Fat

We can all relate to this at times. Addiction affects everyone differently and to varying extremes. This film brings addiction to the forefront and makes it easier to discuss. Well done!

Such a well acted, well written film about a man whose self-loathing around his body causes a domino effect in the rest of his life.

I am honestly writing this review to combat what was posted in someone else's super ignorant, bigoted review where they felt the need to state, quote, "WARNING: This film contains graphic depictions of obese male nudity."

First, this is false. Unless the cut of the film presented at film festivals was very different from what is available on Amazon, there is literally no nudity in the film. The main actor, Mel Rodriguez, is shown at one brief moment sitting on a toilet with no clothes on, but we don't see his genitals at all. In other moments he is shown in quite conservative boxer shorts, and that is the extent of the alleged "nudity".

One assumes this person thinks that the idea of seeing a fat person undressed is so horrifying to the general public that they need to give them a WARNING as to the potential awfulness of it, which is deeply offensive and counter-intuitive to the film's message.

This is such a powerful film covering issues that are still rarely talked about in the UK. Addiction is any form is a disease that needs the support of the right people. This film was incredible. It covered the issues, there were a great mix of tears and laughter along the way. A great representation.

There have been very few films that have treated food addiction seriously, portraying with realism and sensitivity the struggles of the dangerously obese. FAT will therefore get attention simply for its subject matter. But what makes the film shine is its unusual combination of very dark drama and consistent character-driven humor. Imagine if REQUIEM FOR A DREAM were about food rather than drugs ... and was sometimes very funny.

The focus here is squarely on fat Ken (veteran TV actor Mel Rodriguez, excellent), but what makes the story work is his relationship with lifelong best friend Terry (improv comedy vet Jason Dugre). We witness Ken's downward spiral of self-sabotage, but he remains intensely sympathetic because we see him just often enough through Terry's eyes. There's no need to give us back story showing Ken when he was more pleasant to be around, because the person Ken used to be is implied by Terry's devotion to him. At the same time, the sometimes disturbing drama is made tolerable by their darkly comic give-and-take about Ken's travails. It's sharp screen writing, right down to an absolutely perfect ending.

The rest of the cast are largely first-timers; there are a couple of weak performances in small roles (the only thing that betrays the film's shoestring-budget origins), but Ashley Lauren is very solid and believable as a romantic interest and Kevin Patey a mild hoot as a filthy-minded (i.e., male) co-worker.

After debuting at TIFF two years ago, the movie has been re-cut and picked up for premieres in Boston (where I saw it as a member of the local art-house cinema that also had the Boston premieres of Black Mass and Spotlight) and LA, before going to VOD. I think it has a substantial chance to become a VOD hit for two simple reasons: there's never been a movie like this, and it's very, very good.

Being overweight is often a painful and isolating experience, and the film Fat portrays that reality with an unflinching eye. It follows the life of an obese man who is too stubborn to change, and instead of focusing solely on losing weight, the story dives into his struggle with emotional avoidance and addiction to unhealthy habits.

The main character clearly wants to enjoy a "normal" social life-the kind that thinner, more conventionally attractive people often take for granted. But his biggest obstacle isn't just the weight itself; it's his inability to confront his feelings and take responsibility for his choices. The film does a good job showing how deeply rooted self-destructive behaviors can be, especially when tied to emotional pain.

As an indie, low-budget production, Fat uses a documentary-style, handheld camera approach. At first, this feels jarring and even distracting, especially during dramatic moments when the director opts for awkward zoom-ins. These zooms, in my opinion, don't add much and sometimes detract from the emotional impact. Still, the handheld style contributes to the film's raw, realistic tone, which seems to be the director's intention-and in that regard, it works.