Dominick “Fatso” DiNapoli is not so fat – played with more pathos than bathos by a pre-Cannonball Run Dom DeLuise, he is not obese like his cousin Sal. When Sal and Fatso were alter boys together during Mass, Sal would secretly pass Fatso chocolates. Sal dies at 39, slain by gluttony. Anne Bancroft, who meagerly wrote and directed the movie, plays Fatso’s shrill cousin, wailing over the coffin and warning Fatso that he is next for the grave. Fatso mourns Sal in the only terms he knows. Fatso’s meditation on death is delightfully meaningful but the movie is wounded by its blaring overhead lighting like an office bathroom, and lack of any charm or hint of dynamism in its attempt at a Cassavettes-like cavalier vibe, only cringingly ineffective.

Fatso has a knack for the art of topping a slice of Italian bread with marinara. He cries over Sal while stirring and salting the tomato sauce. He is not a vile eater but a constant eater. He is proud of the delicacy with which he prepares his pathological food. Whereas Fatso is patient and genial, walking to work in the old Italian West Village and greeting neighbors on the street on the way to DiNapoli’s Card Store, his family and friends are stressed and overworked and unhappy Italiano stereotypes, and pick on Fatso more than look after his welfare. After dabbling with Dr. Schwartzman, a diet quack on East 65th Street, Fatso finds the girl of his dreams, a shy little blonde pumpkin. In the end he’s still fat.