Bullying often compels righteous vengeance within storytelling, particularly when it comes to the horror genre. Just ask Stephen King. The world’s most famous horror writer frequently features bullies as antagonists in his work, the monstrous impact of their actions providing very real-life horror. In fact, the titular character in King’s Carrie is intensely analogous to the socially persecuted teenage girl at the heart of Carlota Pereda’s Piggy. But where a pig’s-blood-covered Carrie White unleashes her pent-up fury in a supernatural frenzy, Piggy’s eventually blood-covered Sara (Laura Galán) instead first gains some semblance of satisfaction through the twisted actions of an avenging protector.
The bullying that Sara endures is difficult to watch at times. A socially awkward, large-bodied teen, Sara also becomes even more of a target given that she can often be spotted behind the counter at her family’s butcher shop, making her inevitable social media mockery when photographed next to severed pig heads a bit too on-the-nose. And yet, heavy-handed as the depiction of bullying may often be, Pereda uses it in such a way that the fates that may befall Sara’s persecutors seem fitting if not exactly morally justified.
At one point, Sara is nearly drowned in the community swimming pool by a group of popular mean girls, who then steal her clothes and towel, forcing the body-conscious Sara to run home through the city streets nearly naked. And yet, what wounds Sara the most, emotionally, is former childhood friend Claudia (Irene Ferreiro) joining in on the bullying and porcine insults, betraying Sara in order to score points with the popular crowd. Her home life isn’t all that much better. When she reveals her intense bullying to her mother (Carmen Machi), the woman proceeds to put Sara on a diet rather than offer much in the way of comfort.
Lurking within the shadows surrounding already dark actions is a malevolent stranger (Richards Holmes). He’s there at the pool, and makes himself known to Sara more directly when she happens upon his van on her long walk home. With her bullies screaming for help in the back of his van, the burly figure returns Sara’s clothes and drives off. In order for vengeance to be served, Sara simply has to do nothing, and proceeds to watch her abducted aggressors speed off in the back of the van to a fate that’s likely much worse than anything she’s endured. It’s here Pereda imbues Piggy with its twisted sense of morality: the lone person who seems to truly see and value Sara might be a serial killer. Is Sara’s inaction when questioned by the authorities about the girls’ disappearance her own form of vengeance, or is it more a reaction to protect the one person who seems to value her?
Unfortunately, Piggy poses that question without answering it. There’s considerable tension produced by Sara’s reticence to come clean about what she knows, but the payoff, while gory and visceral, doesn’t match the buildup. When Sara finally does unleash her pent-up fury, it’s perhaps less satisfying and certainly less morally ambiguous than a defter film might have managed. That leaves the viewer somewhat conflicted; not the worst state to conjure within an audience, but one that becomes less impactful given that Sara lacks much character development beyond the fact she’s a big girl who hides under earphones and indulges in snack cakes when stressed. Nevertheless, despite the 36-year-old Galán being at least twice the age of her character, she portrays Sara with such commitment that the performance alone is enough to make Piggy a valuable entry into the subgenre of films about bullied protagonists who encounter even greater horror.
Photo courtesy of Magnet Releasing
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