When thinking of America, many have referred to it as the land of opportunity. There is some clause in the country’s mantra that says anyone can come here and experience prosperity. It’s kind of what makes cinema a rich landscape for these mythic figures who arrive on our shores and look to the sky, believing that they will leave this place better for their presence. Considering how the immigration story is evergreen, it’s likely that every generation will get their own views on different cultures arriving to leave their official stamp.
But what about those who come up short, managing to buy into the illusion of capitalism but are more slaves to the dollar? It’s a temptation that has made for an interesting parallel to The American Dream. We all try, but not everyone is destined for greatness. Over generations, offspring will be produced to hopefully give their careers deeper meaning, something sustainable to last centuries. That is, of course, if you’re not cut down in the prime of your life.
An American Pickle (2020) centers around the idea of Jewish heritage as it relates to the early 20th and 21st century. With a Rip Van Winkle narrative in tow, the audience follows Seth Rogen in dual roles. The first is Herschel Greenbaum, introduced in traditional black and white or earthy colors, narrator painting this story of a humble man escaping the drudgery of his homeland in order to start anew with his wife in America. He has a simple dream: to make pickles. As he builds his empire, he finds himself playing the role of a familiar archetype, even having a plant where he makes the pickles personally around the turn of the 20th century.
He’s a Jewish man who has all of the beliefs of hard work. He knows what value it serves not only to him as a craft, but to give his family sustainability. That is why it becomes a tragedy when he’s dumped into the bat of brine and is trapped for over a century until awoken. With more contemporary cinematography, he awakes to find his factory a rundown, abandoned mess. He is hospitalized and only then does he meet his distant relative Ben (Rogen, again). He believes that the future is in the tech world and is working on an app, in some ways hiding his own sadness that most of the Greenbaum lineage has either lost contact with him or died.
On one level the film spins The Odd Couple but makes it a look at Hasidic and non-practicing Jews, constantly battling over various parts of identity. Ben has no work ethic and is progressive, barely doing enough to get by. He seems like a bit of a dimwit, and there is great chemistry in Herschel’s disappointment in his family. What did he do to wind up with a family that so openly cared little about not only ethics but Judaism as a centuries-old identity? Even the cemetery where Herschel’s wife is buried is on the outskirts of a freeway, reflecting how ignored this aspect of their culture is in the modern age.
Herschel may go down as one of Rogen’s best performances in his career. Where the movie fails to be as entertaining as this compare and contrast, it definitely allows for a conversation that a broad comedy like this wouldn’t have. What would our ancestors who fought tooth and nail for every ounce of success think of us just sitting on our phones and producing apps whose sole function is seconds’ worth of cheer? There’s no sustainability, and that is where the film is at its best, creating this compelling view of how time (and New York) has changed.
The issues come more when the film enters its second act, which begins to take more narrative risks and basically treats Herschel like the other. He is a novelty of a Hasidic Jew whose accent is called “adorable” and has become a viral sensation as he sells homemade pickles on street corners. This aspect of the story is fine, as it could create an exploration of how hard work matters, but Ben would rather sabotage him. By giving Herschel a Twitter account, he allows the newfound mogul to be trapped by his outdated views on feminism and cultures writ large.
It’s a petty move that’s designed to set up a rivalry between the differing cultures. That is not too dissimilar from another Jewish-American experience in Uncut Gems (2019), which finds Adam Sandler giving into a 21st-century greed. There’s no surety that Herschel is working hard for capitalist leanings, but Howie (Sandler) definitely is. He’s drawn to the world of jewelry and betting big on NBA games. Everything that matters in his life is monetary, often solving problems by throwing thousand-dollar shirts at people believing that a pay-off will make them happy.
He’s also been considered more of a problematic stereotype in the Jewish community because of this. He’s the type of money-hungry figure who has been demonized and used for mockery. And yet, he feels necessary in this context. He’s not sympathized like anyone in An American Pickle. He’s just a man whose foolishness puts him that much closer to the barrel of a gun. Howie likes to think he’s a smooth talker, but in reality, his game is slipping. The world can see through his charade. He’s sucked the sap from life’s tree for so long that he has nothing of personal value to offer.
Like Ben, Howie isn’t present in the moment. He’s as addicted to digital updates on his phone, ignoring his family just to know that he’s made a little bit more money on a game. When he attends his child’s school play, he is drawn to an image of a goblin spewing money. It’s how far off course he’s gone. He thinks that economy surpasses humanity in every situation, and it makes him easy to hate. There’s no reason to like Howie. You’re siding with his wife as she insults him during a Jewish celebration. Even if he’s reading scripture, he seems distracted by outside forces.
