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So now all the people out there looking to get a peek at a fully armed and operational French ding- dong without having to frequent their neighborhood pleasure palace can rush out and grab this short, tart French film about the loss of innocence and the discreet dance of sexual pleasure and rewind and pause to their heart’s content. Yay.

But in addition to Fat Girl’s plainly presented peckers (I couldn’t resist), director Catherine Breillat’s myopically intimate picture about a chubby young girl and her sister’s dive into the wildly enjoyable void of sexual proclivity has one hell of a mean streak to it. What seems at first like an honest, intelligent and straightforward look at the nature of youthful femininity in the modern world turns out to be a crushing example of how life can step in and turn a character-building situation into a nightmare beyond nightmares.

In fact, this is what ties this film to the pier and keeps it from the house party on the lake. It might be a bit unfair to compare Fat Girl with Vincent Gallo’s recent (and similarly laid-bare) The Brown Bunny, but the similarities are readily apparent: Both are about lonely people struggling to find worth in a romantically (and sexually) disproportionate world and each film ends with a grotesquely graphic look at the realities of the carnal world. Everybody and their mothers have heard about Chloe Sevigny’s mouthful at the end of Gallo’s outlandish picture, but even though there’s nothing distinctly X-rated about Fat Girl’s last few minutes, its implications are similarly severe and difficult to digest.

Regardless of how plainly nudity or fornication is displayed in both films, though, these notorious codas stamp on a distinct and narrative ending to their respective films that forces them to lose some of their power. For its first hour and ten minutes, Fat Girl is inconspicuous, astute and revelatory, but by the time its out-of-left-field final reel comes around, its heart is shattered. As we watch young lovers discuss whether or not to ’go all the way’ for what seems like an eternity toward the center of the film, we as audience members get the feeling that we’re not supposed to be present in the room.

This kind of intimacy between lovers is something that is still sequestered to bedrooms behind closed doors: The frankness, naivete and almost inaudible cooing that goes on between our two characters is singular and unique. It’s been a long time since bedroom talk sounded this real. But – and I’ll try not to give away the twist of the film’s ending – the way Fat Girl turns around and smacks its audience with a decidedly fictional epilogue really ruins it. Even the film’s alternate ending – which is shown in part during the making-of documentary featured on this DVD edition – makes more of an impact by returning the picture to its natural introspection before letting credits roll.

The Brown Bunny had the same problem: The reality of that film is that the really exciting part is Gallo’s journey through the film’s first ¾. By the time Chloe shows up, her presence on screen officially reminds us that we’re watching another movie with another story to finish. It’s to their credit that The Brown Bunny and Fat Girl have highlights that are distinctly memorable, but their finales screw the pooch (insert sex joke here).

The silver lining with Fat Girl, at least, is that the film was released almost four years ago and has gone without an American distributor for a dangerously long time, so for those few Breillat fans out there, this Criterion DVD will at the very least allow you to feast your eyes on Fat Girl’s bizarre playground.

But for those of you just out for a quick thrill, I’ll help you out: Full-frontal female nudity and its corresponding boner show up around 22 minutes into the movie. Enjoy.

Video: How does the disc look?

Fat Girl is presented in its original 1.85:1 Anamorphic widescreen format and it looks great. Black levels are consistently strong, color saturation and contrast are lovingly and specifically maintained, and line quality is razor-sharp. Some flesh tones are a bit muddy in outdoor scenes, and some of the more tan/pink hues are less confined than more saturated ones, but all in all, this one is a fantastic transfer.

Audio: How does the disc sound?

Wow. Presented in both Dolby 5.1 Surround and with a DTS mix, Fat Girl’s presentation on this Criterion disc proves that just because you’re a small, character-driven film doesn’t mean your soundtrack is boring. Dialogue is clear as glass, surround effects are lushly and spatially utilized to their utmost fashion, and the film’s music tracks are laid in with grace and excellent apportionment of dynamic range. The DTS mix is even more revelatory – high- and low-ends especially are given a robust firmness that makes the delicate sonic environments concocted in the film that much more prescient. Excellent.

Also included are English subtitles.

Supplements: What goodies are there?

First up is a short documentary on the making of Fat Girl: At five minutes, it doesn’t really dive deep into the construction of the film, but it’s still a step up from the usual EPK gloss- over that typically gets included in DVD editions. Then we have two interviews with Catherine Breillat totaling about twenty minutes: One is a simple sit-down interview, the other was recorded at the 2001 Berlin Film Festival. Intriguing.

Also included are the French and American theatrical trailers for the film.

DVD-ROM Features: What happens when you pop your disc into your PC?

NO DVD-ROM features have been included.

Parting Thoughts: