2022 saw a resurgence of many famous stars who've been off the radar for years. Heartthrob Channing Tatum made an impressive directorial debut (with co-writer Reid Carolin) for the military road drama Dog, and made an impeccable duo alongside Sandra Bullock for the adventure comedy The Lost City. Former Goonie Ke Yun Quay fought and held his own alongside Michelle Yeoh in Everything Everywhere All At Once. Even Lindsay Lohan began popping up on Netflix in a trending holiday rom-com. But the biggest comeback story of the year undoubtedly belongs to Brendan Fraser, for his bravura performance in Darren Aronofsky's hard-hitting, psychological drama, The Whale.
Those of us who grew up in the 1990s and early-2000s have fond memories of this beloved actor. Whether he's playing an unfrozen Neanderthal (1992's Encino Man), a Tarzan parody (1997's George of the Jungle), or a daring explorer battling undead monsters (1999's The Mummy), it's fair to say that Fraser has been a significant part of our childhoods. He even managed to hold his own in more serious roles opposite such esteemed thespians as Ian McKellan (1998's Gods and Monsters) and Michael Caine (2002's The Quiet American). At the moment, Fraser has been receiving the best accolades of his career for his role as a severely overweight, gay English teacher in the big-screen adaptation of Samuel Hunter's stage play of the same name.
The story follows the titular Charlie, as he struggles to maintain his failing health and reconnect with his estranged teenage daughter with the time he has left. But the film is so much more layered than that simple premise; ditto the story's singular apartment setting. Using a 1.33:1 aspect ratio, The Whale (a reference to Herman Melville's classic novel, Moby Dick) is a thoroughly gripping, heartbreaking, and claustrophobic experience that chronicles Charlie's daily routine (how he walks around, how he showers, how he cooks), as well as his selfish choices and complicated relationships, including his daughter (a riveting, angst-driven Sadie Sink), his best friend and nurse (a compelling Hong Chau), his estranged wife (Samantha Morton, in an intense sequence), and a local missionary (Ty Simpkins). Fraser has described this role as the most compassionate he's ever played, and it's easy to see why. Thanks to impressive makeup effects, a moving score, powerful direction, immersive cinematography and production design, and a phenomenal, central performance, viewers are equally engrossed and distressed by Charlie's arc.
But be forewarned. While we already knew this would be a heavy psychological drama (no pun intended), the results are far more challenging, emotional, and depressing. The film has been criticized for "fat-shaming"; to be fair, Fraser and the filmmakers partnered with the Obesity Coalition in order to accurately and honestly portray an overweight person. But the film's biggest concerns have less to do with those elements.
For one thing, an opening sequence finds Charlie masturbating to a gay sex online video. Discussions around Charlie's sexuality, and the subplot that he left his wife and child for somebody else years ago, reoccur later on, and it's a topic that is always met with damaging consequences--emotionally, mentally, physically, and spiritually.
There are also discussions of faith, religion, and Christianity, with characters who reject it based on their own heartbreaking experiences, and instead indulge in the flesh or their own form of recklessness. (To its credit, the film doesn't portray these characters as conventional negative stereotypes, but as genuine, complicated individuals who have specific reasons for their own worldviews, and strong examples of showing compassion towards such people.) It's fitting that one of the central key verses, which best sums up the film's plot, comes from Romans 8:12-13 in the New Testament. The passage reads, "Therefore, brothers, we have an obligation, but it is not to the flesh, to live according to it. For if you live according to the flesh, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. . . ." And then there's the issue of whether certain people are worthy of salvation, forgiveness, or help in general, focusing on pain more than hope.
In the end, while we feel sorry for Charlie and root for him to make better choices, we need to think twice about the effects that his choices have caused him and others, and what he's forgotten matters most--his own family. It may not be one of Fraser's fondest roles per se, but it surely is one of his most harrowing and unforgettable.
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