Fourteen years ago, Darren Aronofsky won the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival for The Wrestler, the film that recalled the rambling scene of Randy “The Ram” Robinson, an aging wrestling star trying to reconnect with someone. Her daughter deserts as she destroys herself in the ring with punches and acrobatic kicks. In addition to the American director’s coronation, The Wrestler marked Mickey Rourke’s big (albeit short-lived) return to the top acting department: a resurgence that had him flirting with a Hollywood Oscar. Now, with The Whale, it appears Aronofsky wants to repeat the successful move with a horrific family drama in which Brendan Fraser, an outcast for years, presents one of those shows that captivates the Yankee Film Academy. Although, on this occasion, the protagonist of the film does not whip himself by tilting and taking blows, but instead punishes his own body by eating excessively junk food.
In The Whale, Fraser plays Charlie, a lone writing teacher weighing over 250 kilograms whose insatiable excesses put him on the brink of death. Liz (Hong Cho) visits Charlie daily, a bent nurse who helps him deal with his precarious physical condition, even though his deep sadness is rooted in a thick fabric of emotional scars. Traumatized by a tragic loss and sensing the end of his days, Charlie attempts to re-establish a bond with his 17-year-old daughter, Ellie (Sadi Sink, Max Mayfield in Stranger Things), but the weight of lost time comes as a burden. A burden that is difficult to bear. The plot, based on the play of the same name by Samuel D Hunter, takes place inside Charlie’s apartment and allows Aronofsky to return to his interest in working with stifling places and situations, something that has appeared in films such as “Requiem for a Dream” or “Mother”, on the Although it should be said that the New York director on this occasion is distancing himself from formal experiments to adopt a more classic and more traditional theatrical show.
If, in the aesthetic department, Aronofsky shows his most contained face in The Whale, in the dramatic aspect, the Black Swan director goes in search of extremes. The hero’s self-destruction is presented as a harrowing feast of arrhythmia, drowning, brutal pleasure, sudden fall, and inability to move, though Charlie’s greatest pain resides in his heart, as has been pointed out. Despite being a friendly person and exhibiting a commendable posture, this fat man appears to have been touched by fate, something Aronofsky highlights by inviting most of the characters to treat him with contempt; Even those who appreciate him fall into disregard driven by the self-loathing that the protagonist carries behind his back.
In his relationship with others, the words that often come to Charlie’s lips are “sorry.” Guilt and the search for redemption are the two great themes in Aronofsky’s work, and “Whale” is no exception. The reference to a sinister group known as the New Life, which promises deliverance at the end of imminent days, seems to distance Aronofsky from his usual interest in Christian parables. However, when it comes to revealing the moral and ideological background to his new cinematic connections, the director of “Noé” returns to using faith in others and the idea of overcoming a certain light (or existential elevation) through sacrifice.
Besides its raucous drama, The Whale features the work of Brendan Fraser, who he manages to create from the depths of synthetic makeup (in the manner of Gary Oldman in Darkest Hour). A character who navigates between the well of despair and wellness and the expression of true tenderness. It is unfortunate that the potential for complexity in his character – a kind and loving man who was able to abandon his daughter at the age of eight – is weighed down by a text designed to emphasize his piety dimension. With a mood closer to the formidable than measured note, the “whale” walks toward the light leaving behind a trail of pain and glory.
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