THE WHALE

Well, I feel emotionally ill.

I’ve always loved my time thinking and watching films made by Darren Aronofsky. I find his films dark and his stories emotionally complex, with the majority of the runtime of each having the core of the story as a centrepiece, hardly straying from the screen for very long. Your engagement with his films will usually be escalated early on by a morbid or dangerous sense of curiosity, something you are not punished for having though the presence of a mirror to see the viewer in the story is always readily available. The Whale is no different in this regard. It is dark and handles a lot of story threads that all intersect at the core of what is being shown. 

It’s a small and contained drama, it’s 1.33:1 (4:3) aspect ratio tries to convince you of that as the film opens, but it’s wider and more politically active framing has it standout within Aronofsky’s filmography. Not to say Aronofsky’s films are not usually political because some are: The Wrestler (2008) even touches upon similar societal downfalls as The Whale, including comments on health care, sexually-charged “taboos”, and a struggling father-daughter relationship; Requiem for a Dream (2000) is political with its insights on drug distribution, the social disparity between pharmaceutical prescriptions and street dealing, and the role drugs play for the wealthy. What sets The Whale apart is the explicit inclusion of politics in the story; it is shown as news on the TV and glazed over in the dialogue. The politics around social care and religious groups are the very thing that set the events of the film in motion, and therefore frame its exploration of the characters that become somewhat trapped by the politics of the outside world in the cramped apartment the film is based. 

The other key thing which stands out in The Whale - when looking at it in the context of Aronofsky’s other work - is the approach of the drama itself. The melodramatic quality to the writing; long monologues present fulfilling pictures of a characters’ states of mind almost scene-by-scene, the use of a single location calls for a comparison to the modern stage play that the story is based with the blocking in particular retaining more than a hint of theatrics, and the myriad of items that have dramatic significance to characters and the story bring heavy doses of symbolism that even the characters seem to bring attention to. The combination of these and more could not be seen in any other of Aronofsky’s films except his previous fictional outing, and my personal favourite from his oeuvre, Mother! (2017). Though, when comparing The Whale to Mother! you notice from the point-of-view of the dramatic (theatrics) that Mother! has the mobility in its huge cast of evocative characters to help tell the story and does not always need to rely on its dialogue (which is overall more aloof) to help present its core concepts. The Whale does not have such luxury when it comes to its central characters. If it did, then it would be missing its own point entirely. Because of this, the drama comes mainly contained in the living room of a small apartment (not throughout a luxurious and grand home as in Mother!); its protagonist mostly seated and only able to move around the space properly in its final half, but just barely.

It’s an important mode for the story to take and it effects all aspects of the writing. Instantly, the writing and facial expressions take precedence over movement and action. No one is drilling a hole through their skull here. We have to watch people struggle to live like everyone else without the physical or mental capacity to do so. The end result is emotionally disgusting. By that I mean it does not hold itself back or give us the grace of breath in its emotional climax. The gaps between lines are buildups to more moments to sob to and when the film comes to a close you feel ill because of all it throws at you. But that is no punishment. As to be invested in a character and to be moved by the gravity of a story should never be considered a mistreatment of an audience, especially when it’s conclusion is laid-out clearly from the start. 

All of Darren Aronofsky’s films, other than perhaps The Fountain (2006), can be seen through a single lens: that humans are animals, and we all decide to reject to see us as such. While Aronofsky matures further as a filmmaker, The Whale is a step closer for him to tell us his thesis on humanity outright. There may be less curiosity blurring the lines in future projects, as the facets of this thesis become increasingly important for us to understand, his storytelling will become more explicit as he continues to tell it.

Watched Awangarda 2 in Olsztyn, PL on January 1st 2023. This piece was written on January 2nd 2023.