I am in the fourth month of a complete relapse of my diet and exercise plan. Meaning that I’ve been off exercise for as long as I’ve b...
I am in the fourth month of a complete relapse of my diet and exercise plan. Meaning that I’ve been off exercise for as long as I’ve been on it. And ladies and gents, you best believe it’s been a glorious foodie renaissance. I’m talking cheesesteaks, fried chicken, tandoori, barbecue ribs, french fries, mac and cheese, chimichangas, cookies, ice cream, and so on. I’ve obliterated my kitchen every weekend, making Italian dishes that would give Rao’s a run for their money. I ate In-N-Out two nights in a row at Anime Expo, and after nomming down on those big ol’ 4×4 animal-style burgers, I still contend that Five Guys is better. Sorry folks, I cannot lie to you.
I’ve noticed two things: 1) I haven’t gained all my weight back, which hopefully dispels the myth of “a minute on the lips” for me, and 2) none of this glorious gluttony makes Plus-Sized Elf any better.
The one nice thing I will say here is that Plus-Sized Elf doesn’t go too overboard with its crass nature. Having known virtually nothing going into the show, I expected its shallow fat humor to be on the level of mid-career Adam Sandler movies. It approaches that territory but never fully reaches it–characters hurl insults at each other like “fatso,” and “chubbo,” and “dump truck.” Of course, the fact that nobody can adequately keep to their diet and exercise regimen is made into a recurring gag. Yet these jokes and jabs are lazily written for me; I was too busy rolling my eyes to be properly offended. The bigger drawback comes with the fact that Plus-Sized Elf makes fun of its characters for their weight yet can’t resist showing them lewd and sexy–it’s even implied early on that our main character finds thickness an attractive quality.
On a technical level, this all makes sense. Considering that this is adapted from an ecchi manga, there must be some glamour in showing all that cake, right? (And no, I’m not talking about dessert here.) But juxtaposed with jokes made at the expense of people’s weight, the messaging here seems muddled. Is this supposed to be the show’s way of displaying body positivity? You decide.
So it’s good that the show isn’t terribly toxic, but simultaneously, as a fan of tasteless comedy, it’s disappointing to have nothing that makes me chuckle even slightly. If you devote an entire series to such an absurd concept, at least follow through with it. A lot of this, I think, has to do with the first batch of episodes following the same formula: first, a character is introduced, then is followed by some stale dialogue about their mythical nature and defining trait (an orc who loves beer, a lycanthrope who begs for treats, a mermaid who drinks potions to grow legs, whatever). A few gags pass, and then a few quips about them being fat are shouted into the ether. Rinse, repeat.
The show’s final half becomes less redundant but doesn’t get any funnier. A bit devoted to a magic potion designed to make its drinker lose weight but instead de-ages them is devoid of humor unless you consider “y’all ever watch Detective Conan” to be something of substance. Speaking of unnecessary references, the beach episode has a kraken saying that he’s done squidding around, and it made me wish I was watching Squid Girl instead. Making matters worse is how paper-thin and practically static the animation is here. You’d think that in a series where physicality is a recurring motif, the animation would focus on, you know, being more physical and moving with its comedy. I didn’t expect the exercising bits to be anything amazing, but they are so brief and stiff here that it’s a wonder they exist at all. Similarly, the eighth episode is practically devoted to a day of yoga. What could have been a nice little slice-of-life episode is rendered boring by its stale animation.
The show decides to inject some drama into its final two main episodes by having Elfuda’s aunt enter the fray to lambast Naoe for keeping her niece fat. I suppose this is a last-second attempt to instill some chemistry between Elfuda and Naoe, but it feels so forced. The aunt helps Elfuda lose weight, only to gain weight herself, and then right after Elfuda finally reaches her goal, she gains all the weight back. Why is there an unnecessary arc that doesn’t add much to the story? But then again, there wasn’t much of a story.
At 12 short episodes plus two special episodes, the show is roughly 170 minutes long. Want a better use of 170 minutes? Listen to AC/DC’s Whole Lotta Rosie 32 times. Not only is that riff electrifying as Hell, it’s a much greater and more effective ode to the plus-sized and body-positive than Plus-Sized Elf ever will be.
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