Darren Aronofsky (Pi, Requiem for a Dream, The Wrestler, Black Swan, Mother!) directs playwright Samuel D. Hunter's screenplay about morbidly obese Charlie (Brendan Fraser), a reclusive online college English teacher who desperately longs to reconnect with his estranged teenage daughter, Ellie (Sadie Sink). (117 min.)
Glen Charlie has deep regrets, most especially for abandoning his then-8-year-old daughter when he left his wife for another man. When the story begins, it's nearly nine years on, and Charlie, "who's always been big," is now gigantic, with legs like tree trunks, an abdominal apron that extends to his knees, and hulking back fat blossoming like sweaty mushrooms around his neck. Every movement is exhausting to witness, and watching him strain to get upright with his walker so he can lumber to the bathroom to relieve himself is painful—almost as painful as watching him stuff greasy fried chicken, pizza, or meatball subs into his mouth. Charlie knows his behavior is killing him. His nurse and only friend, Liz (Hong Chau), makes it abundantly clear. Charlie is committing slow suicide, wallowing in misery, but he's certain he doesn't deserve better. As the story unfolds, we learn what's driven him to his impending end. This is a tale about someone who's ready to die but who also wants to get one thing right before he goes—to make sure his daughter will be OK. It's sad and hard to watch, and I wish I could tell you there's a reassuring emotional pay off, but frankly, if there is, I missed it.
Anna Most of this film is deeply uncomfortable, and while it seems fairly obvious from the subject matter, I would caution those with disordered eating to ensure a good head space when entering this film. It not only deals with Charlie's slow climb to death through congestive heart failure that stems from his obesity, but also his former partner, Allen, who lost his life after a period of deep depression—one symptom of that being self-imposed starvation. This is a sad film, and while I can't say that I actually enjoyed it, I can say that Frasier deserved every accolade he has received for this role—he's phenomenal. He isn't alone in that category either. Chau as Liz is amazing as well, as is Samantha Morton in her brief but powerful role as Charlie's ex-wife, Mary. Set solely in Charlie's darkened apartment, this film feels insular in many ways, much like Charlie's life in a self-imposed prison. The ways we punish ourselves in deep moments of loss and grief are evident here, and Charlie just can't seem to forgive himself for any of his past decisions. He can't quite see the reality in front of him either. It's all just melancholy and bleak.
Glen Yet, Charlie has an optimism inside him. At one point he says, "Do you ever get the feeling that people are incapable of not caring?" He needs to know his daughter is going to be happy, or happier than him at least. He also cares about teaching and wishes his students would write with honesty. This is a very good film, but ultimately, I find it's deeply flawed. Will Ellie be OK? Will his ex-wife find solace? Will Liz find peace? There's a whole side story about a religious cult and how religion can wound and destroy. For so simple a story, it covered a lot. I found it an emotive viewing experience, but not a redemptive one. Don't expect a happy ending.
Anna It's a pretty intricate character study of someone who hates himself even more than his teenage daughter does, or more than his ex-wife, or more than Liz, who spends her time off of work caring for him. I think this film was a great opportunity for Frazier to showcase the nuance of his talent, but it certainly isn't easy to watch Charlie struggle. I have a feeling I'll be ruminating on this film over the next few days. ∆
Senior Staff Writer Glen Starkey and freelancer Anna Starkey write Split Screen. Glen compiles listings. Comment at gstarkey@newtimesslo.com.