This review contains spoilers for Fitting In
Fitting In is a Canadian-made traumedy written and directed by Molly McGlynn that follows Lindy, (Maddie Ziegler) a normal 16-year-old girl navigating the bizarre yet ubiquitous phenomenon of female adolescence, whose life is sent into a spin when a check-up at the gynecologist leads to an unexpected diagnosis.
Her doctor informs her that she was born with Mayer-Rokitansky-Küster-Hauser (MRKH) Syndrome, a condition characterized by an underdeveloped vagina and uterus. In Lindy’s case, she is found to have ovaries but no uterus at all and a vagina that is only one inch deep.
The news inevitably sparks a multi-layered identity crisis characterized by the overwhelming realization that her life will not unfold as she’d imagined, which sets a curious coming-of-age story in motion.
Faced with the knowledge that she will never be able to carry a child, that sex will be even more complicated, and that her preconceived notions of womanhood would have to be dismantled and rebuilt, Lindy spirals into a teenage hell.
Ziegler’s performance is effortless and understated, and she depicts the torment of Lindy’s diagnosis with heartbreaking sensitivity and humour.
Though discovering what it means to be a woman is not a novel form of cinematic exploration, Ziegler portrays with definitive insight an unusual brand of suffering; where the odyssey of early womanhood collides with the discovery of atypical biological characteristics, and where unfamiliar physical pain, invasive medical examinations and psychological distress exacerbate teenage angst.
In arguably the film’s most poignant scene, Lindy quietly sobs with childlike fear as a gaggle of newly qualified male doctors examine her with dumbfounded interest. Just one female physician offers comfort and relief to Lindy in a likely uncanny and familiar scenario for the majority of women watching.
Nonetheless, Fitting In’s attention-grabbing commentary and captivating performances are occasionally overshadowed by cheesy, generic and clumsy story telling.
The film also trips over the subject of sexuality with disappointing predictability, seemingly conflating sexual orientation with biology as a means to drive the plot.
After making a gender non-conforming friend at a support group, Lindy confides in them and they soon develop a romantic relationship with one another.
While it makes narrative sense that Lindy would turn to them for support, their romance feels ill-fitting and counter-intuitive because Lindy’s interest doesn’t originate from a place of well-established curiosity. Instead, it appears to arise from the assumption that because she is, according to some definitions, biologically intersex, her sexuality must also diverge from what she had previously believed it to be.
A strange depiction of queerness for a film that otherwise handles its subject matter with care.
Fitting In is far from perfect, but it does make an adept commentary about the need for more open conversations about female reproductive health in the fledgling stages of adulthood. While it is funny, it’s unlikely to induce belly laughs, though it is peppered with tear-jerking crescendos, it probably won’t send you grabbing for the tissues. Ziegler however, will certainly leave a lasting impression.
