Beloved actor Brendan Fraser made a powerful return to the big screen with his Oscar-worthy performance in “The Whale” after decades away from the spotlight.
“The Whale” is a 2022 film directed by Darren Aronofsky based on a play of the same name. It follows Charlie, played by Brendan Fraser, a 600-pound English teacher who hopes to reconnect with his estranged daughter in what he feels may be his final days.
Charlie left his wife and daughter Ellie, played by Samantha Morton and Sadie Sink respectively, to pursue a relationship with a man. When their affair ended in tragedy, Charlie developed an eating disorder, supported only by his nurse Liz, played by Hong Chau. Meanwhile, an outsider perspective enters the story in the form of a young Mormon missionary named Thomas, played by Ty Simpkins.
The film is a gut-wrenching character study, showing the life of a man whose faith in humanity is unrelentless, except for in himself. The heart and soul of this work is Fraser’s performance. Dubbed the “Brenaissance” by some fans, Fraser’s comeback in recent years has been met with overwhelmingly positive support.
After his time as a Hollywood heartthrob in films like “The Mummy” and “Looney Tunes: Back in Action,” Fraser seemed to vanish from the acting scene in the early 2000s. After a film executive allegedly sexually assaulted him, along as other personal struggles, his career was put on pause, with the actor taking only a few minor roles over the years.
However, since around 2018, Fraser has slowly been making a comeback, notably in the comic book adaptation scene. Fraser was widely praised in the role of Robotman in the DC show “Doom Patrol,” and was set to appear in the now canceled “Batgirl” film as the villainous Firefly.
“The Whale” marks his first major theatrical performance in years, and he does a remarkable job in crafting a character with visceral nuance. Donning a fat suit and heavy prosthetics, Fraser exposes incredible vulnerability in playing a sickly man, making every breath sound labored and every movement a struggle. But beyond his physical look, Charlie is portrayed as a man with a deeply-rooted sadness hidden under an exterior of unadulterated optimism and hope for the people around him.
Even under layers of makeup, Fraser focuses on humanizing Charlie. With the constant “Moby Dick” allegories, the idea of the whale holding unseen emotions can be applied to the external perceptions of Charlie. “I’m sorry” is his default response, as he shackles the blame of his circumstances onto himself alone, while desperately wanting to see those around him maximize their potential. However, one of the more controversial aspects of the film is how the story treats Charlie, and the film has been hit with accusations of fatphobia because of this. While Aronofsky has addressed these comments, many critics stand by their claims.
Some feel that the depiction of his obesity is borderline exploitative, hammering in a constant sense of pity the audience is supposed to feel. Every time Charlie struggles standing or gorges on food, the film seems to emphasize his difficulties and even the dirtiness of the man. Although it is crucial to provide an authentic depiction, these repetitive sequences feel as though they are attempting to wring out artificial sympathy from viewers. At times, it feels like a routine circus act by making all of these actions a part of some animalistic show, and it takes all of Fraser’s ability to ground him in real empathy.
As an adaptation of a play, the film operates within the same framework, as it is set mostly in a single location with more actors moving in and out of the room versus the rooms themselves changing. While it never feels constrained in its environment, it leaves an odd taste in one’s mouth by the end of it because of how abruptly it ends.
The film itself attempts to tackle a many themes, including but not limited to religion, sex and existentialism, but it never truly resolves many of them. These ideas are all shown through the conversations Charlie has with those around him, but only one of them is given proper closure.
After one final discussion with Liz on the notion of the inability to “save” people, she simply exits without any further comment. After a long-desired reunion with his ex-wife, they share a tender moment, only for it to segue into another devastating sequence. Even his relationship with Thomas seems to end in joyous resolution before seemingly unraveling much of their connection in a single, bitter moment ending in an ellipsis.
One could argue that some stories are better left open-ended and that these sudden exits make sense in the context of a play. However, when adapted to film, they feel more like unfinished sentences than thought-provoking questions.
The only relational conclusion the film works to portray is Charlie and Ellie finally reconciling after distant years. Sniffles were heard throughout the theater as Sink and Fraser provide one of the most moving and powerful moments in film this year.
Simply put, “The Whale” is a film that may leave one conflicted. Aronofsky’s complex questions of morality push audiences into intellectual turmoil, as they are forced to confront the ideas presented in the film. Even so, there is so much explored that it may leave viewers overwhelmed, on top of the generally uneasy feeling as persistent as the fog-horn-like score heard throughout. Perhaps it is the moral ambiguity present through every character. For every redeeming quality, they are equally as sinful, ultimately subverting the clear-cut morality of most stories presented in escapist cinema.
Even though the script and story never really break out of their theater bubble and may feel unsatisfying as a whole, the work is worth seeing for the remarkable performances themselves. Everyone plays their role in crafting this story, whether it be Chau’s overbearing, but anxious care of Charlie, Simpkins’ naïve mask covering his past or Sink’s dry aggression that morphs into inadvertent love.
Above all, Fraser channels his many years away from the industry into an emotionally brutal performance one cannot help but be captivated by. His voice provides what the film both needs and preaches: honesty in what otherwise could have been a superficial and manipulative story of a tragic individual.
“The Whale” is available in select theaters starting Dec. 9, 2022.