“That’ll do, pig.”
Three simple words, and, if you’re not just a tad verklempt, you’re a harder man than me.
Some movies reach an unexpected level of perfection, achieving what they have set out to do with an uncanny precision.
This film, which should have beat Braveheart to win Best Picture at the Oscars (I’ll die on that hill), is one of those high-water marks.
It has a heart as big as all outdoors, and the relationship at the core, between a crusty old farmer (James Cromwell) and one plucky lil’ porker, is never forced, and allowed to develop gracefully.