A side order of muckraking

If it’s true that we are what we eat, then for one unappetizing month last summer filmmaker Morgan Spurlock was a mountain of lard. Not just any lard, mind you, but McDonald’s lard -- a trembling, nauseated, flatulent mountain of beef slathered with special sauce, squeezed between sesame-seed buns, topped off with countless fries and washed down with gallons of sugared soda. In his bouncy, oft-entertaining documentary “Super Size Me,” Spurlock reveals how and why a seemingly rational individual would engage in such extreme eating, becoming, in essence, the embodiment of McLard.

Suffice it to say his adventures in fast food weren’t to catch girls. In addition to the aforementioned intestinal storms, Spurlock endured difficulties with sex after chowing down on McDonald’s -- and only McDonald’s -- for a month. But that’s getting ahead of the story. In July 2003, Spurlock embarked on a one-month experiment to eat only food he could purchase at the famous fast-food emporium. His stated goal was to discover the answer to the question that plagues more than half of America: Why are we so fat? Year after year, overweight Americans seek the answer to that question in innumerable diets, books and weight-loss groups, often with little understanding of what Spurlock knew from the start of his journey: that the answer usually lies right in front of them, nestled inside its disposable wrapping.

Spurlock’s other, unstated goal with “Super Size Me” was, in all likelihood, to make a movie that would put him on the media map. In this he’s succeeded estimably. Since its premiere at the Sundance Film Festival in January, the documentary has earned considerable press attention and may have -- in grand muckraking tradition -- figured into McDonald’s recent decision to dispense with its Super Size portions, save during promotions. Doubtless two lawsuits brought against the company, which accused the company of health risks not dissimilar to those in Big Tobacco suits, played some part in the decision. The lawsuits were thrown out of court last year, but McDonald’s and other fast-food purveyors have seen the writing on the wall and are frantically trying to figure out how Americans can have their junk food and waistlines too.

With time and new technologies, fast food may no longer represent a heart attack on a Styrofoam plate. From the evidence of Spurlock’s 30-day gorge, though, that day isn’t here yet. It would spoil some of the film’s drama to divulge the specific consequences of an exclusive McDonald’s diet. Given that Spurlock also decided to mimic the average American’s limited physical activity during his fast-food spree, his weight gain was assured. But what no one foresaw -- including the doctors tapped to keep track of the filmmaker’s health during this odyssey in overeating -- was the damage he did to the inside of his body. The look on one doctor’s face as he reads the results of Spurlock’s blood work might be enough to keep any rational person off McLard for good.

But the consumption of food isn’t always rational, as anyone who’s ever wrestled with weight gain (or loss) knows. Spurlock, who looks very fit at the start of his film, doesn’t come off as a guy who’s ever sweated over a spare tire unless it involved a car. That might not matter in a typical documentary, but because of the intensely personal nature of this documentary -- the filmmaker’s body is, de facto, as much the subject as McDonald’s -- it does. Spurlock comes to this project with reams of research, much of it familiar to observant dieters and media consumers, but he’s sorely lacking in compassion. That’s particularly evident with his repeated use of images of morbidly obese people -- their faces blurred as if they were criminals -- a gambit that ends up being less instructive than needlessly heartless.

Spurlock does talk to some fat people, including one unbearably sad teenage girl clinging to the inspirational words of Subway flack Jared Fogle, who claims to have lost weight eating at the fast-food chain. I wish Spurlock had talked to more. It would have put a face to all that anonymous flesh and given the film both humanity and greater complexity. “Super Size Me” packs a lot of good information, witty visual aids and expert testimonials into its fast 96 minutes, and all the bad eating certainly makes for compelling if at times repugnant viewing. But the film ends up too short and, as a consequence, frustratingly glib. Unlike Eric Schlosser, for instance, who tackles the larger political and social implications of our junk-food culture in his book “Fast Food Nation,” Spurlock is happy just to eat and run.

*

‘Super Size Me’

MPAA rating: Unrated

Times guidelines: Rectal exam, gorging, disgorging

A Roadside Attractions and Samuel Goldwyn Films release. Director, writer Morgan Spurlock. Producers Morgan Spurlock, the Con. Director of photography Scott Ambrozy. Editors Stela Gueorguieva, Julie “Bob” Lombardi. Sound design Hans ten Broeke. Art direction/animations Joe the Artist. Original music Steve Horowitz, Michael Parrish. Running time: 1 hour, 36 minutes.

In selected theaters.