The Whale (2022)

I don’t think I can ever remember watching a film with such an amount of trepidation, both for its outcome and the discomfort exhibited by the characters in the story. There was a lot of distance, factually and metaphorically, between the participants (which might have been because of COVID-19). But the symbolism was unmistakable: Charlie is a recluse, literally the whale of the story, who allows some people to get closer to him, but mainly because he knows he’s dying and wants to make things right with his daughter, Ellie, whom he abandoned nine years previously when she was only eight.

I can sympathize. The single setting of his apartment is his goldfish bowl. Even the pizza delivery guy wants to know if he’s alright. Obviously, he’s not, but he doesn’t want sympathy, so he apologizes a lot.

Brendan Fraser deserved his Oscar. If you’re going to come back from Hollywood obscurity, this is the way to do it. But it’s an uncomfortable ride (lasting just 5 days in the story), and a hard battle to win, but worth every minute, especially the ending.