At the heart of the British premier of Neil LaBute’s 2005 play is a simple idea - explore casual prejudice using a man and his fat girlfriend, but on the understanding this is all a metaphor for racism, disabled-ism, any ism you can think of.
At the same time it asks why is it okay for us to laugh at fatties? Well, possibly because, after seeing Helen, the overweight character around whom the play unfolds, stuff herself with excess pizza, hotdogs, you name it, it is obvious the obese could do something about their ‘condition’ - a condition that leaves friends and families worried, health services overburdened, and shortens the lives of those who are ‘other-weighted’.
That said, Fat Pig is about highlighting the fact that there is a thinking, feeling person underneath the blubber and it does this very well. Ella Smith, playing Helen, is pretty and her character funny, intelligent, caring and loving. So delicately does Smith play her, it is no surprise the sensitive Tom, Robert Webb, falls for her.
Webb too, creates a warmth around his character - while struggling with the unnecessary American accents the British cast adopts - in an otherwise impeccable West End debut. The audience wants them to succeed as a couple because they are so good together. This is fortunate. There is not enough meat on the bones of the play to stretch it through two hours, but the truth in the central relationship carries the audience.
When Carter, the manipulative, psychotic office bully, a viciously effective performance from Kris Marshall, ribs Tom about Helen and her size, the audience is quite rightly affronted. There is uncomfortable laughter. We know these people. We like these people. We can see they are in love. No one deserves to be talked about like that. In this, the play is a success.
But LaBute fails to find enough substance in the piece. While the dialogue is among his best, so naturalistic, so quick and cutting, and while casting and performances could not be bettered (accents aside) - Gavin and Stacey’s Joanna Page is gloriously bitchy as the also psychotic Jeannie - conversations are merely different takes on the same discussion - you can’t date her, she’s fat. Yes I can. It doesn’t matter.
Fat Pig, it seems, could do with being a little fatter.
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