An immigrant Jewish factory worker gets brined for 100 years, emerges perfectly preserved, and must navigate modern Brooklyn, cryptocurrency, and family legacy with his only living relative: his great-grandson.
Rogen plays both roles with genuine pathos. Herschel is not just a caveman cartoon; he is a grieving widower mourning a world that no longer exists. Ben is not just a millennial punching bag; he is a lonely artist struggling to find meaning in a world that has commodified everything, including grief (he keeps his parents' ashes in a "bespoke, biodegradable urn").
The Brine of Time: Why ‘An American Pickle’ is a Modern Fable
as Herschel Greenbaum (1920s immigrant) and Ben Greenbaum (modern-day app developer). Sarah Snook as Sarah Greenbaum. Where to Watch: Available on (now Max) and in some regions. TVGuide.com Parents' Guide & Content Rating The film is rated for some language and rude humor. Violence & Gore: An American Pickle
Why ‘An American Pickle’ Is Dumber & Deeper Than You Think
The story begins in the fictional Eastern European shtetl of Schlupsk in 1919. We meet Herschel Greenbaum (Rogen), a hardworking but hapless ditch-digger who dreams of a better life. He falls in love with a local woman, Sarah, and the two decide to immigrate to America to build a future. They arrive in Brooklyn, where Herschel finds work at a pickle factory. Following a series of unfortunate events involving a rat and his own aggressive sense of justice, Herschel falls into a vat of pickling brine just as the factory is sealed shut for health code violations.
Their feud escalates hilariously: Herschel steals Ben’s oat milk. Ben reports Herschel to the EPA for illegal brine dumping. Eventually, they end up in a viral courtroom battle where the judge asks, "Is this a property dispute or a religious schism?" An immigrant Jewish factory worker gets brined for
In the landscape of modern cinema, particularly within the realm of comedy, high-concept premises often rely on absurdity for the sake of absurdity. Yet, every once in a while, a film comes along that takes a ludicrous setup—a man falls into a vat of pickles in 1919 and wakes up perfectly preserved 100 years later—and uses it as a vessel for something deeply poignant. An American Pickle , released on HBO Max in 2020, is exactly that kind of gem. Starring Seth Rogen in a dual role that showcases his dramatic range as much as his comedic timing, the film is a tender, weird, and surprisingly profound exploration of family, legacy, and the immigrant experience.
A man falls into a vat of pickles in 1920… and wakes up in Brooklyn 2020. No, really.
The technical achievement of having the two Rogens interact is seamless. Unlike the distracting CGI of early 2000s dual-role films, the technology here is invisible, allowing the audience to focus on the characters. Rogen plays against himself with a chemistry that feels genuine; the arguments between Herschel and Ben feel like a genuine familial clash, fueled by decades of generational disconnect. Ben is not just a millennial punching bag;
The film is steeped in Yiddishkeit—the cultural and spiritual ethos of Eastern European Jewry. Herschel’s relationship with God is one of constant, furious negotiation. When he first sees a smartphone, he mistakes it for a dybbuk (a malicious spirit). When he learns his wife died decades ago, he sits Shiva (the Jewish mourning ritual) in the middle of a vegan deli, much to the horror of the patrons.
But to dismiss An American Pickle as merely a high-concept stoner comedy is to miss the point entirely. Directed by Brandon Trost and based on Simon Rich’s 2013 short story “Sell Out,” the film is a deceptively sophisticated meditation on heritage, capitalism, family, and the monumental gap between the American Dream of the past and the gig-economy reality of the present.
