I have a rule when I write this blog that I will primarily write about interesting films, not necessarily good ones. While The Fabelmans was great, I ran out of things to say after describing the plot. Therefore, it is to the credit of The Whale that it’s probably the most interesting film I’ve written about for a while.

The film is about Charlie, who following the death of his boyfriend has ballooned up to 600lbs. Following a heart attack in the opening scene of the movie, we learn he only has days to live due to his congestive heart failure. His life involves his nurse, a preacher who wants to save his soul and his daughter who he abandoned eight years ago, who is struggling with life. The movie then looks at people wanting to save one another in different ways, mainly looking at Charlie and his daughter.

No doubt the first thing you will see is that Brendan Fraser’s character is notably bigger than Fraser himself. This is thanks to a fat suit he wears. It’s convincing and never does it feel inauthentic. Alongside Frasers tall lumbering frame and some incredible hair and make up, we get this character that is not a man in a fat suit but a person.

Maybe it’s due to the fact that characters like Charlie don’t lead films, it takes a while to get used to. However, I feel the opening scenes set this film up to fail. When you see Charlie lumbering around, pushed along with a daunting soundtrack the film seems to relish a form of disgust. Look at this freak show, what an idiot. Obviously it’s a contrived way to show some humanity later on, but it defines him and at the point we realise he is going to die, we don’t get the full impact as we just see this body. Maybe it’s meant to be a reflection on a wider society, but it comes across as exploitative. There is a similar scene near the end where Charlie seems to give up where the music and his actions are made to look disgusting, not to show the fact this character has given up, but to show a horrible thing happening. It doesn’t feel sad but cheap. It’s in these moments this film has less heart, using the shock factor to stick in your mind.

The film wants to show a humanity in Charlie and Brendan Fraser does try that. He’s a character whose given up. His apartment is messy and dark, with very little light showing at all. He’s embarrassed by himself and is clearly not in a place where he wants to live, eating himself to death and refusing hospital treatment. Despite this, I never really felt like we got to see Charlie’s humanity. Everything about him is rarely said by himself. Instead his nurse will say things or his daughter explains his life and he looks sad. The film happens around him, not with him and that means we never really get into his character’s truth. This is ironic as his character always tells his students and daughter to write their truth. Ultimately, the story tries to say his truth is his size, which he keeps hidden from his students. This feels a betrayal of his emotional truth.

The film itself reminds me of Aftersun in its themes. It’s actually very similar. A father who has given up on life looks to create memories and legacies for a daughter after he’s gone. However, while Aftersun is a classy nuanced piece of cinema which feels genuine, The Whale feels more contrived, wearing its cognitively failing heart on its sleeve. Everything feels stage like and almost false. You can’t ever get over the fact they’re acting. These lines aren’t natural, they fit their themes. None feel wasted in a stage way, we don’t ever get our characters just talking, but instead working their way through a scene. However, the benefit to this is the emotional climax which will make audiences feel something and no doubt help Fraser win awards, unlike Aftersun’s more restrained Mescal.

I guess this review has primarily focussed on the negatives. Does that mean this is a bad film, no not at all. It’s well made and well acted. Charlie looks incredible and the scenery around them is brilliant. It also makes you think, portraying something new and different. However, its contrived nature means you don’t necessarily feel the humanity you should, the humanity that Charlie deserves.