The stakes of Uncut Gems are more designed as a ticking clock, pretty much waiting for Howie to fall into a trap. It’s been known to give viewers anxiety, and Sandler gives one of his best performances by staring trouble down with his self-delusion. Nowhere does he redeem himself. Every chance he gets, he just decides to bet on something.
In a pivotal scene, he is opposite Kevin Garnett the day before a big basketball game. Howie has acquired a “lucky stone” that he knowingly paid less than its worth for because his view of the world, and ancient civilizations, is that they’re sitting on these gems so what value is it to them? He doesn’t take into account anyone’s feelings, nor the hard work or exploitation that went into it. The gem is all that matters to him, and as Garnett realizes how deluded Howie is, he says a line that has become a popular gif online. When challenged about his personal value, he ignores the conversation in favor of betting on a game. As Howie would say “This is how I win.” He has no skill to offer, just his supposed ability to outrun danger for another day.
True, An American Pickle is a much more compassionate look at the modern Jewish experience. There is no moment where you don’t feel some sympathy for Ben or Herschel. Everything is a light comedy meant to engage in ideas. Uncut Gems finds Judaism when it begins to feel removed from the very foundation, where greed becomes its own religious experience. An American Pickle meanwhile is an attempt to realign yourself with faith, by recognizing that the digital distractions aren’t inherently evil, but they do create a moral grey area that stops any genuine progress.
Ben isn’t interested in Herschel getting a Twitter account because it will help him prosper. Instead, it is designed to make him fail with his own words. There is no desire to protect him from harm because, well, he’s doing much better than Ben. People love him, and that is the struggle. Ben is jealous, especially with Herschel critical of how codependent Ben has become on technology and others. He should be keeping the pickle business afloat. Instead, he’s talking about how an Alexa turned on his house lights.
The story gets madcap from there, as Herschel gets “canceled” in the modern sense, with many hating his rhetoric. It leads to a trial that is as ridiculous as it is unnecessary. There’s mistaken identity and man on the run plots, all used in ways that are entertaining but reflect a flimsiness of plot. These are moments that convey the themes broadly, but never allow the heart of the characters to beat. There’s little development in the second act that feels worthwhile. It’s mostly a petty squabble that separates the duo, symbolically like faith and apathy. To be fair, it’s a lot more pleasant than the squabbles of Uncut Gems, which finds Howie often bleeding or naked in the trunk of a car.
Maybe the reason that Uncut Gems feels more successful in the long run is because of its structure. As critic Matt Singer suggested, it’s designed like a basketball game in such a way that you can feel every play once you know to look for it. The Jewish dinner is like a halftime period of relaxation while the fourth quarter is where things get intense and desperation overpowers rationality. An American Pickle, on the other hand, has so little significant plot after the fun opening that even its 90-minute running time feels padded.
With that said, the compassion of the film makes for a satisfying conclusion. Ben and Herschel learn to forgive, recognizing the value in each other. As symbolic characters, it’s the only reasonable way for the story to end. It’s amusing to hear Herschel talk about technology after seeing him spend the film in his stubborn, rudimentary ways. They learn to work together, accepting that both voices need to be heard if they ever seek to keep a family business alive.
Meanwhile, Howie doesn’t have anything worth preserving. He thinks that he does, but it’s all tangible stuff that can be robbed and destroyed. The value is something that has to be applied by the owner and based on how much he tries to cover the issue with money, it doesn’t work. He’s incapable of love. He only thinks he can. He’s more likely to make a diamond-studded Furby (itself a juxtaposition of someone else’s creation) that entertains a floor sale than spend time giving worth to his family, themselves feeling secondary to his younger, much more attractive girlfriend.
Together these films present a side of the immigration experience that is full of personal grappling with the past. In Uncut Gems, it’s more of a symbolic view as faith invisibly stares at him in concern that he’s lost his way. He misunderstood The American Dream so badly that nobody around him is safe. With An American Pickle, it’s more classical (and not only in style) and shows how cultural evolution can be seen in good and bad ways, and how it can come to be fused together as something meaningful.
In a time where American Judaism is given a deeper exploration, it feels interesting to see these three characters as an extension of archetypes. All three reflect different sides of the same religion, all trying to find some meaning and success in The American Dream. Were they successful? In every case, it came with plenty of tussling of feathers. However, these are also cautionary tales about how greed can distract, make you lose your humanity. At the end of the day, you’d rather be a humble pickle maker than a neurotic jewelry dealer. Howie is alone despite having a family while Ben learns not to be alone because of his family. It’s the simple crux that makes these two narratives more similar than one would think. They’re entertaining in their own rights, and it’s in large part because of the subtext and great performances that drive the characters through their personal journeys.
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