This review was originally part of our 2022 Venice Film Festival coverage.

Brendan Fraser was one of the biggest movie stars for a solid decade. His disappearance was sudden, but it perhaps didn’t register because he was a different type of movie star. He was likable. There was no method acting, bad boy drama. And the movies that made him famous were easily likable, too, without being arthouse favorites. Attentions drift to headline makers and new thunderbolts who balanced complicated fare with blockbusters.

The Whale is Fraser’s first leading role in a theatrical movie in a decade. It’s directed by Darren Aronofsky and has been placed at various film festivals by the biggest indie label of modern times, A24. That’s what the business likes to call a comeback vehicle. And Oscar? They love a comeback story. And Fraser’s comeback doesn’t come from working back through addiction or bad behavior on set it comes from self-care after a retreat inward. The Whale is ultimately about trying to provide the tools of self-care to someone else. People can’t be saved by others. They must save themselves, but they can be helped by others. Therein lies part of the problem of The Whale, the main character is not a vessel for his own journey but for a secondary character, and, by extension, the audience.
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Fraser plays Charlie, an English teacher living with extreme obesity. He conducts online lectures with his camera off. He has a set routine, which includes regular visits from his caretaker, who has ties to his past (Hong Chau), and Dan, the pizza delivery guy who follows the regular instructions of delivery — leave on the ledge, money is in the mailbox. His routine is disturbed by two young people. An unwanted visitor and a desired visitor. The first is a missionary (Ty Simpkins) who knocks on the door the moment that Charlie is close to suffering a heart attack while masturbating to pornography. The young New Lifer decides it’s his mission to check in regularly on the state of Charlie’s soul—before his inevitable death. The other is Charlie’s estranged daughter (Sadie Sink), whom he hasn’t seen in eight years and hopes to reconnect with before his inevitable death.

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The estranged daughter story, of course, sounds very similar to Aronofsky’s The Wrestler. And though that tangent of The Wrestler is the weakest angle in that film it does expose who The Wrestler works better than The Whale. The Wrestler had a world to explore. There, it was professional wrestling many rungs down from what’s on television; local fare, low paying, with codes to protect each other but serious bodily harm is a constant threat.

The Whale not only has no outside world and, being contained to one setting, all the characters arrive to make declarations. Single-setting films can definitely feel cinematic and bigger than the location due to well-written characters. But the characters in The Whale only speak direct wants, needs, and desires every moment they are on screen. It does not feel organic or real.

The best moment is when Sink’s mother arrives, questioning the contact that was made because she has full custody (Charlie left the family because he was in love with a man; though blissful for a time, it ended in tragedy). It’s a single scene between Samantha Morton and Fraser. It’s the best scene in the movie because it’s the least predictable. There’s time to reflect, to pause in a doorway to make an offering. And the area to explode through years of shared shattered expectations. Morton, too, was more of a mainstay in the early 2000s and has faded into lesser roles. Fraser’s best emotional acting is opposite her. There’s a flicker of a long faded connection. Outside of this scene, it’s primarily a parade of battling testimonies from the two younger characters, with Chau there to calm down an overbearing musical score.

Image via Vanity Fair

Aronofsky, too, does seem to amplify Fraser’s manipulated body with some questionable shots. Not quite body-shaming or disgust, but they do have a carnival quality of step right up, folks! See the Whale!! (Reminder: the character is physically introduced through masturbation which signals the desire to shock with his body, right from the get, something opposite of the tear-drenched ending and partially why the ending doesn’t feel earned to me). This could be due to the single-location setting, with the only place for Aronofsky to provide visual flair, but it runs counter to an attempt at empathy. Instead, it feels like gawking.

The Whale did not move me because most of the character interactions announced themselves loudly and with increasing frequency. It is inorganic, gimmicky, manipulative, and its lessons are simplistic. As a character, Charlie remains mostly a body. He has a kindness to him, but this role is mostly to react to the wants and needs of others. The Whale does not engage outside of the known narrative of the actor in the film — it’s his comeback! Despite what the Internet might be broadcasting, it is possible to be happy for a Brendan Fraser “Brenaissance” and still think this is closed-circuit claptrap.

Rating: D+

The Whale is now playing in theaters.

Where to Watch The Whale — Showtimes