Mark Reviews Movies: I FEEL PRETTY

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Review by Mark Dujsik | April 20, 2018

One mostly wants to credit I Feel Pretty for what it doesn't do wrong. The material seems like one of those weird fantasy or science-fiction stories about wish fulfillment through the process of living in a different body. Our protagonist wants, more than anything else at this point in her life, to be "undeniably beautiful." In her mind, society pretty much has dismissed her, and as a result, she basically has dismissed her own worth.

Her job has her locked away in a windowless basement, working in front of a computer screen all day. Dating is pretty much a no-go, especially when it comes to the online variety. Guys just look at the pictures. If the reality doesn't match the picture's flattering angle or filter, the disappointment on the guy's face just leads to more insecurity. If the picture is an accurate reflection, well, poor Renee (Amy Schumer) doesn't receive any offers for dates. That kind of rejection—knowing that guys are simply looking at her as she is and simply ignoring her—is, perhaps, even worse for her.

How much of this really has to do with the way Renee looks, and how much of it has to do with the fact that Renee simply has given up? Writers/directors Abby Kohn and Marc Silverstein's screenplay doesn't play it subtle with the film's point. This isn't about Renee's physical appearance. It's entirely about how she has taken the looks, the words, and the rejection of a handful of people and turned them into the way she defines herself.

Another, lesser movie would take this film's gimmick literally. Renee wishes, like so many characters in so many movies with this conceit before her, for a magical sort of change—to have beauty that no one can deny. She gets her wish, but the result is entirely in her head. Kohn and Silverstein are smart enough to keep that vision from us. Whatever it is that Renee sees when she looks in the mirror, that's between Renee and her reflection. A movie that would rather indulge in unrealistic wish fulfillment would have cast another actress for that reflection. We'd get some kind of effect that would allow us to see that other actress in the mirror, while Schumer stands in front of it.

In other words, the filmmakers would ask us to identify someone else as some sort of ideal, turning Renee into some kind of unidealistic other. That would have ruined the point of the story. It never ceases to impress how one, seemingly insignificant choice can change the course and purpose of a film. By constantly showing us how Renee, as she is, indeed is the character's ideal form, Kohn and Silverstein back up their central thesis. It's so simple, but it's vital to the film working as a call for self-acceptance, self-encouragement, and self-fulfillment.

Basically, Renee starts believing that she has physically transformed after taking a tumble off an exercise bike and hitting her head. Leaving aside the questionable issue of having a protagonist unknowingly wandering around with a traumatic brain injury, we get to see how Renee acts without the constant insecurity of feeling judged by others.

She applies for and gets a job working as the receptionist for a makeup company run by Avery LeClaire (a funny Michelle Williams), whose wispy voice serves as her own source of self-doubt. She meets a guy named Ethan (Rory Scovel) and takes the reins in the dating process. Ethan is his own bundle of anxiety, taking exercise classes that are mostly populated by women (not to hit on them but because he feels more comfortable) and feeling self-conscious about a harmless nickname that his co-workers have given him. What's refreshing in this relationship is how the screenplay subtly shifts the usual dynamic. Renee doesn't need Ethan to feel better about herself, but he definitely needs some of her newfound confidence to rub off on him.

Naturally, this is a comedy, and the one thing that Kohn and Silverstein definitely do right is in ensuring that Renee is never the butt of the jokes. A lot of that comes from Schumer's performance, which allows us to sympathize with Renee's insecure nature before the "transformation" and to admire the unwavering self-assurance that comes after it. The joke easily could be aimed at the character—essentially mocking her for believing that she's someone or something that she isn't.

Instead, it's in how her change in attitude turns her into her best self. The occasional judging faces, the people offering statements of doubt, and the perplexed expressions are always shot down, whether it's by Renee using her working-class knowledge to help Avery's new bargain line of products (It's a bit of a shame that Renee's ultimate worth is in selling people on a product line) or deciding on a whim to participate in a bikini contest.

With a different tone or even a slightly more superficial outlook, all of this easily could have gone terribly wrong. Admittedly, the film takes a step or two too many to openly state its fairly obvious message. Even so, I Feel Pretty embraces its central character for all of her faults—real, perceived, or created by having too much self-confidence—and all of the qualities that she either didn't know or had forgotten that she possessed. It's a fine message, and if the film feels as if it has to hammer that lesson home, well, maybe that's saying something about our ability to accept it.

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