OBVIOUS CHILD: A Wonderful, Honest Indie Comedy That Subverts Indie Comedies

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Readhead Review: Obvious Child

Obvious Child is charming, unpretentious and above all, honest, sometimes brutally so; we often watch Donna Stern, our protagonist played by Jenny Slate, crash and burn, trying to deal with pain through her stand-up comedy. Donna is dumped, fired and pregnant from a one-night-stand (all within a matter of weeks, leading up to Valentine’s Day). The comedic tone of the film never masks the pain of these experiences, nor does it make Donna’s painful human emotions subordinate. Rather, humor serves as a kind of therapy for both Donna in the narrative and for the audience watching that narrative unfold.

Donna is, herself, a quirky sort of anti-heroine, but the film never tries overly hard to present us with that kind of figure; instead, her character is relatable and realistic, her silliness on and offstage refreshingly organic, sometimes faltering and giving way to tears, but never totally disappearing either, even in the midst of her struggles. So, what we end up with here is an indie comedy that subverts the stylistic and narrative pitfalls of most other indie comedies, and which deftly handles a touchy subject with heart, humor and honesty.

That touchy subject, of course, is abortion; Donna, upon learning she is pregnant, decides this is what is best for her, and schedules the procedure, in a dark turn of irony, for Valentine’s Day. In many other films, the issue of abortion is barely brought up let alone illuminated—think Juno or maybe even Knocked Up. So for this film to tackle this oft-hotly-debated question of woman’s choice without even a hint of condescension, without preaching, and without shame or regret, it is already setting itself apart. That is not to say that Donna’s choice is not without apparent conflict, but like everything else in the film, that conflict is not played out melodramatically, nor is it taken lightly either—the film finds a delicate balance between giving weight and gravity to the topic while also approaching it as Donna logically would: with a truthful sense of humor.

In the scene during which she is waiting for the pregnancy test results, for instance, we are given a hilarious glimpse into Donna’s head, as she is imagining herself being interviewed (by herself, mind you) on a radio show of her own imagination’s making, replaying various tragicomic scenarios of her one-night-stand. The scene is quirky, yes, but it also makes perfect sense for Donna— she never appears to us like a hipster archetype, but rather a genuinely eccentric bookshop worker by day, stand-up comedian by night, who has real problems and real emotions beneath what could have easily been nothing more than a worn-out indie façade. Donna comes across as a real, tangible twenty-something living in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, who is not intellectually or emotionally (or financially) ready to bring a baby into this world.

I also really loved the stand-up comedy interjections in the film. We see Donna being vulnerable offstage, sure, but it is her stand-up routines that break the film up nicely, diverting away from potential redundancy or monotony, and we see her vulnerability in an even more raw, and again, therapeutic way onstage. The dialogue, besides being laugh-out-loud funny as well, also feels honest and authentic. In terms of characters and chemistry, Donna’s unaware baby-daddy, Max (played by Jake Lacy)—a young man who is, allegedly, not her type at all and yet who seems perfect for her throughout their interactions—gives the film a kind of sweetness and a sense of hope for the healing Donna. The film doesn’t necessarily lead you to want her to change her mind about the abortion, but you do yearn for them to maybe have a baby one day, at least. Slate is really the noteworthy performer here though of them all. As Donna, she negotiates fart jokes, fear, and despair fluidly and seamlessly; her comedic moments are punctuated with effortless timing and adorable feistiness, her dramatic moments feeling similarly raw and unreserved.

This film is not only wonderful, but it is important, and it is wonderful because it never makes a big deal out of its own importance; it’s just a story of one flawed and frank young woman, who learns that she is not alone in her choice, and that realization seems to me to be more strongly emphasized than her learning to love or trust again. In a way, abortion in the film becomes one of many catalysts in Donna’s stunted maturation, and no other film has approached the issue in a way that makes it seem somewhat natural or at the very least, justifiable. The stories of other women in Donna’s life who have gotten the procedure only seem so overly coincidental because so many other media make it seem rarer and more taboo than it actually is; there is something mildly empowering about Donna’s story, a subtle undertone in the shot of shared glances between Donna and the other women that comes late in the film.

There is something to be said, I think, about the honesty of the film at large; in fact, I think that is the main reason why this film is so great. The only thing that ever feels manipulated about the movie would be the editing; in certain sequences, rapid cutting successfully serves to make us laugh at some action being repeated. Other than that though, this film feels consistently and affectingly human; like Donna herself, Obvious Child is at times witty and crude, and at others emotionally conflicted. And, most impressively, even when generic and character tropes seem tempting, and when an issue like abortion seems daunting, this film remains unabashedly, unashamedly honest.

Director: Gillian Robespierre
Starring: Jenny Slate, Jake Lacy, Gaby Hoffman, Gabe Liedman, Polly Draper, Richard Kind, David Cross
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stand-up routines

Sara majors in Film Studies and Media & Communication at Muhlenberg College. Her favorite genre is horror but she loves learning, writing and talking about all kinds of movies and all forms of entertainment. She has interned with Film Forum and Tribeca Film, both in her native NYC where she hopes to find work in criticism, marketing, distribution, or festival programming post-grad. Her blog and associated Twitter were created with the intention of being more involved and aware of happenings in the film and television industries, as well as to practice writing about pop culture in an academic but friendly and funny way.