Reviews | ‘Survival of the Thickest’: Finally, a worthy antidote to ‘Sex and the City’

A still from the Netflix series 'Survival of the Thickest'.

Based on a book of essays by actress Michelle Buteau, Netflix’s new rom-com series Survival of the Thickest, adapted by Buteau and Danielle Sanchez-Witzel, makes body positivity fun and breezy.

Bauteau has had some impressive stints as an actor—the recent memorable ones being her roles in Definitely Be My Maybe and Marry Me, both movies. Buteau hosted the reality TV series The Circle, powering it with her wit. Here, she is up front and centre as actor, writer and producer, in the vein of Ali Wong, of the eight-episode series about body image, and how it can dictate every aspect of a woman’s life—ironically, when she is in her prime.

We meet Mavis Beaumont, a fashion stylist who dreams of dressing women with larger bodies so they can be their most confident selves, when her long-term relationship with an influential fashion photographer (Taylor Selé) is ending. Child of Caribbean immigrants who grew up in the tri-state area, Mavis has all the qualities of a second-generation immigrant: Hardworking, at odds with her traditional parents and embodying crazy amounts of anxiety for what she is.

(From left) Michelle Buteau as Mavis and Taylor Sele as Jacque in 'Survival of the Thickest' (Photo: Vanessa Clifton/Netflix)

The break-up forces Mavis to self-launch; the obstacles on the way is the drama. Renting a shared, run-down Brooklyn apartment, she finds work with a former supermodel which the series defines with two accents: misplaced ego and bad behaviour. Mavis has two friends she leans on: Khalil (Tone Bell), a recovering philanderer attempting his first real relationship, and Marley (Tasha Smith), a corporate climber whose professional confidence hides her sexual and creative insecurities. When an Italian hunk (Marouane Zotti) sweeps her off her feet and her clientele expands, Mavis has touch decisions to make.

Survival of the Thickest has stock characters and situations, but Bateau’s screen presence and the ease with which she embodies the character’s dichotomies, impulses and lived-in wisdom, make the series a winner. Chick flicks about fashionistas have a formidable predecessor — the monumentally popular Sex and the City, which continues now as the chronically insipid And Just Like That. Survival of the Fittest is galaxies apart from Sex and the City. The woke writing amps up the subaltern feel.

(From left) Anthony Michael Lopez as Bruce, Michelle Buteau as Mavis and Garcelle Beauvais as Natasha in 'Survival of the Thickest'. (Image courtesy Netflix)

Mavis’s life mandate: “Plus-sized women are always told to shrink. …I just really wanted to take beautiful kings and queens and noxnbinary royalty and just showcase them in beautiful bright bold colours in the light. Because they haven’t let the world shame them into shrinking. …If I dress you, there is no corset.”

Mavis’s love of her bestie: “You are like a well-made bra, honey. You are supportive and uplifting, and your positive affirmations are so dope.” Dope, that is.

(From left) Michelle Buteau as Mavis and Tone Bell as Khalil in 'Survival of the Thickest'. (Photo: Vanessa Clifton/Netflix)

The setting is mostly the New York of Brooklyn, and the non-Manhattanite air that Mavis inhabits gives the series its characters and colours—and a shade of downbeat realism. The humour has many droll moments, which, some moments of grand farce punctuate. The protagonist even farts. The short episodes are racy. For a weekend chick-flick watch, Survival of the Fittest is perfect. And yes, let’s take this Maive-ism with utmost seriousness: “Empowered women, empower women."