Netflix's 'Insatiable' takes 12 mind-numbing hours to add insult to injury

Turns out Insatiable wasn't better than advertised.

If you're not caught up on the controversy, in July, Netflix dropped a trailer for the new campy, teen series—and some viewers (understandably) lost it. Labeling the preview an unequivocal display of fat-shaming, many called for its cancellation prior to the series' premiere.

On August 10th, Netflix made Insatiable available as scheduled — and the mystery of whether its promotion was a marketing faux pas or a sneak peek into a costly mistake was ripe for the solving.

I promptly dove in head first and gave Insatiable twelve hours of my life. Sadly, I won't be getting back all that time which, as it turns out, the warped teen satire didn't deserve in the first place.

Despite having a full season to prove its shallow premise hid a meaningful message, Insatiable couldn't let go of its body image obsession or impulsive need to mock weight. And, honestly, I'm really disappointed.

Spoilers for Insatiable are ahead.

In spite of everyone warning me about this show, I began my Insatiable journey hopeful. As both a big fan of dark camp and a terminal optimist, I had faith that even if this story was starting with a grossly outdated premise of weight loss "fixing" a teen girl's life, it could find a comedic sweet spot. We need good stories out there and I wanted one. Plus, Insatiable's creators had to have known better than to have actually made the monstrosity they'd advertised, right?

For the next twelve hours, I was proven wrong... and then right... and then wrong in an exhausting, touch-and-go loop. This show has got some sidesplittingly funny moments, but it also has a wealth of shameful stereotyping that seems to never stop giving. At every turn, Insatiable recklessly rips through a litany of social issues and, despite my prayers, refuses to stop the fat-shaming.

Original image has been replaced. Credit: Mashable

The number of jokes that aren't jokes when it comes to the former "Fatty Patty" reaches too many to count in "Banana Heart Banana." Any and all of Patty's character growth is constantly related to her weight loss (e.g. her big swimsuit reveal in "Bikinis and Bitches.") And, even when the current predicament seems to have nothing to do with body image, Insatiable goes out of its way to bring it up. (See Patty using Twinkie-like cream to remove a pair of handcuffs and her accompanying monologue in "Why Bad Things Happen.")

Through all of this, I kept pleading for Insatiable to use its sparkly style and witty banter to find some way out of these body-hating woods. But, my hopes were finally obliterated upon discovery of Patty's teratoma.

Enjoying myself, if only for a brief moment, I paused the show to cheerfully point out this particularly bizarre plot point. My colleague, who had not been watching, swiftly predicted, "They're gonna say she ate her twin cause she used to be fat."

Disregarding my co-worker's guess, I eagerly pressed play, smiling, and twenty seconds later... bingo. Even in this bizarre soap opera subplot, we were somehow back to making fun of this girl's weight.

Nearly ever scene I enjoyed went like this. Decent bits of this ridiculous narrative were quickly countered with problematic, backhanded body-shaming jokes. And that's a bummer.

Akin to Tyra Banks 2005 Top Model rant, I was rooting for this show. We don't need more tone-deaf, hateful material out there. We need inspiring, feel-good stories that help us get through the day. I wanted one of those this week. Insatiable could have been that.

Tragically, despite its creators' clear talent and smarts, Insatiable doesn't deliver what any of us are really hungry for. Instead, its telling of the same, cruel, unfunny joke added to the cacophony of bullying to which we've all become too accustomed.

Perhaps Insatiable can right some wrongs if Netflix gifts it another season. But, as someone hoping for better, I won't be watching.

Insatiable is available to stream on Netflix.