Film Inquiry

DUMPLIN’: Pure, Dolly Parton-flavoured Comfort Food

Dumplin' (2018) - source: Netflix

Though I appear to be amongst the handful who believe directorial debut, Step Up had a little more to offer than some of its repudiations have suggested, having come from the sorely undercooked double-whammy that was The Guilt Trip and Hot Pursuit, it’s clear that Anne Fletcher has long been in need of a film like Dumplin’.

Reveling in the warm, sunshiny and unmistakeable boughs of Texas, Dumplin’ is effectively a cuddle in a movie, whose core messages about beauty, weight and ‘fitting in’ – oh-so thankfully – never come off as trite.

Warm, Funny and Very, Very Texan

‘Dumplin”, it transpires early on, is the well-meant nickname afforded Willowdean Dickson (Danielle Macdonald); the teenage daughter of the revered Rosie (Jennifer Aniston), who after winning local fame as the winner of the ‘Miss Teen Blue Bonnet’ beauty pageant back in ‘91, is now responsible for training up the latest scattering of beauty queen hopefuls desperate for a chance to be crowned the newest embodiment of southern perfection.

DUMPLIN': Pure, Dolly Parton-flavoured Comfort Food
source: Netflix

Described in the official synopsis as ‘plus-size’, and with very little interest in the world of fastidious dieting and solitary aerobics upon which her mother thrives, Willowdean has always felt closer to her aunt, Lucy (Hilliary Begley), with whom she shares a mutual passion for Dolly Parton. Through glimmering, grainy memory fragments that feel warmly like home-movies, we see the pair consuming everything from ‘Dumb Blonde’ to ‘Jolene’, and delighting in their own private (and beautifully nerdy) ‘Dolly Parties’. It’s clear that Lucy’s respect for Dolly’s carefree attitude has done a lot to inform Willowdean’s worldview; for her, the pageant is a sickly parade for the modest feminine ideal driving normative assumptions of beauty. So she steers clear, preferring to rag on it from afar with best friend, Ellen (Odeya Rush). All while jamming out to ‘9 to 5’.

When Lucy passes away, Willowdean finds herself suddenly far less invincible to societal expectations. She becomes more aware of her strained relationship with her mother; whose insistence upon calling her ‘Dumplin’’ unwittingly invite crude comments from her fellow classmates about her weight. With submissions for Miss Teen Blue Bonnet coming up once more, the once-derided ideals of body image begin to dig uncomfortably into Willowdean’s sides – and it’s all the more intensified by the fact she’s really, really starting to like the burger-flipper she works with at a local food joint, ‘Bo’.

In some ways, it’s reminiscent of Love, Simon, in that its entirely predictable structure serves the film’s purpose as a mainstream teen movie that just happens to feature a fat protagonist. But in many more, it calls back to Hairspray. Willowdean discovers that even Aunt Lucy had her insecurities, and had signed up for the 1991 beauty pageant, but didn’t for fear of standing out amid a cast of waif-thin supermodel types. With more than a sideways glance at Hairspray, Willowdean decides to sign up for the pageant, train alongside fellow beauty-queen contestants and appear on stage in an empowered statement that “Every body is a swimsuit body.”

source: Netflix

What she isn’t counting on, however, is how much traction her “protest in heels” gains amongst the other misfits at her school, including the sheltered Milly Mitchellchuck (Maddie Baillio maintains a kind of Tracy-Turnblad-meets-the entirety of the Sister Act cast-level of optimism throughout) and the punky Hannah (Bex Taylor-Klaus), whose entry for the pageant’s talent segment consists of an impassioned one-liner about bringing down the patriarchy, followed by a stalwart thumbs-up. It sounds as if all might last about two seconds before running out of steam, but thanks to Kristen Hahn’s snappily adapted screenplay (from Julie Murphy’s 2015 novel), it’s a pleasure to watch the ease with which Dumplin’ glides between its protagonist’s interior conflicts and controlled, swiftly-executed buddy comedy.

Moments of Affirmation Place Fletcher’s Film a Step Above Average Teen Flick

The result is an untaxing, warmhearted affirmation of self-love, which knowingly turns pageantry’s twiggy, diet-heavy ideology on its head through the refuge Willlowdean finds in Dolly Parton. Expected belters like ‘Dumb Blonde’, ‘9 to 5’ and ‘Jolene’ serve as guiding lights for Willowdean and Co. as they assemble their own pageant ‘acts’, leading them into new worlds, and new friendships with those who similarly fall outside conventional beauty standards.

One lovely montage sequence sees the trio getting performance advice from three local drag queens, who mentor them in the sort of stylish, suggestive dance moves that’d have Miss Blue Bonnet ‘91 blushing into next week. Though some early scenes seem to get by purely on Dolly charm, the singer quickly becomes a distant role model in Willowdean’s attempt to reconnect with her aunt, assembling her own band of nonconformists who make her feel as confident, indestructible and gosh-darn beautiful as Lucy did.

source: Netflix

Naturally, the search also requires the protagonist to come to terms with the conflicting feelings about her body and self-worth that come as the result of being the daughter of a former beauty icon; conflicts that feel sensitively handled, despite feeling slightly glossed over by the film’s overarching sweetness. While Willowdean wants to be valued, desired and respected as much as her twiggy fellow contestants, she’s instantly suspicious when Bo starts to like her back; in one moving scene imploring him to explain just what he sees in her, compared to the other, slimmer girls. Some might take an issue with just how easily worked out these conflicts transpire to be, but despite the up-the-revolution-lite type attitude displayed by the central girls, conflict in Dumplin’ serves only to confirm its purpose as a piece of feel-good fluff.

There are undoubtedly things this white, male if anything rather pint-sized writer couldn’t take the liberty of championing as uplifting moments of minority representation. So I should clarify that Dumplin’ succeeds predominantly as a funny, good-natured story about (it’s about time for a Dolly quote) finding out who you are, and “doing it on purpose.” Seeing Milly’s initially disapproving mother’s face light up as she watches her daughter sing her heart out on stage, or when Willowdean’s uncompromising desire to live her life according to her own ideals enables the two to speak candidly about weight, pressure and that notorious nickname, Dumplin’ surpasses average teen flick status to something very nearly as affirmative as School of Rock, or indeed Love, Simon.

Conclusion: Dumplin’

Dumplin’ isn’t strictly a movie for people who don’t conform to conventional beauty standards. In taking aim at those standards themselves, Fletcher’s film proffers the much more general message that they don’t (and shouldn’t) dictate what is and is not deemed beautiful, and for that, it leaves with a warm appraisal of the many ways in which beauty is expressed and felt. As if to reject beauty’s notoriously food-phobic reputation once and for all, Dumplin’ is pure visual comfort food.

Dumplin’ was released on Netflix in the U.S and the U.K on December 7, 2018. 

What did you think of Dumplin’? Was Willowdean’s search for self-love as affirmative for you? Share your thoughts in the comments!

 

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