The plus-sized comedian stars as Jazmin Biltmore (you know, because she's "built more" than most women), a sales assistant at a Century City department store who dreams of becoming a fashion designer, in large part because the clothes available for fat people are hideously bland. Constantly exclaiming, "I hate skinny bitches!" and lamenting the fact that she "ain't been laid in nine months" (poor dear try not being famous and you'll realize that's nothing, especially for someone who's grossly overweight), Jazmin is taunted by the presence of her cousin Mia (Joyful Drake), who has a figure to die for and likes to rub it in.
Then one day, Jazmin's diet pays off. Not that she actually loses weight, but she wins a sweepstakes sponsored by one of her supplements that lets her and two friends go to a Palm Springs resort for the weekend. With her demure and slightly less overweight best friend, Stacey (Kendra C. Johnson, who has worked as Queen Latifah's stand-in on the rapper/actress' last three movies and is a more agreeable onscreen presence), and Mia in tow, Jazmin goes through the usual facial-and-massage shenanigans familiar to viewers of Last Holiday and Big Momma's House 2. Things start looking up when it turns out there's a convention of Nigerian doctors in town, all of whom happen to be incredible physical specimens who revere large ladies. The tables are turned as Mia finds herself unable to get a date while Jazmin and Stacey are the objects of adoration.
This brings us to one huge honking irony that goes utterly unmentioned. The message of the movie is that it's OK to be a fat woman; love yourself for who you are. Fair enough; Hollywood is guilty of overglamorizing the anorexic look, though taking it to the reverse extreme isn't necessarily glorious (frankly, Mo'Nique looks unhealthy). But none of these overweight women has any interest in loving overweight men. Every guy on display here looks like a bodybuilder; that they all happen to be sensitive empaths is just gravy, but if you're going to idealize a chiseled physique in romantic partners, it might not be a terrible idea to hit the gym yourself.
Hey, just sayin'.
Anyway, once Jazmin catches the eye of sexy Doctor Tunde (Haitian actor Jimmy Jean-Louis), much of the story collapses. It's too early for a happy ending, so a conflict has to be contrived to keep the two apart, but writer-director Nnegest Likké (gotta love that name) can't even come up with a legitimate point of contention that might divide the two. Instead, Jazmin briefly gets the wrong impression, realizes almost immediately that she was wrong, then determines she's not worthy, even though Tunde still likes her. Tunde disappears from most of the rest of the movie, and the remaining story becomes increasingly disjointed as it focuses on Jazmin's fashion ideas. (In actuality, Mo'Nique did launch her own fashion line for fat girls in 2000, which lasted two years a little short of the phenomenon this film makes the notion out to be.)
Phat Girlz' biggest misstep may be its level of raunch. Though it squeaked by with a PG-13 rating, there are copious references to oral sex, sex talk, and depictions of sex between Stacey and the Nigerian man she meets. This stuff keeps things lively but may turn off the housewife demographic. A little more suggestion and a few more of the scenes in which Jazmin prays to God and remembers her religious grandmother might have nudged the movie into Madea territory. It still wouldn't have been a good movie, but it might have made a better chunk of change.