In the end, the self-pity always comes through. Once the self-deprecation, tales of previous diets and bad observational stand-up culled from 45 abortive open mic nights are over, the whining will begin. Every single documentary about a fat person who apparently can't lose weight is inevitably drawn into a whirlpool of 'poor me'. And man alive does this tub of guts know how to whine? Hannah Jones, 36 years and 22 stones of wobbly narcissism writes a column about being fat. Not that she is self obsessed or anything but she believes that her gunt is so fucking important that in addition to her weekly first person waaaah-waaaah shtick she has spent six months investigating psychological treatment for obesity. Fix My Fat Head she cries. Because it just has to be psychological.

"Like all fat people, Hannah is a slob. She looks like shit, feels like it, acts like it but is too lazy to do anything about it. Every effort she makes is a token one. Fat people feel no more hunger than the rest of us. They've just adopted the strategy of talking about it more."

Like all fat people, Hannah is a slob. She looks like shit, feels like it, acts like it but is too lazy to do anything about it. Every effort she makes is a token one. She's a never-ending source of feeble excuses. We should get one thing clear from the off: fat people feel no more hunger than the rest of us. They've just adopted the strategy of talking about it more.

Hannah has tried every diet going. Well hasn’t every fat bastard you've ever met? They've tried Atkins, good carb, low-fat, Cambridge, Beverly Hills, cabbage soup, Dr Phil, Rosemary Conley and Aerial Telly's personal favourite Neanderthin a diet based around that of Palaeolithic man (Hannah passed this when she heard woolly mammoth was not on the menu) . Yes, she's tried every diet going. Tell you what though, chubby: you ever tried the consuming fewer calories than you burn off diet? It’s got a 100% success rate. No? Colour me stunned.

"Hannah tries out Susan Hepburn, hypnotherapist to the stars, who aided Lily Allen's crash diet that saw her plummet from a size 14 to a size 12."

As is often the case, Orca has a slim borefriend who is half decent looking, who could certainly do a lot better than her. She's not even got a good face and the rest of her is shite. Whatever, this chump supports her as she tries Lighter Life, a weight-loss programme that focuses on the dieter's emotional relationship with food; Susan Hepburn, hypnotherapist to the stars who aided Lily Allen's crash diet that saw her plummet from a size 14 to a size 12 and a psychotherapist who finds out she was sometimes lonely as a child and that food was her very best friend. Bombshell.

So the six months come to a close and Hannah proves beyond all reasonable doubt that the psychological approach is the only humane and effective way for people who are addicted to food (because it is an addiction, it really is) by shedding literally stones of weight. Oh wait, no she doesn't. Because the abysmal pleb has actually put on weight during her self-pity orgy. One semicircuit of the Sun to waste our time and eat more pies offering no insight, no closure and no weight loss.

"The moment she realises the current program she's on involves being less of a hog she pulls a face like Les Dawson's Ada Sidebottom and wobbles out of the room, jowls a-judder."

Hannah has once again "tried" everything. But the stumbling block is always the eating less part. The moment she realises the current program she's on involves being less of a hog she pulls a face like Les Dawson's Ada Sidebottom and wobbles out of the room, jowls a-judder. "OK, I haven't lost any weight" she says breezily”but maybe, just maybe - I'm finally on the right track". And thus finishes one of the most worthless documentaries ever commissioned. It monumentally fails in everything it set out to do. It's catastrophically stupid and lazy. But seriously: what you expect when you employ a fat bastard? That's what they do, that's what they are.

"This is not about weight loss, it's about Hannah. This is a flabby documentary about a flatulent fraud with an insatiable hunger to talk about herself."

Successful living is about sacrifice. You can't have your pie and eat it. Grown-ups understand this. But people like Fat Hannah think they're entitled to everything without any effort. She plays lip service to the idea of self-denial but she never had any intention of going without fatty food, reducing her portions or exercising more. Not for a heartbeat, never in a million years, even with cameras following her every move. Because this is not about weight loss, it's about Hannah being a self obsessed twat. It's about her being acknowledged as the brave, plucky, self-deprecating, have-a-go hero she's categorically not. This is a flabby documentary about a flatulent fraud with an insatiable hunger to talk about herself. She can fuck right off.

The best thing about it: Inadvertently exposes the excuses of the slovenly.

The worst thing about it: The laughable failure of its stated aim.

The verdict on Fix My Fat Head: As futile as buying a gym membership.

Marks out of 10: 4

Imagined: Friday, May 8th 2009

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