Cast: Anaïs Reboux, Roxane Mesquida, Libero De Rienzo, Arsinée Khanjian, Romain Goupil
Director: Catherine Breillat
Producer: Jean-François Lepetit
Screenplay: Catherine Breillat
Cinematography: Yorgos Arvanitis
U.S. Distributor: Cowboy Pictures
In French with subtitles
With Romance, Catherine Breillat's first motion picture to receive widespread international distribution, the director established herself as someone willing to break taboos in the service of a story. Romance gained notoriety for its hard-core sex scenes, but these were not designed to titillate or to widen the film's appeal. Instead, they were important to the movie's overall theme about female sexual empowerment. Fat Girl, Breillat's latest, also concerns itself with issues of female sexuality, albeit of another sort. Like Romance, the film contains images that will make puritanical viewers gasp aloud (a condom being placed on an erect penis; simulated sex involving a young, fully naked girl), and, as in the director's earlier effort, there is a point to such graphic sexual displays.
Fat Girl is a story about sisterhood and sexual discovery. The movie, which includes far more talking than it does sex, is not designed as a tool for arousal. Breillat has worked to de-eroticize the sex scenes, allowing them to work as character-building devices and instances to support her thesis. The film does not have a positive view of men (the same was true of Romance). The male lead is presented as a user and manipulator who will say and do anything to complete a conquest. On the other hand, the girls are not exonerated either - they are presented as being as eager and curious about sex as their male counterparts. Fat Girl also makes a point that beautiful women, who tend to be romantics, may be easier prey for seducers than ugly girls, who tend to have a more pragmatic view of gender interaction.
Anaïs (Anaïs Reboux) is the overweight 12-year old sister of beautiful, svelte Elena (Roxane Mesquida). At age 15, Elena is blossoming sexually, and her fantasies are of losing her virginity to a man she loves. Anaïs, on the other hand, believes it is best to have a first sexual experience with someone when love is not involved - that way, there's no possibility of disillusionment. Anaïs and Elena have a fairly typical sibling relationship - warm and affectionate at times, contentious at others. Elena resents her parents' edict that she has to take Anaïs with her whenever she leaves the vacation house where they are staying. This becomes especially problematic when Elena meets Fernando (Libero De Rienzo), an older boy with whom she wants to explore her sexuality. Because of her sister's constant presence, she ends up losing her virginity while Anaïs is in the same room, pretending to be asleep.
Breillat's film explores the intriguing relationship of sisters as they approach sexual maturity. She depicts the solidarity and rivalry, the support and jealousy that are in constant conflict in the interaction between Anaïs and Elena. One particularly telling scene brings this to the forefront. While Elena is having her first sexual experience, Anaïs begins to cry. There are three possible reasons for the tears: (1) sadness that Anaïs' beliefs about the non-romantic nature of sex have been proven correct, (2) jealousy that her sister is experiencing something she desires but has not yet achieved, and/or (3) a sympathetic reaction to Elena's loss of innocence.
Elena's deflowering is presented as being fairly typical of what happens when an attractive girl is enraptured with an older man. Fernando is aware of Elena's feelings and uses these to his advantage. He is a master manipulator, employing all the weapons of manipulation at his disposal: guilt, jealousy, lies, promises, and threats. For her part, Elena recognizes Fernando's manipulation, but allows herself to fall under his spell because she wants there to be romance and love associated with her first time. She is an accomplice in the deception, participating by duping herself into believing that Fernando's motives are less base than they actually are.
Both lead actresses - Anaïs Reboux, making her feature debut, and Roxane Mesquida - accomplish superlative jobs. It's never difficult accepting them as individuals or as siblings. Their problems and reactions are entirely credible. Solid support is provided by Libero De Rienzo as Fernando - he imbues his character with enough humanity that we never view him as a completely self-centered bastard. The film also features Arsinée Khanjian (aka Mrs. Atom Egoyan) and Romain Goupil as the sisters' mother and father.
Breillat is clearly a skilled filmmaker. She doesn't rush the sexual encounters between Elena and Fernando, and uses a series of abnormally long, unbroken shots to present these, adding an additional layer of realism. During the movie's final third, as events move towards their conclusion, she develops a burgeoning sense of menace that serves the finale well. Breillat is less certain when it comes to things like foreshadowing - in at least one instance, she is too obvious.
Fat Girl's ending, which is steeped in the blackest of ironies, may be unnecessarily sensationalistic. For a movie that is believable for most of its running time, such an over-the-top conclusion seems out of place. Without question, it drives home a point, but the price may not be worth the benefit. Couldn't Breillat have accomplished the same aim without compromising the tone of an otherwise insightful and perfectly-pitched motion picture? Nevertheless, Fat Girl represents one of the most honest and unvarnished looks at the harsh side of being a teenager since Todd Solondz's Welcome to the Dollhouse.
© 2001 James Berardinelli