The Martian continues in the great astronaut film tradition of reminding us that although we live in a broken world, duct tape can repair just about anything. Even better, as far as fixing human nature is concerned, the movie provides an antidote to racism, sexism, despair, global violence, and science denialism by celebrating human ingenuity, diversity, teamwork, and international cooperation. And, of course, science. This nerd’s delight is winning plaudits for its scientific accuracy.
The Martian is accurate on another count as well: how incredibly difficult it is to lose weight! As a lifetime member of Weight Watchers, I know it’s a scientific fact that the body will not relinquish one ounce no matter how much you exercise and how little you eat.
An uninformed person might think, for example, that a guy who has to stretch 60 days of NASA rations to last four years might quickly drop a few pounds, even if said rations are calorie-dense (or “high in points” as we Weight Watchers say) and supplemented by a bumper crop of potatoes. Weight loss might occur even faster if the guy is laboring to set up a Martian greenhouse, hydration system, night-soil composting facility, and solar panels. Even without a lot of gravitational pull, such physical exertion burns a lot of calories, particularly when wearing a heavy space suit.
Yet Matt Damon, who looks pretty hefty at the beginning of the film, looks exactly the same several dozen food-restricted sols later. Talk about plateaus!
I blame the potatoes. Sure, they save Matt Damon’s life and are listed as a Weight Watcher’s Power Food when eaten plain (or with Vicodin powder as a zero-point flavor enhancement). But you have to be careful with potatoes. I, for example, just spent a weekend hiking in the mountains. I also spent a whole bunch of points on a half batch of delicious French fries. Despite vigorous exercise, I gained three pounds.
We weak-willed earthlings usually throw in the towel at this point. But Matt Damon is a man of science and discipline for whom throwing in the towel is never an option. Also, even if he wanted, understandably, to indulge in a little stress-eating by binging on yummy carbohydrates, he can’t: all his potatoes are nuked into oblivion by a sudden deep freeze. So it’s back to extreme-portion-controlled MREs.
Still, Matt’s weight stubbornly refuses to budge. At Weight Watchers, we have a saying for this: “It’s in the bank!” This promise of earned weight loss yet to be realized keeps hope alive despite the unfairness of the laws of physics. Just refrain from self-sabotage and remember: Your weight loss is in the bank, and those pounds will eventually roll right off!
And lo! That’s exactly what happens in The Martian! Matt Damon goes from endlessly looking cute but downright plump to a screen shot labeled “Seven Months Later,” in which a gaunt body double emerges naked save for a long scruffy beard and wild hair. Apparently, facial hair is also in the bank, as we have seen nary a trace of stubble in the considerable time we spend with Matt before seven months suddenly pass. Then, in another tribute to reality, Matt is back to his full-figured self soon after the camera turns away from his anorexic body double.
I love The Martian for illuminating the reality and perils of yo-yo dieting. It also shows that confidence, competence, and good cheer have nothing to do with weight. For which we Weight Watchers are grateful.
We are also grateful for the incredible hope the movie conveys. Sure, a post-racial, post-sexist, science-loving era of international cooperation to solve big problems is nice. But here’s the real hope: When all else fails with your weight-loss mission, and you just can’t break that plateau, head to Mars. You’ll find that no matter what your lying (or depressingly truth-telling) scale says on Earth, you’ll cut that number by about two-thirds on the Red Planet.
If you don’t believe me, just check out this science-based handy conversion calculator.
And whatever you do, stay away from Jupiter.
