Thin Within
Alicia ‘Plum’ Kettle is an overweight young white woman in Brooklyn, plodding heavily through her unhappy present while keeping her inner life afloat with dreams of a thinner future. While the imaginary Alicia struts sveltely in a perfect red dress, the real-life Plum (Joy Nash), clad invariably in shapeless black, moves in a ceaseless loop between her friend Steven’s coffee shop, her ‘sad apartment’ and waistwatchers’ meetings led by an annoying skinny woman who calls eating a ‘bad habit’.
Dietland is at its painful best when depicting what life
as a fat person can feel like: the casual rudeness, the non-stop judgement, the angst about body image engulfing all aspects of selfhood. Obesity isn’t just Plum’s greatest stumbling block, it’s the sole subject of her aspirations. All other goals—career, love-life, just life-life—are placed on hold while she saves for a gastric band surgery to free her ‘thin person within’.
Like the 2015 Sarai Walker novel it’s based on, the series refuses to offer psychological reasons for fatness. “One of the things I push back against in Dietland,” Walker said in 2016, “is that fat is an outer representation of some kind of inner trauma.” Instead, it looks outwards, placing its heroine in the midst of a multi-pronged female fightback against constricting beauty standards.
Plum’s job is answering sad letters that teenage girls address to Kitty Montgomery (Julianna Margulies), manager-editor of teen zine Daisy Chain. Plum’s replies catch the attention of Julia (Tamara Tunie), who wants to subvert ‘the dissatisfaction industrial complex’ from inside the belly of the beast: the ‘Beauty Closet’ she runs in Daisy Chain’s basement. Initiated into an anti-diet self-realisation programme by the philanthropist daughter of a dead diet guru, Plum goes off anti-depressants to find herself hallucinating about sex with a man-tiger. Meanwhile, a vigilante group called Jennifer is murdering rapists, while targeting Fashion Week because it ‘fosters rape culture’.
If that sounds like a lot, it is. Dietland has many things going for it—a heroine on the cusp of transformation, engaging feminist politics, striking women characters—but it also has too much going on. The constant segues from its bitchy Devil Wears Prada tenor—into loopy animation, lush NatGeo-inspired fantasy, violent masked murders—can feel choppy. Plum’s unusual path, though, might successfully cut a wide swathe through the stock gender tropes of pop culture.
Dietland is at its painful best when depicting what life as a fat person can feel like