The Chubby Guy Gets the Girl in "The Invention of Lying"

The chubby guys are on a roll, and it's not down a hill.  Last week I watched The Invention of Lying, Ricky Gervais' comedy about a world in which lying doesn't exist.  While I love the idea, this was not my favorite movie.  In fact, the more I think about it, the more I'm disappointed in TIoL. My expectations were high, and with several of my favorite actors, it had a lot of potential: Ricky Gervais (funny), Tina Fey (strong female), and Rob Lowe (hot). Plus, I can almost never resist a high concept like those of The Truman Show, Groundhog Day, and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.  The thing about alternate universes, though, is that there have to be rules, and they mustn’t be broken.  TIoL is inconsistent in its own universe, and as a result, falls flat.  Two hours later, I was left thinking about what could have been in what was ultimately a fantasy movie for the slightly-below-average male, much like, but not quite as terrible as, Knocked Up or (Ugh) Forgetting Sarah Marshall.

The movie started out strong enough.  Establishing the world was fun.  Not only do people not lie, but they let out every thought, no matter how insulting to others. (While I question this interpretation of truthfulness, I recognize that an author is free to create the rules in their own alternate universe.)  For example, when meeting him for a blind date, Jennifer Garner's character, Anna, tells Mark (Gervais) that she's disappointed in his looks.  He tells her he feels awkward for showing up early.  This whole date could have been much more charming if we were rooting for Anna and Mark to get together.  I didn't really want them to get together, though, because much like Anna states several times, she's way out of his league. Specifically, she makes more money and she’s more attractive. And let’s be honest, she’s significantly more attractive than Gervais.

The not-too-attractive guy getting the totally hot girl feels like a trend in movies, and it’s a problem. While many real couples certainly have a more attractive half—and I definitely applaud the use of average-looking characters—it’s bothersome that in films, the less attractive partner is almost never the woman. In fact, average or overweight women rarely appear on the big screen. This sends a message that appearances carry a heavier weight (no pun intended) for woman than they do for men.

Film is often an escape where the viewer imagines themselves as, or empathizes with the hero. Of course, the hero is typically a man, and while the female viewer can often connect with the male character, she is also drawn to, or imagining herself in the role of the female lead. In this case, the female viewer does not feel empowered or as though she’s fulfilling some sort of fantasy because none of us are really dying to sleep with a pudgy, lying guy. While we are left feeling a sense of “If Garner gets him, who does that leave me with?” the male viewer is feeling a false sense of empowerment. He perhaps more attractive than Gervais, and feeling as though he too could snag any woman he likes. If Gervais can get Garner, who knows what he can do. A movie making a viewer feel falsely empowered in this way is a common form of scopophilic pleasure, but it's skewed to the pleasure of the male.

This brings us to another strange fantasy being played out here: Mark gets dangerously close to raping a woman.  When he first discovers lying, and realizes he's the only one who can grasp the concept, he tells an attractive businesswoman on the street that the world will end if they don't have sex right then.  This is definitely a would-be rape, because the woman believed her life was threatened if she didn't have sex with Mark.  He gets her to a motel room, then his conscience gets the best of him.

Even if we go beyond superficiality, there still isn't much chemistry between Mark and Anna.  It's unclear why he loves her, and we never really learn who Anna is.  We know she wants children, and she's looking for a good genetic match; she doesn’t want “little fat kids with snub noses.”  Fair enough, but it’s still unclear why she doesn’t have any relationships other than one with her mother.  The question, of course, is whether or not relationships and love exist without lies.  I’d argue that love does exist (in this world), based on clues we can gather from a pair of recurring extras.  When Mark first learns he can lie, he approaches the couple who are arguing, and whispers something to them (presumably, "you’re going to get married and be happy" or something like that) and they suddenly put their arms around each other. This shot is part of a montage to show how Mark uses his newfound power.

Now, I'm going to go ahead and spoil the end.  The last scene of the movie shows a pregnant Anna serving dinner to Mark and their fat, snub-nosed son.  Dinner looks terrible, but the guys tell her it's delicious.  When she turns away, they give each other a knowing thumbs-up.  Does cooking for and serving your chubby/unattractive/lying family while pregnant sound like fun?  Not really.  This movie is again constructed from the male perspective, and while this in and of itself isn’t problematic, Anna’s undesirable situation is, because, well, I want the woman to be in a good place at the end.

I had conflicting feelings about this film because it did pose some interesting questions, such as those relating to the role lying plays in our lives and relationships—and how in a lot of ways it helps us keep our sanity. About midway through the film, too, Mark accidentally invents religion, a ballsy suggestion in our Christian nation that religion can only exist simultaneously with lying. While I don’t usually give audacity points...that was not bad.  But I'll leave that for another day.  In any case, The Invention of Lying is an interesting movie, but not kind enough to women to receive my approval.