You know what the most awkward part is about Facebook photo−stalking — other than admitting to the entire Tufts population that you actually Facebook−stalk? The answer: pressing the left key when viewing the first photo. It is that chance click that sends you soaring into yester−year, to the days of pudgy, awkward adolescence. Yeah, it's weird. I imagine that's how most of us will feel now when we pop in any of our old movies starring Jonah Hill.
In case your last copy of People magazine got lost in the mail, Jonah Hill lost a prodigious 40 pounds this summer for his upcoming film adaptation of the hit television show, "21 Jump Street" (2012). Some are applauding Hill for his newfound love−affair with salads and ellipticals; however, many feel that he shed much more than poundage. By losing weight, Jonah lost his sense of humor.
Is there a connection between corpulence and comedy? The tradition of fat comedians stretches back to characters like Falstaff in Shakespeare's Henry IV. Since then, we've had an array of comedians of all shapes and sizes. There exists the unwritten rule that every skinny character requires a fat foil. The lanky Don Quixote needed his tubby SanchoPanza, just as Dan Aykroyd needed John Belushi in "The Blues Brothers" (1980). And where would David Spade be without Chris Farley? Is it any surprise then that Jonah's breakout role paired him with the scrawny Michael Cera?
Yes, the evidence is quite strong. So strong, in fact, that many actors have gained weight for laughs. Rob McElhenny of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" recently gained over 50 pounds to make his character funnier. Other less−dedicated actors have worn what many consider to be the bane of cinematic comedy — the fat suit. A comedic crutch, the fat suit was built for the lowest common denominator. It's the equivalent of a Carlos Mencia joke — offensive in its crudeness and unoriginality. Just think of virtually every Eddie Murphy movie in the past decade. Yes, I'm looking at you, "Norbit" (2007).
So if fat means funny, how can we explain the success of people like Woody Allen, Vince Vaughn pre− "Fred Claus" (2007), Jim Carrey and Larry David? These guys don't rely on fat jokes, and with the exception of Carrey, don't aim for the broadest of comedy styles. They find those relatable or ridiculous moments of our lives — awkwardness around women in Allen's case, or just awkwardness in general for someone like David — and convey it to the audience in a clever way that makes us laugh.
So while broad comedy does support this "fat−is−funnier" paradigm, there are just as many opportunities for the rest of Hollywood. Corpulence alone might elicit a chuckle, but the laugh would be unearned. Witty writing always trumps banal physicality. To paraphrase "Mean Girls" (2004), some comedians are funny because they are fat, but no comedian is fat because they are funny. If that were true, Gabriel Iglesias would look like Mischa Barton. Someone throw that girl a Snickers bar — or a teen drama series — ASAP!
When I think back to "Superbad" (2007), the scenes with Jonah that really stand out aren't directly connected to his weight. Remember that scene where a girl drunkenly menstruates onto his jeans? Would I have laughed any less had Jonah been wearing size−32 skinny jeans from Urban Outfitters? Probably not.
Jonah's weight loss isn't that detrimental. Sure, he can't make some of the physical jokes anymore, but weren't we all kind of tired of those already? There's only so many "I'm−way−too−fat−to−get−with−anyone" jokes I can stomach.
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