Review: Not much thought involved in ‘Fat Girl’

Geoff Carter

Friday, March 1, 2002 | 9:02 a.m.

"If I meet a man I love, I'd want to be broken in," says Anais (Anais Reboux), the title character of "Fat Girl." (She's the only female in the movie who isn't a stick.) "The first time should be with nobody," she continues. "I don't want a guy bragging he had me first. Guys are sick."

Her sister, Elena (Roxane Mesquida), hears but doesn't hear. She wants to fall in love before she agrees to give up her virginity. Just a few minutes later, the girls meet Fernando (Libero de Rienzo), a smooth-talking rakehell with eyes for Elena and disdain for Anais. Elena kisses him sloppily while Anais eats a banana split and feigns disinterest.

Disaffect is the primary mood of "Fat Girl." As written and directed by Catherine Breillat, this French film doesn't give a thought to anyone -- not its characters, and certainly not its audience. It provides too little context, making its characters largely unsympathetic, and it hits you with an ending that's too grim, even for its blackly comic parting shot.

What Breillat does correctly is portray the awkwardness and futility of The First Time. Fernando and Elena lie in bed for hours, and I mean that quite literally -- they lie to each other so badly that you can't help but laugh (it's the only real humor in the film). Elena protests too much, and Fernando convinces her that sodomy is a "demonstration of love."

Through all this nonsense, Anais watches silently, growing increasingly upset. Her need for intimacy is as great as that of her older sister, yet she seems to understand it better; unfortunately, her girth would seem to deflect interest. Even her sister tortures her mercilessly about it; Anais smiles and ignores her. She's heard it all.

Fernando is beyond desperate by the third act, and makes a fatal error that drives Elena, Anais and their mother toward their destiny. Breillat sets everything up patiently, and tips her hand more than once -- look for the title of the David Bowie song that plays near the end -- but ultimately, her ending is cheap and unsatisfying, even if it works. It puts a bad taste in your mouth.

Anais often sings dirges to herself. One goes, "After my death I'll still be bored. More than ever before."

Whether the cure for her boredom is worth the cost remains unknown, which would be more upsetting if you believed for one minute that "Fat Girl" actually cared that you care. In that way, the film is more like a teenager than its main characters are.