Take two very naive, very young French girls--one a thin 15-year-old, Elena (Roxane Mesquida), and the other her fat 12-year-old sister, Anaïs (Anaïs Reboux). Picture them as lambs. Add a manipulative older Italian boy, Fernando (Libero De Rienzo). Picture him as the wolf. Witness from close range as the one of the lambs (the thin one) is devoured by the wolf as the other lamb (the fat one) watches in pain but does nothing. The result is FAT GIRL, Catherine Breillat's intense, perplexing, suffocating, grim, terrifying, sickening, dark, plotting depiction of teenage loss of innocence. "Sinister" is what the Italian boy calls what he does to the French girl. "Proof of love" is how the thin girl justifies it. The fat girl, Anaïs, responds by sitting on the beach in her new dress and letting the surf wash up on her as she softly sings sad songs about boredom and death. Later, staring into the mirror, alone together, eye to eye, cheek to cheek, unblinking, the fat and thin sisters calmly share their most hateful feelings for each other. But nothing prepares the viewer for the final blow of the film, which sneaks up with a ferocity that pales the wolf-lamb scenario. Not a pretty picture, Breillat's shockingly realistic work features a fruity color scheme and an optimistic soundtrack that perfects the film's intended confusion of mood and message.