What does it mean to be human? That's a loaded question for which there are numerous answers. For myself, the answer has always been the ability to show empathy, love and compassion for one another. But sometimes we are also guilty of neglecting our own well-being in pursuit of putting others before ourselves. Being human means we will make many mistakes along the way. Hopefully we will also learn from those mistakes. But what does it mean to be human when you're trapped in a 600 pound shell?
Recently, I had a chance to check out an early screening of The Whale. The new film by Darren Aronofsky, starring Brendan Fraser. As someone who has battled with weight issues and morbid obesity for practically his entire life, I was very intrigued by this film. I also happen to be a fan of both Aronofsky and Brendan Fraser.
There has been much talk about this film regarding the comeback performance of Fraser and all I can say is believe the hype. Brendan Fraser delivers an outstanding performance in this film. That goes without saying.
His depiction of the near 600 pound recluse Charlie is both a triumph of physical and emotional being. You feel the weight and burden both physically and mentally as Fraser disappears into the character. But more than that, his kindness and ability to find the good in others radiates the most.
I’m not going to lie. The film doesn’t pull punches in reminding us of Charlie’s hazardous physical being. His wheezing for air as his lungs collapse under his mass weight is audible throughout. You can feel the physical pain of his joints underneath. Those around him who do care for him don’t pull punches in their comments. Their words, at times, can be scathing but do not always come from a place of hate, but rather a place of distress.
It is a film that doesn’t pull punches as to just how life-threatening his condition is. Charlie is at the point of no return. He’s on his deathbed and those around him are left to watch as he deteriorates.
At first, this was admittedly frustrating for me. Seeing where I am now as I fight to change my life, I felt a strong desire to slap, hug and plead for this character to get help. But as I continued with the film, I started to put myself back into the mindset that I was under a year ago in order to better empathize with him.
At my heaviest, I weighed 225kg. Last year, I developed an ulcer on my leg due to both my weight and reduced circulation thanks to untreated swelling from a lower back operation. I had to undergo home nursing for about 6 months as they attended to my leg twice a week, applying compression therapy in order to heal the wound.
At the height of my depression, I was reduced to a mere shell of my former self. I had no will to fight. I was overeating like crazy. I was ordering from McDonalds almost every day through Uber Eats. I was eating up to 20 McNuggets per day. I was drinking close to 5 cans of Coke a day. My health was deteriorating like crazy. The most I would move in a day was from my bedroom to my PC, where I would sit for hours on end as the weight grew and grew. For all intents and purposes, I was ready to die last year.
My nurses would get frustrated with me to no end. They would try to motivate me to make a change. They would try to get me to walk down to the end of the street and back. Some days I would try. On those days, I was huffing and puffing half way down the street as my leg muscles were in pain from the lack of use. Most days I was kind to the nurses. They would tell me that I was a kind and sweet person in return.
But anytime the conversations got real, I would ultimately shut down and put up the wall as my own self-loathing came to the forefront. Anytime they tried to motivate me, I would enter full defeatist mode. They would try to encourage me to go out and walk. And I would fight them at every turn, telling them “it was all pointless.” I had no hope in my life and was truly ready for it to end, thinking that I had become a worthless burden to society. All of this eventually led to me attempting to take my own life.
Last year was the lowest point of my life. It got to where I was reaching the point of no return. I didn’t quite reach the level that Charlie did. I never quite reached the 500 pound mark, let alone over 600 pounds, but I dare say I was on my way to that point.
Today, I am not the same person I was a year ago. I've been making steady changes in my life for the better and I have lost some weight in the process. I have been fighting to make a change in my life. As I was watching the film, it slowly dawned on me that my frustration with this character was really the mirror reflecting right back at me showing me who I once was.
Charlie is a man of great compassion. He is entirely selfless to a fault. He will put everyone before his own well-being. Here is a broken man who is suffering from chronic depression as he never dealt with the untimely death of his lover. Instead of facing his demons, he became addicted to binge eating in order to ease the pain. He is always apologizing for being a burden. He has a tendency to call himself “awful.”
He hides his existence from the world in his one bedroom apartment. His one friend - a home attending nurse - loves him to death but is left frustrated by his inability to fight the demons in his own head. Meanwhile, his teenage daughter is entirely spiteful towards him. She runs a hate blog dedicated to mocking her own mother amongst others in her life.
