I Feel Pretty Parent Guide

Writer/directors Abby Kohn and Marc Silverstein set out with a sense of determination to have I Feel Pretty change viewers’ perspective about what “pretty” really means. Yet despite these good intentions, the movie fails to convince us that the definition of beauty is about more than outward appearances.

Renee Bennett (Amy Schumer) is sure every disappointing aspect of her life is attributable to her dowdy persona. Even the dingy office where she fulfills online orders for an upscale cosmetic company represents her negative self-image. She’s positive no one would want to date, hire or even make small talk with her because she looks so disgusting.

Then a magical hit-to-the-head occurs, and changes everything.

Rather than awakening with a concussion, Renee looks at herself in the mirror and suddenly sees a different woman: one who looks great, holds her head up high and has confidence in every move. In reality her appearance hasn’t changed one bit, but how she sees herself has completely turned around.

Augmenting her fresh attitude with a miniskirt and heels (which aren’t necessarily flattering), Renee rockets up the corporate ladder and within what feels like a couple days, has moved from the online dungeon to VP of a new line of discount make-up targeting “ordinary” women. Soon the company’s CEO, Avery (Michelle Williams), and founder Lily (Laruen Hutton), neither of whom have ever darkened the doors of a Target store, are basing business decisions on Renee’s every word.

By this point the film has us accepting Renee’s appeal is just as much about her self-assurance as it is about her somewhat revealing wardrobe. To support that idea, the script enlists Ethan (Rory Scovel), one of the meekest male characters ever to grace a movie screen. Recently picked-up by Renee, he falls for the forward female because she is so comfortable within her own skin.

And that’s when the portrayal of Renee—and the moral message—goes off the rails. Entering a bikini contest where she seductively struts her stuff, Renee proves her definition of comeliness is sex appeal. In a later scene her self-centeredness is depicted when she’s more obsessed with her own image in the mirror during sex than connecting with her partner. All the while, we the viewers, laugh at her expense.

And that’s when the hypocrisy of the plot becomes the most evident. The movie derives its humor from watching Renee make a fool of herself because of her mistaken self-image. If the storyline doesn’t present her as actually pretty, why are we supposed to think she is? Meanwhile, the more beautiful Renee believes she is, the more ugly her personality becomes. Again, what redeeming qualities should the audience see in that? Even more ridiculous is the turning point when Renee discovers the real truth. It should have been the most powerful moment of the film, yet instead becomes an unconvincing soapbox lecture.

The inclusion of frequent profanities and sexual discussion, along with the aforementioned sex scene, doesn’t help to make this film any more endearing. Railroading us with too many speeches about what we should be learning, as opposed to presenting an authentic example, I Feel Pretty succumbs to Western society’s continued siren call that beauty is only skin deep.

About author

Donna Gustafson

Donna Gustafson has been involved with her husband Rod's work since the beginning. Handling many of the behind-the-scenes tasks, she also creates preview pages for up-coming movies, acts as managing editor and occasionally writes reviews.