I wouldn’t watch this movie with a gun at my back and a knife at my throat. It’s allegedly half-decent or better than that, but the reason it was made is because the American landscape is swarming with tens of millions of teenage Jabbas right now, and an idea has developed among sensitive filmmakers that fat kids are a downtrodden class, unfairly mocked and pushed around, and that they need special hugs and unqualified acceptance.
There’s only one effective response to morbidly obese kids, and that’s to go all R. Lee Ermey on their ass. Don’t hug them and pat them on the back and tell them they’re okay. Tell them to start working out and eating right or prepare for a miserable life and an early death. Because that’s the truth of it.
