The film, titled “Curve,” can be interpreted in various ways, including as “body curve,” “turn,” or “curvature.”
It begins with the beautiful and slender Uma Thurman walking down Wilshire Boulevard in Beverly Hills. She is dressed in a white pencil skirt, a sheer blouse with billowy sleeves, and a flowing white silk scarf. Passersby in Bentleys and Ferraris crane their necks to look at her. She glows, golden, her hair shimmering, and oversized sunglasses completing the look. She smiles. The camera captures several moments as if taking snapshots—Uma glowing in the sunlight with a golden halo. Uma’s smiling lips. The slit in Uma’s skirt. The turned neck of a well-groomed handsome man in a BMW convertible, looking back at Uma. And on each photo, a stamp with a single word, as if printed over the photo with a typewriter: “sexy,” “beauty,” “hot,” “come to me baby,” “m-m-m-m”…
Uma turns onto Rodeo Drive and enters Michael Kors store, where she collides with a very overweight woman, and the camera captures this moment. The photo shows a close-up of the face of the overweight woman who accidentally bumps into Uma Thurman, causing her to stumble. In the background is Uma, looking angry, disheveled, and unattractive. And the stamp reads “FAT PIG!”
The overweight woman hurries somewhere, not looking at Uma but whispering “I am sorry” and rushing off. The stamp reads “I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry!”
Uma enters the store, where the clerks rush to help her: a young woman and a young man ask if everything is okay with Mrs. Blake. She’s a regular customer. Mrs. Blake is fine, just shocked that someone dared. The young man walks away, leaving a young slender blonde woman next to Blake, who offers Uma a bottle of Evian. Uma takes it, drinks, smiles sweetly, says “thank you,” and meaningfully asks, “What did she want?” Over the frame are two photos—one of a runway with Michael Kors collection—a tall model with long legs in short shorts and a tiny jacket. The second photo is of the overweight woman as seen by Uma. (Comparison. Michael Kors doesn’t design for overweight people.)
The blonde woman smiles knowingly and answers quietly, “Gift Card.” Then, a close-up of Uma’s smiling face glowing in the sunlight, and the stamp “All Fat Pigs Must DIE.”
Next, the overweight woman is shown hurrying to a nearby garage: she gets into her car and drives to her sister’s house in Beverly Hills. It’s her niece’s birthday today, and she gives her niece a gift certificate, and the niece throws herself at her aunt, hugging and kissing her tenderly. The overweight woman embraces her sister, showing that there’s love and good relationships in this house. Then, the guests, people, everyone hugging each other emotionally and sitting down at the table to celebrate the birthday as a family.
Late evening, the overweight woman returns to her car. She is happy. She drives home, along Mulholland Drive. Magical music is playing, and suddenly she’s torn out of bliss by screeching brakes, the sound of a car crash ahead, around the bend. She slows down and quietly continues forward, seeing an overturned and already burning car. There’s a person inside. The overweight woman stops to help, realizes the person is alive. It’s a woman. She’s conscious but disoriented. The overweight woman pulls the victim out of the car, carries her to her own car, and calls 911. At that moment, the overturned car explodes. The overweight woman looks at the explosion in horror. Covered in blood, the injured woman sits in the passenger seat of the overweight woman’s car.
The overweight woman provides first aid to the injured woman, who turns out to be Uma Blake, of course. Uma is out of it, almost unconscious. She’s alive, but she has a serious wound, and despite the overweight woman’s attempts to bandage it, the bleeding won’t stop. The ambulance arrives. The overweight woman says she’s a doctor and would like to go with Uma to the nearby hospital where she works. The paramedics agree. As they ride, it becomes clear that Uma urgently needs a blood transfusion. Her blood type matches the overweight woman’s. They perform the transfusion right there, in the ambulance.
Uma regains consciousness. Covered in terrible bruises and cuts, disheveled and terrified, she lies on a hospital bed, barely able to move. Through the slowly clearing fog, she sees a male doctor in a white coat. She fully comes to her senses. The man introduces himself as her treating physician, explaining that he operated on her and pieced her back together. And, he adds, she owes her life to Dr. Dorey, who pulled her out of the burning car. Stepping forward from the background is the full-bodied woman, and Uma realizes she’s the same one who accidentally bumped into her at the store.
Uma’s eyes are shown in close-up. Is it pain? Joy? Gratitude? It’s hard to understand. But most importantly, the doctor adds, if Dr. Lindsey hadn’t shared her blood with Uma when emergency transfusion was needed, Uma would have undoubtedly died. So, Dr. Dorey saved her life twice. Dr. Dorey looks at Uma with a mix of embarrassment and almost tears, saying, “I’m so glad you’re alive…”
Uma’s face, in close-up, is distorted. Out of shame?
The last black-and-white “photograph” of the scene is Uma’s distorted, unattractive face, with bruises and cuts, a twisted mouth. And the stamp: “So, now there is FAT BLOOD in my body?!”
Life doesn’t teach them anything.
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