Director: Darren Aronofsky
Starring: Brendan Fraser, Sadie Sink, Hong Chau, Ty Simpkins, Samantha Morton, Sathya Sridharan
Running Time: 117 min.
Rating: R
★★★★ (out of ★★★★)
Considering the story for Darren Aronofsky's The Whale originated on stage, it sure has a lot happening, to the point there's barely enough time to come up for air in amidst the unfolding tension. Yes, this adaptation of Samuel Hunter's 2012 play primarily takes place within the confines of a morbidly obese man's home, but this isn't "stagey" or "static," nor is it about ogling at his health rapidly deteriorating health.While the main character has become a sideshow spectacle to the few who encounter him, he knows it, having long ago began a gradual suicide that feels too late to turn back from. There's only one thing left to make right and he's determined to, because no matter what what anyone thinks of him now, it pales in comparison to how harshly he's judged himself.
It's rare to watch a film you know has to run two hours, yet still fear the protagonist might die at any moment. And that it could happen doing everyday things, like getting up from the couch, going to the bathroom, eating a sandwich, picking something up off the floor, or even just sleeping. Of course, this could happen to anyone at anytime, but Aronofsky immerses us in the protagonist's elevated risk. We know he doesn't have a lot of time left, not only because we're told, but just by looking at him. You also can't help but wonder what outspoken opponents of Brendan Fraser's "fat suit" would consider a suitable alternative since you can't make him gain an unhealthy amount of weight or cast an over 600 pound actor. If they feel the film shouldn't be made then that's a shame since his performance goes far beyond makeup and prosthetics. This is the character's reality, with Fraser going to extraordinary but justifiable lengths to show us why.
Charlie (Fraser) is a chronically overweight, reclusive English professor teaching online writing courses with his web cam shut off to hide his appearance. The only direct contact he has with the outside world is through his friend and visiting nurse Liz (Hong Chau), the pizza delivery driver who can't see him, and more recently, a New Life Church missionary named Thomas (Ty Simpkins). Despite Liz urging the uninsured, in debt Charlie to agree to go to the hospital for impending heart failure, he stays inside, instead making a last ditch effort to reconnect with his angry, estranged teenage daughter Ellie (Sadie Sink). Since abandoning her and his ex-wife Mary (Samantha Morton) eight years ago to run off with his now deceased former student and male lover, he's embarked on a downward spiral of binge eating. Pulling out all the stops to reconcile with an unreceptive Ellie could be his last chance at any kind of redemption, but he's quickly running out of time.
It's startling how much goes on in this single claustrophobic location, with unbearable suspense coming from everyday situations that would seem mundane under normal circumstances. Still, this opens with what seems to be an unusual amount of visitors for Charlie, whose condition is worsening with each passing minute. Immobile, sweaty, suffering from astronomically high blood pressure and stuffing his face with any available junk food, caretaker Liz hasn't exactly given up, but realizes he's reached the end and works to make it as comfortable as possible. There for him in every way as he continuously apologizes, she knows there's nothing more that can be done. But there are a couple of surprises right away, especially for those misled by vague trailers and commercials implying that we'd just be watching someone eat themselves to death on their own sofa. And even if you acknowledge that's partially true, Aronofsky still manages to get a shocking amount of mileage out of it.
The first person who sees Charlie isn't Liz, but a complete stranger in Thomas, a Christian missionary distributing pamphlets who walks in on him in the throes of a somewhat embarrassing medical emergency. We soon sadly realize Charlie is well past the humiliation stage and this kid might be more traumatized than he is. Immediately distrusting of Thomas and thinking religion is the last thing her patient needs now, Liz's vitriol toward the visitor is more complex than it initially appears. So too are his motivations, which seem to extend far past converting Charlie or trying to have him saved. That he keeps returning to help is proof enough of that, even as Charlie's focus remains entirely on Ellie. It's her, his writing class, and an essay on Moby-Dick he's particularly obsessed with that keep him going, at least through this week.
Ellie couldn't possibly be any more hostile toward her dad and it's easy to grasp why given the circumstances, which Charlie takes full responsibility for. One of the most powerful moments comes when Ellie tells him that he finds him more disgusting on the inside than outside, which reflects an honesty he seems to appreciate. He's big on honesty, more than willing to be treated like garbage if it means Ellie can tell the truth and get everything out of her system, no matter how cruel. Charlie also realizes he deserves it and would gladly take a bullet if it meant making even a little headway in repairing their rift.
While everything traces back to Charlie's betrayal, Ellie's mom isn't exactly blameless for what happens after, as we start to realize the biggest mistake both made was getting married to begin with. That a full portrait is painted of this fractured family without the benefit of flashbacks is a credit to the depth of Hunter's script, which is agonizingly and uncomfortably brought to life by Fraser and the supporting cast.
Charlie's physical state instantly establishes him as the most sympathetic character, but it's Fraser who makes this individual likeable despite his serious flaws. The shame and regret just pours out of him, as if he woke up that morning, looked in the mirror and suddenly saw someone no longer recognizable at all, but not only because of the weight. His partner died, his daughter hates him and now this. And from what we know about Fraser's extended acting absence, you'd figure the actor had a lot to draw from that may not have existed had he continued along the movie star course he was on fifteen to twenty years ago. Even at his peak, few would have guessed he had something like this in him, as he shines a light on the character's almost improbable, unshakeable optimism in the face of inevitable tragedy.
As his nurse and confidant, Hong Chau's Liz administers what first seems like "tough love," until her personal connection to Charlie reveals itself. As dark as the material is, the levity and humor springing from their interactions suggest a shorthand rooted in deeper friendship. And those only familiar with Sadie Sink as the resilient Max on Stranger Things will likely be blown away by how well she epitomizes pure teen rage as Ellie, whose own mom even thinks she's evil.
Having to remain completely detestable throughout, Sink sprinkles a sliver of doubt that Ellie's capable of letting him back in, if only maybe a little. Charlie isn't wrong that she at least cares enough to drop by, even if it's to emotionally bludgeon and bully him, which he takes. And much like Thomas, she just can't bring herself to actually leave. Played by Simpkins, the young missionary might be the most frustratingly complicated character, and after spending most of the film trying to read him, once he's revealed in full, it strangely makes complete sense, while deflating us just the same.
Charlie's life threatening condition is
a psychological one, buried under a crippling food dependency that just as easily could have revolved around drugs, alcohol or even gambling. To say the film targets the overweight ignores how others can feel equally isolated due to any number of reasons or traumatic events. And like many of them, he's already given up, turning his attention to
salvaging the only relationship that still matters. While The Whale frequently shows humanity at its worst, with awful people treating each
other terribly, its main character refuses to buy that narrative. You can call it misguided or naive, but his belief that everyone still wants to do good might be all he has left.
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