Fat Bodies Don’t Exist for Your Entertainment
Ready Player One was one of my favorite books of 2017. I listened to the audio book and enjoyed it so much that immediately upon finishing it I excitedly texted my BFF about how it needed to be adapted into a movie. She replied that it already was, and I couldn’t wait to see it. We went and saw it opening weekend, and I enjoyed it. Well, most of it. But afterwards, I couldn’t get one line out of my head:
Aech: Z, you gotta be more careful about who you meet out on the OASIS. I’m serious. She could actually be a 300-pound dude who lives in his momma’s basement in suburban Detroit. And her name is Chuck.
SAD TROMBONE.
Oh man. I know it took less than 10 seconds for him to speak the line, and it was a blip on the radar, or even less, for most people in that theater. But for me? It was just another in-my-face reminder that society sees me as the worst possible thing imaginable.
Here’s the thing. That’s me, there in the picture. Do I look like a disgusting slob who lives in my mom’s basement tricking people on the internet? Do I look like the worst possible thing you can think of? Because I am about three small bags of flour away from 300 pounds.
Last time I went to the doctor, I weighed in at 291.
Does that surprise you?
This is far from the first time I’ve heard this exact thing, and I am 100% sure it won’t be the last.
How am I supposed to feel in the theater, or on my couch watching TV, or reading a book, when the number I would see on my scale is used as an example of pretty much the worst thing that could happen to a person?
How am I supposed to shake it off when 300 pounds means unclean, disgusting, unworthy, unlovable, unimaginable?
It happens all the time, and the more you notice it, the more you notice it. In the past, when I was less confident and less angry about the way the world treats people like me, I don’t think it struck the chord so hard. But now? It’s like when you get a new car, then you start seeing those cars everywhere.
Last night as I was watching an old episode of Cougar Town, a scene came on where Laurie and Bobby discussed accidentally asking people if they’re pregnant — he remarked, “there are a lot of fatties in this town.” It was offhanded, an everyday, minimizing joke. I love this show, but I’m disappointed and it dulls the sheen.
I have heard the trope of the ‘300-pound nerd’ in the basement (or in the D&D game or behind the gaming console or in the programmer job or or or) in so many iterations I can’t even name them all. Overweight people are portrayed as lazy, slovenly, disorganized, unclean, pathetic, unkempt, and uncouth. Newman on Seinfeld, Deedee on The Drew Carey Show, Roseanne, Nedry in Jurassic Park: they are there as foils to the actors at the center of the story. Actors who take up less space.
To add insult to injury, sometimes they don’t even hire fat actors for the limited roles that portray fat people! Instead, they dress up thin actors in terrible, unconvincing fat suits so they can use them to make jokes. Think Fat Monica on Friends, Fat Schmidt on New Girl, and at its worst, Gwyneth Paltrow in Shallow Hal, a movie entirely based on the premise that the worst, most humiliating punishment imaginable would be to date and be intimate with a fat woman. Every time I’m watching a TV show or movie and a fat person is used as the butt of a joke I just feel so disappointed. Again.
In other shows, they’re there to act as an example of the worst possible case — in an old episode of ER, for example, when someone is given the choice between treating an oozing boil or providing medical care to an obese woman. You can guess which they chose. When they get romantic plotlines, it’s only with another fat dude, a la Mike and Molly, or with a thinner actor who has been fattened up via fat suit to make it more believable a la Toby on This is Us.
The only time fat characters seem to exist without being used as a joke or an example of the least ideal human imaginable is when they are only there to tell a story about how shitty it is to be fat. I stopped watching This Is Us partially because I just can’t stomach the Kate storyline. Her character is sad and uninteresting. Her self-loathing and sole focus on her weight and getting rid of it is shrouded in fake fleeting moments where it seems like we’re supposed to see that she’s still worthy even though she’s fat. It reinforces the message that I am not okay the way I am, and that I should definitely be changing myself. Every single part of her story is tinged with losing the weight and how important it is. I’m sure Chrissy Metz is great, but I just can’t support a role that is so, so body negative.
On the news, we see B-roll of pixelated fatties as the anchors talk about new studies having to do with weight. People so devalued that it’s okay to show their bodies, but it would be way too embarrassing to show their faces in any context connected to the f-word.
Can we just be done with the fat-basement-recluse who’s hiding behind the internet because no one in their right mind would want to come face to face with such a hideous specimen? Can we get rid of these one-dimensional cardboard fats who are not there to portray interesting people with interesting stories? Who are there for one purpose — to be fat? Who make it abundantly clear to people like me that we don’t have fat, we ARE fat?
Things are slowly starting to shift. In the past 18 months, I’ve seen three whole characters in popular media who defy these tropes.
Plum Kettle on Dietland starts out in self-hatred and self-doubt, but gains power over time. In one scene, she is on her bed and her shirt rides up. I was left breathless because I have never seen a stomach like mine casually portrayed on TV. Not ever. She was canceled after the first season.
Aidy Bryant brilliantly portrays Annie Edison on Shrill, and if it doesn’t get a second season I’ll cry. The show is brilliant and touching and painful, and I sobbed during that pool party scene because I have never felt so seen or less alone watching a TV show. Something broke in me at seeing people like me. Finally. These are women finding their power.
Watching Rebel Wilson in Isn’t It Romantic was a breath of fresh air in that it largely ignores the fact that she’s fat. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a movie starring a woman her size where the size was not a major plot point. Rebel Wilson is fucking funny, and everything else comes after that.
But I’m coming up fast on 40, and that’s three characters in 40 years who were like me.
Next time you need to describe what someone should be afraid of, wary of, careful of… it would be nice if you didn’t use me and hundreds of other normal people like me, as an example. It’s hurtful and disappointing and unrealistic and so many other things. Fat people are PEOPLE. We are beautiful, strong, powerful, and worth more than a punchline, and we are not here for your entertainment.