Press "Enter" to skip to content

The Whale is not a masterpiece – it’s a joyless, harmful fantasy of fat squalor

The Oscar nomination for The Whale must mean it’s great, right? Wrong! It is a shallow and stigmatising reflection of thin people’s assumptions about fat bodies I hadn’t planned on engaging with The Whale. In fact, one of my fat friends and I joked extensively about how much we were not, under any circumstances, going to shine our light on The Whale, no disrespect to the fat writers who chose to do so. Why would we? There is nothing new in it, as much as its director, Darren Aronofsky, believes he has made a novel masterpiece of fat humanity. Every bit of The Whale is old. However, I changed my mind about watching The Whale when another friend (a thin one, so you can take him seriously!) texted me, fresh out of a pre-release screening, that it was one of the worst, stupidest movies he’d seen in years. Well, now I was intrigued! The hype around The Whale – in particular Brendan Fraser’s Oscar-nominated performance – had been so self-serious, so high-minded, I’d assumed it was a well-made art film whose creators just happened to have chosen a subject matter they likely weren’t equipped to handle. But to find out it was simply bad? The thought of gilded Academy voters weeping over a video of Fraser in a fat suit choking on a meatball sub gave me a strange pleasure. The joke, suddenly, was on them. Delicious as a Cheeto sandwich sprayed with ranch dressing, a meal that The Whale’s protagonist eats while crying. Standing ovation! LOL. You idiots. Continue reading...

Be First to Comment

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: