By Tigress Osborn, NAAFA Board Chair

Editorial note: NAAFA objects to the designation of ob*sity as a disease and, in solidarity with many other advocates and activists for fat rights, we are adopting a policy of using an asterisk to replace one letter in that word and its variations in order to signal that the word is considered a slur by many in our community. We recognize that this word is considered appropriate medical terminology in some circles, but we remind our community that many other words that were once considered medical terminology are now understood to be inappropriate, inaccurate, or to be avoided for other reasons.

Content warning: discussion of ob*sity as a medical condition; references to anti-gay beliefs, suicide, binge eating, and weight shaming; mention of specific weight numbers; plot spoilers.

The Whale winning Oscars last Sunday is absolutely not a thing I wanted to be able to say “I told you so” about, but it’s no great surprise to me. Nor is it a surprise to the legions of fat people and others who’ve feared the industry recognition of this film for months now. Since the first trailers dropped for The Whale last year, Hollywood, the internet, and the fat-o-sphere have been abuzz with reactions to the movie. 

At NAAFA, our communications team, led by Communications Chair Amanda Cooper, is constantly evaluating which entertainment news warrants a comment from us, which news is better left to others to speak on, which we should ignore because it is unworthy of fat people’s attention, or which we must pass on because we simply don’t have capacity to take it all on. We’re a mostly volunteer organization with limited resources. We simply cannot address every time someone with a big name says or does something hateful or upsetting about big people. Anti-fatness is too pervasive. 

But we do know that some media moments have such far-reaching effects, our community needs to hear from us and so do those beyond our community who are interested in solidarity. So here I am to talk about The Whale. 

If you’ve already read a lot of Whale-related content or critique, or if you made the choice to see the movie yourself, you can skip this paragraph because its only purpose is to explain a bit about the movie for those who need some context. Actor Brendan Fraser takes on the role of Charlie, a 600-pound man in the final days of his life who is refusing to seek medical treatment for congestive heart failure. We see him only in his small home, depressed, grieving, binge eating, and isolating after the love of his life dies by suicide brought on by religious guilt about his sexual orientation. Charlie is trying desperately to redeem himself with his troubled daughter, all while being loved but judged by his bestie (a nurse who knows he is dying, who is also his dead lover’s sister), trying to be an inspiring virtual writing teacher (with his camera off, because he is ashamed for his students to see him), and dealing with a missionary who keeps showing up at his door. Between these interactions, we see Charlie breaking furniture, binge eating, and using accessibility aids to wash himself and to navigate his home. We also see him drugged by his teenage daughter, verbally abused by almost everyone in the movie, and declaring his own worthlessness.

Brendan Fraser just won a Best Actor Oscar for this role. 

Fraser, though larger now than he was in his 1990’s heartthrob heyday, is Hollywood fat, several hundred pounds smaller than the character. He wore a fat suit for the role, and the team that “perfected” the fake-fat Charlie was also awarded with an Oscar for their work. 

“no one from the production and very few people from the media seem to care at all about what NAAFA, the world’s oldest fat rights organization, had to say about one of the most talked about portrayals of a fat person in the history of motion pictures.”

When the sentiments about this movie becoming an award-winner continued to grow stronger in the months after its festival debut, we at NAAFA reached out to allies in the media to find someone who would give us access to a reviewer’s copy of the film. Based on everything we could see about the movie, no one on our team wanted to contribute a single penny to supporting this project. I opted to watch it so I would be prepared for outreach from journalists. 

Speaking a few months ago with a journalist for a national publication about another celebrity’s anti-fatness, the journalist referenced The Whale. “I wanted to ask you about the movie, but I figured you were tired of talking to the media about it,” she said. I hadn’t seen the movie yet at that point, but I was already exhausted from anti-fat attitudes so evident in people’s defense of it. 

But I wasn’t exhausted from talking to the media about it. The journalist was stunned to learn that only one media outlet had reached out to NAAFA for a reaction to the movie. Unlike the major anti-ob*sity organization that consulted with the filmmakers (more on that in a minute), no one from the production and very few people from the media seem to care at all about what NAAFA, the world’s oldest fat rights organization, had to say about one of the most talked about portrayals of a fat person in the history of motion pictures. 

The one online publication that did ask for NAAFA’s input relied so heavily on information from the Ob*sity Action Coalition that we chose not to share the article in our community. It wasn’t surprising that they included a lot of input from the OAC. Many publications turn to such groups for “expert” advice on fat people. 

The OAC is one of the go-to orgs for media commentary on anything related to fat, fat bodies, and fat people. You’ll see them often in articles and news reports, alongside the Ob*sity Society and the Rudd Center for Food Policy and Health (formerly known as the Rudd Center for Food policy and Ob*sity). They are asked about fat people all the time. (Check out our Media Study for more on who gets to talk about fat people in the media and what they talk about). 

“We deeply believe that the designation of ob*sity as a disease was incorrect, is unsubstantiated, and has created tremendous harm to fat people in the name of “helping” us.”

Not that they ever refer to us as fat people. Nor do they call us ob*se, even though their entire existence is focused on ridding the world of ob*sity. These organizations are quite proud of themselves for their use of People First Language, which leads them to refer to us as People with Ob*sity rather than as higher-weight people, plus-size people, or as NAAFA and many fat advocacy groups do, simply as fat people. Fat activists have objected to this for years. People First Language is considered respectful when talking about people with actual medical conditions. But the longtime assertion of the fat rights community is that fat is a natural part of human diversity, not a disease. We deeply believe that the designation of ob*sity as a disease was incorrect, is unsubstantiated, and has created tremendous harm to fat people in the name of “helping” us. 

Organizations like the Ob*sity Action Coalition appeal to fat people who either still hope to become thin people or who find relief in the message that their fat is a disease and therefore not their fault. Some fat people find camaraderie and a sense of community in the environments created by these organizations, all of whom insist that they are working to end weight stigma. Those environments include large-scale annual conventions, where People with Ob*sity can make friends and “learn the science” about “managing their disease.” The Ob*sity Action Coalition says that it works on behalf of all 93 million people in the US who are affected by ob*sity. They do this work through education, advocacy, and support. (If that sounds familiar, eliminating size discrimination through education, advocacy, and support has been the language of NAAFA’s mission statement for over five decades). 

The OAC and orgs like it also appeal to medical professionals and pharmaceutical companies. I am sure there are medical professionals and business people who also join these orgs because they genuinely (and NAAFA asserts, misguidedly) believe they are helping fat people. But the orgs also appeal to medical professionals who know how lucrative surgery and “treatment” can be in a world where there is neverending pressure to lose weight and where the lack of medical care–or care in any way– for fat people is limited to those who are actively trying to lose weight. And the orgs appeal to the pharmaceutical companies who make the most money off of medically administered weight cycling. Those pharma companies pour money into the OAC’s programming.

The OAC’s largest funder is Novo Nordisk, the manufacturers of life-saving diabetic medication and purveyors of weight loss drugs, including the drug de jour, Ozempic, which can serve both purposes (and has become hard for diabetics to get as it has trended for weight loss). Most of their other top funders are invested in one way or another in highly lucrative ob*sity “treatment.” 

Why the detour into the world of anti-ob*sity organizations? Because, more and more often lately, Hollywood operates in partnership with these organizations. It isn’t only that news outlets are turning to the OAC for their input on movies like The Whale. The Whale’s own production team turned to them, too. 

“They make no mention of ever consulting with any fat people other than those at the OAC. In 10 years.”

Both Fraser and director Darren Aronofsky, as well as writer Samuel D. Hunter, proudly espouse in interviews how much they learned about “authentic” fat lives from the people they met through the Ob*sity Action Coalition. The OAC has devoted a lot of resources to the movie, from arranging for members to talk to the moviemakers to producing Whale curriculum for their website. In fact, the movie now has a starring role on their website, including special features with the actor, writer, and director. (Please proceed with caution and extreme self-care if you choose to visit any of these organizations’ sites). 

Even though Aronofsky and Hunter have worked together on developing this movie since 2012, they make no mention of ever consulting with any fat people other than those at the OAC. In 10 years. As body positivity gained popularity, as fat entertainers gained popularity, as the world’s biggest weight loss company changed its name to pretend they are no longer focused on weight loss, it somehow still never occurred to these people that there might be fat people who have different ideas about their bodies than the handful of people they met through an anti-ob*sity organization?

But it’s no real surprise that these organizations are more recognizable to Hollywood. All of the major anti-ob*sity organizations have budgets in the mutl-millions, budgets that are exponentially larger than any long-existing fat liberation group, budgets that are exponentially larger than the budgets of all long-existing fat liberation groups combined. And they spend huge portions of those budgets on marketing, which includes securing media coverage of ob*sity.

The anti-ob*sity orgs have courted Hollywood, featuring popular performers in public health PSAs funded by manufacturers of weight loss drugs. Well-meaning fan favorites, such as the cast of Grey’s Anatomy, now regularly lend their names and talents to “helping” fat people by starring in disease awareness campaigns that function as undercover advertising campaigns for the medical weight loss industry. A standout example of this is the recent work of the Creative Coalition, a Hollywood non-profit whose mission is to better educate performers on issues of public importance so they can be well-informed when they lend their platforms to causes. Creative Coalition’s focus is  “primarily arts advocacy and public arts education.” Except when their focus is on ob*sity. 

Why might an arts and education org suddenly concern itself with one, and only one, public health issue? One can never say for sure, but what one can say for sure is that they are making PSAs for the OAC, all of their resources links point to the Ob*sity Society, and their link to “the science about weight” doesn’t go to independent research about weight science– it goes to a page sponsored by Novo Nordisk, the pharmaceutical company making the most money off of drugs to “manage” ob*sity.

And why might an anti-ob*sity organization like the OAC be so excited about The Whale? Their members will tell you that they are grateful to see their lives reflected on screen. In features on the OAC website, they sit with Fraser and enthusiastically thank him for his work while he earnestly nods and thanks them for their input. I have no doubt that they’re all sincere, including Fraser, who oozes good intention as he tells numerous media outlets that he felt totally committed to getting this right because he related so much to Charlie. But what do we know about good intentions, my fat friends? And what do we know about the multi-billion dollar diet industry’s record of twisting good intentions into profit and harm? And how might an anti-ob*sity organization and its major funders benefit from a movie that upholds a narrative of fat being both the cause and symptom of misery? 

The Ob*sity Action Coalition asserts that this movie needed to be made. “The reality is, there are people in the world with severe ob*sity,” they say. “They have lives. They have purpose. They have struggles. They have STORIES. And those stories deserve to be told." They declare this in statements to the media and on their own website. And, in that much at least, they are right– we need to hear the stories of fat people, including the negative parts of being fat. But other kinds of fat stories need to be told, too. And fat stories should be told by fat people. Writer Sam Hunter emphasizes in interviews that he was just trying to tell one man’s story (which he says is based on his own experience, even though he admits he has never been anything even remotely close to 600 pounds, and even though he admits Charlie didn’t start out so large). Everyone involved in this movie can claim they were just telling one story out of so many that could be told, as so many movies do. But they know full well that this story reinforces existing beliefs about fat people being to blame for their own miserable fates, the only fates that many audiences can imagine for a person like Charlie.

“Where are the efforts of the anti-ob*sity groups to use their ample resources to ensure that fat actors get work, that fat writers get to tell their stories, that fat directors get to make their movies?“

I’ve been trying to explain to people in my own circle for months now that part of the problem with The Whale is not the movie itself, but that the movie exists in a Hollywood landscape in which there are still very few fat people at all and almost no positive depictions of fat people. Where are the efforts of the anti-ob*sity groups to use their ample resources to ensure that fat actors get work, that fat writers get to tell their stories, that fat directors get to make their movies? Isn’t that part of ending weight stigma, which they claim to be committed to? Who’s making sure fat make-up artists and costume designers get work and reward, not just the people who create fake versions of us? Why doesn’t the OAC pressure the Academy to make sure clips of fake-fat actors in fat suits are not the only time we see big people at the Oscars? Why doesn’t the Creative Coalition use its influence to ensure that audiences are educated about injustice towards fat people, in their own industry and in every other system on earth? 

Brendan Fraser tells the OAC roundtable that the creative team at The Whale couldn’t have made this “authentic” and “truthful” movie about a 600-pound man without the relationship the team and the OAC built with each other. But they absolutely could have. They could have chosen to seek input from fat people across a wide spectrum of views, not just the ones who wouldn’t protest their fat suit and who wouldn’t interrupt their plan to make the kind of tragedy the Academy loves to award regardless of what anyone else had to say about it. Imagine making a movie about a marginalized group, collaborating only with people who think that group needs to be cured of being who they are, then telling yourself and the rest of the world that you did it right and that was the only way to do it.

“The OAC legitimizes this movie while this movie legitimizes the OAC. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement of spectacular audacity.”

The OAC legitimizes this movie while this movie legitimizes the OAC. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement of spectacular audacity, presented in earnest by people who have convinced themselves that they have taken on this project to the betterment of fat people (it is not for our betterment) and that we should trust them to represent us (we should not and do not). The Oscar win all but guarantees that more movies like this will be made. That will make a lot of people a lot of money, in Hollywood and beyond. 

That may be a win for somebody, but it is surely not a win for fat people.

Other Articles from the March 2023 Newsletter