What Netflix Gets Right (And Doesn’t) About Being a ‘Tall Girl’
@Savannah Walsh
In the opening minutes of Tall Girl, which debuted on Netflix September 13, the film’s lead Jodi (Dance Moms‘ Ava Michelle) gives viewers the rundown on her taller-than-average frame. She declares herself 6’1 and a half, a moment that resonated all too well with this fellow Tall Girl™. Even at 22, I regularly cling to being 5’10 and a half for fear of what it’ll mean if I ever round up. Being tall is far from the worst scenario, despite what this movie can imply, but it’s in that extra half inch that a whole lot of baggage can reside.
As ELLE.com’s Resident Tall Girl™, I ventured to weigh in on if this Netflix rom-com would have anything valuable to say about the 6’0 space. The movie follows 16-year-old Jodi as she navigates high school and a love triangle challenged by her tallness. Whether dealing with her parents (who actually considered a procedure to stunt her growth) or outlandish school bullies, the movie mostly over exaggerates what it is to be tall.
To be fair, the story of this stature isn’t an easy one to capture. Being a few inches taller than most pales in comparison to adversity others face involving race, gender, and sexual orientation, something Twitter duly noted when the trailer dropped. However, the experience does warrant exploration, and an upbeat teen movie is a good place to start. But like anything that represents a person’s experience of alienation, one 90-minute movie won’t tell the whole tale.
For me, there were a lot of things that Tall Girl got right about the hell that can be your out-of-place height in high school. I nodded with knowing recognition when Jodi talked about her permanent place at the back row center of class photos. The refusal to wear high heels, tendency to slouch at all times, and desire to be gawked at less are all narratives that rang true.
In one moment of the movie, Jodi confides in Stig, a towering Swedish suitor, that being a tall woman isn’t what it is to be a tall man. Unless you can foray your extra inches into basketball/volleyball (my utter lack of athleticism struck that from the list) or you look like Karlie Kloss, being a tall female can just leave you feeling out of place.
Most significantly, dating as a taller woman can be a really sensitive, awkward ordeal, especially when teenage hormones are involved. Like Jodi, I’ve sensed a feeling of unease wash over a guy when I stand up and he realizes I’m taller than him. I’ve been enamored with certain tall men far longer than I ever needed to be just because I could look up at them and feel proportionately “normal.” And the start to every friend set-up I’ve ever had is, “He’s really tall…” Nevermind if he’s actually a good person.
I’ve questioned my femininity. I’ve felt disheartened by the shrunken dating pool. I’ve deflected questions about my height since elementary school. (How one is ever supposed to respond to the observation, “You’re really tall” is beyond me.) Challenges that come with being a tall woman are subtle, often internalized. That is, other than the battle to find jeans that reach past the ankle. It’s not the fact of being tall that triggers insecurities, but in the way people can interact with your tallness.
I wish Netflix had delved into those subtleties, but the movie opts instead to incorporate tall tropes and unrealistic stakes. For instance, having Jodi’s happily ever after involve a kiss on a milk carton, or her daily life include taunts of “How’s the weather up there,” feel silly and reductive. In Tall Girl, being a taller-than-average teen girl is posed as the worst fate possible, which ultimately cheapens the message of the movie. If the movie had put the experience in perspective, anyone could relate to Jodi’s outcast existence. But if even one teen Tall Girl watches this and feels momentarily recognized, I’ll take it.
