Film Review: The Whale
Spectacle, yes — but redemptive
You’ve seen the posters and heard the hype. This is a controversial film, which divides viewers into two distinct camps: an unnecessary fat-shaming spectacle on one side verses a tender exploration of empathy and the capacity of love and redemption, in the other. If you’re willing to try, to see Charlie — and not just his bloated, fleshy form, then you might enjoy The Whale (Aronofsky 2022) as much as I did.
Like Leaving Las Vegas (Figgis 1995), The Whale showcases a character’s tragic downward spiral which is very difficult to watch; the addiction is food this time, not alcohol. Morbidly obese and facing imminent death, Charlie, though smart and kind — is also an aberration. A sad, pathetic side show. Imprisoned by rolls and rolls of fat, the physical manifestation of his crushing guilt, Charlie is a recluse, singularly focussed on one outcome. Remind you of another whale story? But unlike Ahab, Charlie is subtly nuanced, as layered as his folds of fleshy fat. His handicap is too much physical form, not too little. The intertwining influence of Moby Dick throughout this film is delightful.
And then, there is Brendan Fraser. Brendan Frasier is a marvel. A performance worth every wince and uncomfortable, cringey seat-squirm. At once portraying a character so complex, he is vulnerable to his own self-loathing, and at that same time, steely in his resolve. Grotesque and radiant, Fraser’s Charlie is both beauty and beast.
Limited in the way most stage to film adaptations are — claustrophobic, small, and a bit… suffocating, the characters caught like a bugs under a magnifying glass. The viewer’s attention is therefore laser focussed on the dialogue without the added cinematic benefit of set changes or long views to convey mood or emotion. Imagine Dr. Zhivago (Lean 1965) set in a single room. But the scenery in The Whale is another character, just not the sweeping desert landscapes of Lawrence of Arabia (Lean 1962) or the boundless, grittiness of No Country for Old Men (Joel & Ethan Coen 2007). No. The shuttered, cramped apartment inhabited by Charlie, the titular whale, is his tomb; a dark crypt in which he plays out his slow and calculating suicide. Instead of clods of dirt, this character is buried in food, shovel after shovel full.
With its lovely, lilting, ambiguous conclusion, Aronofsky again let’s the viewer decide — is this a happy ending or a tragic end to a tragic character? See The Whale and decide for yourself.
