Obvious Child has
reductively been referred to as the abortion rom-com. Yes, the subject plays an
important part in the film, but the movie shouldn't be defined by it just as
the protagonist shouldn't be defined by one act.
Obvious Child began
as a 2009 short film written and directed by Gillian Robespierre and starring
Jenny Slate. Robespierre is a first time director while Slate spent a season on
Saturday Night Live and had recurring
role on Parks and Recreation.
Slate stars as New Yorker Donna Stern, who works
at a bookstore during the day and performs as a stand-up comic at night. It
should go without saying that she's barely scraping by in the Big Apple. The
comedy club she frequents could hardly be considered a metropolis of mirth. Donna's
material usually involves intimate details from her love life, which angers her
boyfriend Ryan (Paul Briganti), who breaks up with her in a dingy co-ed
bathroom. To add insult to injury, he also admits to cheating on Donna for
several months.
Donna deals with the situation about as well as expected. She clumsily attempts to stalk her ex, and then awkwardly rambles about the ordeal on stage. She tops off the evening by getting blazing drunk and engaging in a one-night stand with the clean cut Max (Jake Lacy). Upon discovering she's pregnant, Donna ultimately decides to have an abortion, but finds it exceedingly difficult to break the news to Max.
Mainstream movies have generally avoided the hot button issue of abortion like the plague. It's flippantly brought up for the briefest seconds in Knocked Up while the title character in Juno is sent fleeing from a clinic. The only film in recent memory to deal with the subject with any dramatic weight is Cristian Mungiu's 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days. It goes without saying that Obvious Child is on a completely different spectrum.
Robespierre's screenplay has all the earmarks of an indie comedy with plenty of cutesy, twee moments such as Donna and Max sharing a romantic piss in an alley or a fresh take on the clichéd pregnancy test scene. Robespierre doesn't treat the subject with kid gloves. Yet, she avoids sermonizing or demonizing her characters. Donna's decision isn't painted as a right or wrong one, just a decision that she makes without agonizing over it. It's a bold choice on Robespierre's part and one that will undoubtedly irk some.
Jenny Slate deserves credit for imbuing a potentially unlikeable character with such winning charm. Donna could have easily been an annoying hipster, an aimless millennial in a post-Lena Dunham world. But, no, there's a gentle quality to her in spite of a filthy stand-up act cut from the same cloth as Sarah Silverman and Amy Schumer. There's also a sweet romance blossoming between Donna and Max, the latter of whom might have been relegated to the role of bland nice guy in a more conventional rom-com.
Obvious Child is an uneven comedy and Robespierre may have
been better served trimming a few bits and pieces. A scene involving David
Cross as a loathsome lothario feels quite superfluous. Still, Obvious Child is a welcome change of
pace to all the lowbrow comedies and effects extravaganzas cluttering the
shopping mall multiplexes. The picture hinges on a solid performance by Jenny
Slate and a supporting cast that includes Gaby Hoffman and Richard Kind.
Rating: ** ½ (*****)
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