In fifth grade, as I sat at a lunch table eating with my classmates, a boy at the table over called me “freakishly tall.” When I reached seventh grade, I towered over even my basketball teammates. As a freshman in high school, I was frequently asked by adults what year I was in college. Suffice it to say, I’ve always been tall. I can point to a number of instances in my life where my height has been the subject of jokes, comments, and passerbys’ mutterings. Whether by my own doing or by internalization of others’ views (and I’m still not sure which it is), being tall has been a part of my identity for as long as I can remember.
It should come as little surprise, then, that while scrolling through Twitter one afternoon—with my legs dangling off the end of my bed—I found myself drawn to a trailer for a movie called Tall Girl. At first, I assumed the film was satire. Maybe a meme taking a jab at Netflix’s recent bout of cheesy teen movies, I thought. With a name as simple as Tall Girl, it surely couldn’t be real. When I noticed the Netflix account and its verifying check mark, though, my doubts were disproven. I clicked play.
The movie, released September 13th, centers around 6’1’’ Jodi, a white girl in a seemingly suburban American high school. As I watched the trailer with dialed-in focus, I couldn’t deny the similarities I had with her. I’m a 5’11’’ white girl who grew up in suburban America. Towering over boys in Nikes since 2000, folks.
Despite these similarities, I felt myself rolling my eyes at many points throughout the trailer. Only a few moments in, Tall Girl’s Jodi is about to be asked out by a guy when suddenly, she stands up. His voice sputters. The camera pans up for what seems like minutes, zooming out and portraying Jodi like the Hulk before battle The boy immediately rescinds his offer in light of this shocking discovery: Gasp! She is tall! Maybe it was just me who noticed that her knees stood level with the library table, but I’m glad he found out in an exciting manner. Hollywood: 1. Normalization: 0.
Tall Girl left me feeling annoyed and uncomfortable, with a weird sense of second-hand guilt for the outrage spreading across social media.
As it continues, the preview offers more moments like these. The plot seems to focus less on just Jodi’s height and more on her struggles with romance because she is tall. When an exchange student enrolls at her school, the trailer takes shape. The new student is tall, blonde, and white. He’s the first character portrayed as a realistic option for the lead’s romance. Ah, love at first height… that is how the saying goes, isn’t it? Then, when Jodi receives a prank call from her local mean girl pretending to be the exchange student she likes, she hears, “Let’s face it, Jodi. You’ll always be the tall girl.”
Honestly, I laughed at this—but not because I found it relatable, or silly, or searing. Tropes and comments like these are frustrating and make it difficult to let this movie pass by as innocently misguided entertainment. With both actresses styled by professionals and sporting Hollywood-curated “teen girl who looks 25” appearances, the prank call scene feels more out of touch than touching. And if the average height of people has seen an increase in the last century, why does a 6-foot-something boy make waves in an American high school? Admittedly, I love a good cheesy flick. The dramatic lives of rich teenagers and a recent murder in their town? Sure, I’ll eat it up. Cozy holiday movies where every female lead makes a living as a baker? Serve the cookies! But Tall Girl left me feeling annoyed and uncomfortable, with a weird sense of second-hand guilt for the outrage spreading across social media.
So what made this trailer so different? Why do I feel comfortable settling into a Hallmark movie but unsettled by a movie about a girl similar to myself? While the intentions of the film may be good-natured, its trailer doesn’t seem to reflect this. I think the movie is trying to squeeze into a role it doesn’t quite fit—and in doing so, it steps on the toes of those who deserve the spotlight more.
Growing up (and up and up), I didn’t like being a foot taller than my friends in photos, and I was worried that no boys would like me if I was always going to be taller than them. Fortunately, as I grew out of jeans more quickly than my mother would like to remember, I also grew out of this mindset.
In the age of long-legged it-girls, it doesn’t seem to me that the “tall girl” voice is in dire need of amplification.
Still, I wouldn’t say that my height has been monumental to the path of my life. I don’t face the same systemic prejudice for being tall as so many others face for traits equally as innate. Across the U.S., things like race, gender identity, and sexuality place certain people in positions of insecurity and injustice through no fault of their own. That’s why to me, Tall Girl feels like it’s speaking more loudly than it needs to at this moment in time. The problem isn’t acknowledging bullying and judgment that goes on for petty reasons such as height, and the problem isn’t acknowledging insecurities and representing them on screen. It’s just that some voices are already muffled enough. In the age of long-legged it-girls like Karlie Kloss, Kendall Jenner, and Gigi Hadid, it doesn’t seem to me that the “tall girl” voice is in dire need of amplification. Even the actress, Ava Michelle, is a model herself. Does the tall white girl really deserve a Netflix original for just… being tall?
Granted, not every movie has to make a political statement. There is room and need for entertainment for entertainment’s sake. But based on its trailer, Tall Girl appears to be promoting itself as a movie about self-love. Unfortunately, this important message doesn’t match up with the preview. In just a three-minute trailer, we see a number of aspects undermine the movie’s apparent claim to acceptance. The token black character as a supportive side-kick leaves her character underdeveloped, implying that she is less important than her model-esque white best friend. Rather than advocating for acceptance of all styles, an extreme makeover of Jodi situates “feminine” fashion as the key to beauty. On top of that, the exchange student’s role taps into the sexist notion that although tall men are desirable, tall women are not.
As I see it, Netflix’s lead of the streaming industry provides them with power to produce originals that shape the narratives around pressing issues. There is surely a way to make a meaningful statement about bullying, body image, and their intersections without revolving the movie’s major conflict around the main character’s height. For that, I guess we’ll have to wait and see. Though some of their pursuits succeed, some land worse than others. Unlike 4’8’’ gymnast extraordinaire Simone Biles, Tall Girl doesn’t quite stick the landing.
