2020 perfectly preserved, Herschel Greenbaum (Rogen) must adapt to modern-day Brooklyn, with his only surviving relative, great-grandson Ben Greenbaum (also Rogen), having to show him the ropes. An American Pickle marks frequent Rogen collaborator Brandon Trost's first solo directorial outing.

A wacky concept certainly, An American Pickle is quirky enough to endear audiences during the opening act and just about manages to sustain their interest over 89 minutes. The Simon Rich-penned screenplay is operating most effectively as an (admittedly light-hearted) examination of culture and religion, exploring their role in 21st-century society with surprising thoughtfulness at times. Otherwise, and after the first half an hour or so, it cannot help but feel a little sporadic and very uneven - as if a number of different ideas unsubstantial enough to be the central idea have been thrown into a melting pot and left to simmer, never satisfying as a fully-formed idea or two carefully-developed would.

Brandon Trost's direction is rather solid. Bringing a similar atmosphere to the one he captured as the cinematographer in Marielle Heller's Can You Ever Forgive Me?, Trost creates a forlorn, longingness around Herschel, which provides the character with the depth that allows the themes of religion and culture to be explored with greater meaning. Where Trost struggles most though is, ironically, in the direction he takes, or more importantly, doesn't take An American Pickle in: when the credits roll, the whole film seems inconsequential. There's no real takeaway beyond the act one musings and becomes increasingly confused as to what it wants to say.

This does feel like a step-up for Rogen, continuing on from his impressive performance in Long Shot last year. Relying less on the crude behaviour that tended to inform his more popular early work, it's a more dramatic turn that begins to show his potential as an actor; leaning more towards serious roles would be a welcomed change of pace and indicates that the best may still be to come.

More so than any other film released in the past six months, digital feels like the best home for a film like An American Pickle: it's hard to imagine anyone excited for a cinema trip to see it, instead, more like something discovered on late-night television (or, in this case, deep in an online library) and embraced for all its quirkiness years down the line. While the overall quality isn't high enough to transform this into a cult classic, An American Pickle is an enjoyable enough distraction for our times.

Summary: A passably entertaining if incredibly uneven film, An American Pickle is one of the more unusual films of the year but does give Seth Rogen the opportunity to show off a more dramatic side.