But she is not entirely without a reason for doing so, as she is the product of a broken home. Her father does indeed love her, but the family unit she once knew as a child was torn apart after Charlie came out of the closet and left his former home. She’s just as lonely and broken as he is and hatred is simply her outlet. And yet, despite her mean-spirited nature, Charlie still sees the good in her even when most others cannot. Charlie is a man who can see the good and beauty in others even if they can’t see it in themselves. But unfortunately, he will not allow himself that same sense of compassion and forgiveness.
The film is simply a tale of a man attempting to find some measure of redemption. In some ways, Charlie’s weight is actually the least important thing to Charlie himself. Even if that lack of concern is hazardous to the character's health, it goes to show that what is truly eating at him is his despair. Much like every film that Aronofsky has made, the film is just as concerned with Charlie’s mental well being as it is his physical being.
The two factors are entirely linked and, as I have discovered in my own journey thus far, if the two aren’t in balance, then it’s a recipe for disaster. You simply can’t have a healthy body without a healthy presence of mind. The film doesn’t shy away from outwardly expressing this.
Addiction is a common theme in all of Aronofsky’s work and here is no different. His films have always dared to delve deeply into the human psyche. He is fearless in his willingness to explore the hearts and minds of the traumatized. In doing so, he is asking the audience to look more deeply into themselves to find the meaning.
Because of this, there has been some discourse online as to whether the film is “toxic” or “fat-phobic.” I personally don’t see it that way. I think such claims made by the fat acceptance movement are just absurd and are way too focused on the exterior without giving the film an inch of critical thought. One of the reviews I read stood out to me and I quote: “It reinforces the notion that fat people have brought their own suffering upon themselves through lack of coping skills.” Actually, this quote annoyed me to no end.
While I don’t speak for every overweight person out there, I will say that my weight issues have always stemmed from childhood trauma which resulted in an inability to cope with my own lack of self-worth. Ever since I was a kid, I have never had much in the way of self-worth and have always thought of myself as being a worthless burden that had nothing to offer. It was a cold, harsh truth I had to face in my own time. As too have many others who have shared a similar journey.
Again, I can only speak for myself, but to deny my personal experiences isn’t a means of coming to my aid and protecting me. Rather, it’s an ugly form of patronizing. That to me is more “fat-phobic” than anything I saw in this film as it denies anything I may have to say on the matter at hand. Let me speak for myself instead of trying to protect my feelings or explain away my situation in life. If anything, the film is far more compassionate to those facing such hardships than it is phobic.
The link between mental and physical health has indeed been proven time and time again and it shouldn’t be denied or ignored just because it potentially hurts feelings. If anything, that’s all the more of a reason to talk openly about these issues in order to remove the stigma around mental health.
In a way, I see this film as a companion piece to The Wrestler. Another film by Aronofsky that also explores a fractured father-daughter relationship driven to collapse due to the father not being able to find balance in his own life. The common thread between both films is the need for balance and how balance is key in life. As someone important to me said recently: "The gut is like the second brain. Take care of it just as much as you would the brain."
As the final credits rolled and the tears stained my eyes, I further reflected on both the film and my own journey so far and as to why this film felt like a reflection.
I was once in that same position as Charlie. I was able to see the beauty in others but could not see that same beauty in myself due to my self-loathing. I was unable to give myself a break when I failed. I was unable to show myself compassion when others could. I was selfless to a fault as I would put others before my own well being. Much like Charlie, I too was hanging onto the demons of my past and letting that heartache define me.Charlie isn’t just dying of deteriorating physical health, he is dying due to his inability to deal with his own emotional heartache.
But in the end, he does attempt to reconcile with his daughter. He does attempt to make something of a small change. Further reminding us that it’s never too late to make a change. It’s never too late to reach out. It’s never too late to find a sense of self-compassion. And that takes real strength of character to do.
Even when you are at the end of your rope physically, you can still attempt to make a change and find some measure of inner peace. Unlike Aronofsky’s other films, this isn’t just a film about watching a character's unhealthy obsessions lead to self-destruction; rather it’s a film about someone trying to find a measure of inner peace and reconciliation.
If you can look past the 600 pound exterior and gaze into Fraser’s eyes, you will find a fragile, frail and lonely human being yearning for connection. Instead of focusing on the exterior, try looking into the eyes of another to see the window to their humanity. You might find something much more and you never know what showing kindness might do for someone who is in great pain. And that will always mean more than anything in the long run.
The Whale is a film that is entirely human in nature. Flawed, ugly-at-times, frustrating, painful, sad, fragile, amusing-at-times and shabby. But also beautiful and compassionate at heart. Like the greatest artworks; it’s a story that finds what it is to be human…even if you are trapped in a 600 pound shell.
-Daniel M
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