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The American Dream, Jewish Heritage, and Pickles: An Indictment


There seems to be an unwritten rule of comedy that requires a comedian of a certain clout to eventually play a dual role for a movie, regardless of whether it is a good idea or not. Often it is not.  Look no further than to Mike Myers, Tyler Perry, and the many many dual performances of Eddie Murphy. It took nearly a decade for Adam Sandler to bounce back from the travesty that was Jack & Jill, and An American Pickle (though not nearly as outdated a joke) had every chance of failing in the same ways. Seth Rogen though, is perhaps savvier than those prior examples in how he chooses to proceed with the gimmick; teaming up with New Yorker writer and Man Seeking Woman creator Simon Rich to adapt his novella Sell Out (originally published in the New Yorker in fact) into this uniquely absurd movie about a Jewish immigrant who fled his former Russian state from the Cossacks and was frozen in a vat of pickle brine for a century going to war with his great-grandson over business ventures and family honour.
If nothing else, HBO Max's first original movie, which is also the directing debut of cinematographer Brandon Trost (who has shot a lot of previous Rogen vehicles), at least has it where it counts as far as outlandish premises go. Side-stepping all the various fish out of water beats and anachronisms, the idea of a man from the time of polio competing with a modern web developer in the open market by selling jarred pickles is pretty funny on its own merits. But the film is keenly interested in expanding the scope of that humour into a satire on the state of the modern American experiment itself. For every acknowledged gift of contemporary society, there is an asterix, an indisputable reminder things haven’t advanced all that much where it matters. In particular the film seems to go after the American Dream myth by illustrating the bizarre ways that the U.S. system for finding success functions. While Ben struggles in vain to sell an ethical consumption app called Boop Bop, Herschel’s business swiftly takes off as a novelty, his personality becoming something of a commodity, which allows him to bounce back from just about every sabotage Ben tries to exact.
But at the same time, Herschel’s ignorance heavily facilitates this, often moved or manipulated towards a sustained public consciousness so that he is never entirely in control of his own fate -like if Forrest Gump were self aware. One portion of the movie, where he is briefly exploited by the alt-right as a “free speech” advocate after a series of bigoted tweets, reminded me a lot of Network and its’ blistering impression of a callous mass media shepherding a vulnerable mans’ irate proselytizing -especially in how immediately he is disowned by his own enablers once an aspect of his politics ever so slightly contradicts theirs.
The commentary is not all cynical though. There is an air of lament in the contrast of the values and perspectives between Herschel and Ben that speaks to shifting cultural attitudes and priorities in an industrial, globalized world. Herschel had high expectations for the success of his family, bought into American idealism, remained conscious of his roots and devoted to his faith; while Ben has no family and few prospects, is rightfully disillusioned by any vestige of American idealism, has little interest in his heritage and has left Judaism. Family and heritage especially is the principal source of conflict between them, and to some degree the movie appears to side with Herschel on the grander scale. What better metaphor is there for America’s neglect of its immigrant past than the Jewish cemetery in sight of the Brooklyn bridge being in disrepair, unkempt and forgotten, and with a billboard for vodka overlooking it?
This in tandem with Ben’s disregard and blatant disrespect of Herschel’s deeply held beliefs and values speaks to a lost sense of cultural identity and heritage depreciation within the American melting pot. Specifically, Rogen and Rich and Trost seem to be speaking to a distinct sect of Jewish Americans. And it’s here where the film turns sincere and loses momentum in its themes. Because a core assumption behind that driving notion is that Americans aren’t in touch with their traditions, their faiths, and their immigrant roots. Which is certainly not the case, especially in immigrant communities of colour. And as such while the chief lesson is a somewhat noble one, it does come across as slightly ignorant and dishonest, and only applicable to white people of a specific ancestry and persuasion.
Still, Rogen plays it quite well, especially considering how difficult the drama is to relate through his exaggerated accent and caricatured personality as Herschel. But he’s primarily in this to have some fun. The filmmakers delight in the character of his homeland of Schlopsk, a pale and dreary variation on the shtetls of Fiddler on the Roof and Yentl, and take equal glee in how a transplanted Tevye-type would respond to the twenty-first century. As Ben on the other hand, a character already not so easy to like, Rogen is comparatively flat. He gets some great witty remarks from time to time and a earns a certain modicum of your sympathy, but you can tell the comedian is putting the brunt of his efforts elsewhere -as is often the case for the straight half as such dual roles.
An American Pickle on the whole though is funny enough to compensate for that. For as lacking and narrow as its central tenet is, its' satirical sensibilities and ridiculousness keeps it entertaining.  Certainly it's better than many a dual performance comedy to come before it, and sharper within that conceit than many that may come after as well.

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