Sunday, June 13, 2010

An Involuntary Burlesque Act

I was watching "But I'm a Cheerleader" late one night last week- great movie, by the way- and was amused by Cathy Moriarty's character's insistence that campers at her gay-to-straight camp figure out their "root"- a moment or event that's the reason why they are gay (apparently being born gay ain't cutting it for her). My favorite was the cute little Jewish boy who shudders and says "breasts." If anyone can understand how dangerous breasts are, its me- my girls are high caliber weapons. It occurred to me, though, that while the idea that homosexuals have a "root" that makes them gay is utterly ridiculous, I think some overweight people (namely me) have just that- a root, a reason why they have put up literally a physical barrier between themselves and others. And like an unhealed wound or a broken bone that did not heal properly, it needs to be acknowledged and dealt with in order to make peace with yourself. Perhaps making peace means being able to lose the weight, maybe it means accepting, like Cannie in Good in Bed, that "I will never be thin, but I will be happy." Its beyond being comfortable in your own skin, at least for me- I got there in my late 20's. For me (and I can only speak for me), its about not sabotaging my weight loss efforts and letting it come off.

Whenever you read fat chick-lit, there's always an obvious root- rape, abuse-those are novels, so of course its clear-cut. I suspect that in real life, for others as well as for me, the root is really a many-headed monster, not just one defining moment or event. Hurrah for fat chick-lit novels, though, that the themes generally pertain to finding the root, dealing with it, and healing, whether weight is lost or not. Wally Lamb's She's Come Undone and anything by Jennifer Weiner (Good in Bed is a fave of mine) are excellent novels about life from the fat girl perspective. Its hard out there for fat people, male or female, and I won't diminish either gender's perspective. But just like its harder to be a girl than a guy, its harder to be a fat girl than a fat guy. Trust me, I know- I'm a fat girl in LA.

Case and point- Seth Rogen. A movie where he knocks up Katherine Heigl and she falls for him is greenlighted and a hit, but you bet your bottom dollar that a movie where Chris Pine knocks up a fat girl and then falls for her isn't going to get the same treatment. At a recent meeting for a film I co-wrote and am producing and will act in (yes, the heroine is a fat girl!), we were discussing potential casting and an actor who is very handsome and whom we have already put out feelers on was brought up. Someone in a position of power politely suggested that this actor would not be a good choice because we wouldn't be a "believable couple." Awesome. I already go to lengths to make sure this is not a vanity project for me, and I want the film to get made and on a screen, so okay. I want to fill out the cast with character actors and prove that you can tell a compelling story without hiring the most beautiful people possible, so its all good, I think.

Fast forward to a casting wish list meeting a few weeks later- Patrick (director), Kevin (my producing partner) and me. We were chatting and bouncing ideas around- some actors that we will actually get in touch with, some more prototypes/ pie in the sky (whichever you prefer to call them). Kevin suggested an actor he went to school with for the character of Matt, my character, Tara's, ex husband. This actor is a name talent (good) and a darn fine actor (even better) and totally gorgeous. I tentatively started explaining what I was told about hiring actors to play opposite me that are that too handsome and "believable coupling." Patrick and Kevin both protested (loyal and true men both of them) that that was ridiculous and I'm very pretty myself. I told them its not about that, I know I'm cute, and I'm not fishing for compliments, I just want to make the best film possible. Kevin shushed me, told me he knew I wasn't fishing, and to listen to what he had to say. You attract hot guys yourself, he said, why should Tara be any different than you? He found it completely believable that this actor as Matt would find me as Tara attractive because Tara, like me, was a very physically attractive girl and that was the end of it. And that, folks, is why I love Kevin dearly and look forward to spending the rest of my career making films with him. The aforementioned actor ended up on our wish list for a different role, but that scolding I got from Kevin will stay with me for a long time. I don't know how many times either I or my representation have gone to bat for me similarly, but I never expected to have someone go to bat for me like that against... myself.

My point (and I do have one) is this: when there is a root and the excess flesh is a wall, losing weight is like an involuntary burlesque act. As you slowly peel off layers, you expose yourself more and more and its scary because the exposure is involuntary. I'm now at a point where I've lost enough weight that its noticeable and I get comments, usually positive, and encouragement. I'm also starting to slide in my diet. I wasn't sure why until I watched "But I'm a Cheerleader." I need to find my root, the multi-headed monster that says, "You know, you get plenty of action and you relish the sassy character roles you play- born a fat chick, die a fat chick, Girl!" Its frustrating to be passed over for roles and by men because of my weight, but its also a handy security blanket of a catch-all excuse for any and all rejection that my inner 4 year old is panicking at the thought of being taken away from her. I'm working on it, though, and while I was unable to save the princess in Super Mario Brothers, I'm confident I'm going to slay the multi-headed monster that is sabotaging my weight loss efforts. I refuse to let my life right now be an involuntary burlesque act- at the very least, its going to be a voluntary burlesque act.