Obvious Child is a 2014 drama about a twenty-something comedienne’s unplanned pregnancy who forces her to confront the realities of independent womanhood for the first time.
I’ll admit that Jenny Slate sort of crept up on me. I mean, I knew about her because of well, you know, that whole SNL debacle, but barely gave her a second blink until I saw a small film called Joshy a few years ago and thought, “Hey, you know what? Jenny Slate is kinda, like, great.” Then I got hooked on her, and anytime I see her pop up in something now, I get a little hyped. You should, too.
That said, I finally got around to Obvious Child, her starring effort back in 2014, a feature length film extended from a 2009 short, both from writer/director Gillian Robespierre … and just as I was guessing, Slate is well, um … great. It’s a challenging role and powerfully feminine, if that’s okay to say, Slate taking it to the hollows with a kind of fearlessness few bring to the screen.
She is Donna Stern, a young (“a couple years from thirty”) comedienne who is killing it on stage, the crowd well into her bit on her savage vagina and the deconstruction of her relationship with Ryan (Paul Briganti). Thing is, right after the show, in the mixed gender bathroom, he dumps her, confessing they’ve never connected and he’s already sleeping with her best friend. I suppose there’s a symbolic meaning to the word ‘dump’ in this setting, but whatever, it’s a tough moment for Donna.
In a nosedive, trying to figure out what’s gone wrong in her life, she later bombs on stage and then meets Max (Jake Lacy), getting a little tipsy which, of course, leads to a one night stand. Next morning, she slips away unseen and thinks she’ll get on with her life until … a few weeks later, she discovers she’s pregnant. Now what?
While a lot of this is old hat, the commitment that Slate brings to Donna is what makes this ring, her almost disconcerting naturalness somewhat intoxicating. Match that with Robespierre’s clever and dynamic approach and you have a kettle of magic elixir that makes Obvious Child a uniquely entertaining watch.
While it spins on a comedic axis, there is a simmering underbelly of drama that always keeps the laughs bound to a very human experience, with again, Slate, uncannily delivering a blistering range of emotions. I love a little moment in the doctor’s office to confirm her suspicions, with Slate rounding all the bases. It’s pure joy to watch, even as it’s deeply emotional.
Look for good work from Abby Hoffman as well, who could have been stuck in the ruts of a the best friend trope, but manages to be authentic as well as perfuctory. The pair have several good moments together that fit surprisingly well in a movie about a girl and boy. Speaking of which, Lacy handles the ‘guy in the movie’ part with aplomb, sort of feeling like he knows he’s meant to linger in the periphery but makes the most of his walk-ons when he’s needed. It’s never distracting.
Obvious Child is a soft but strangely impactful story with a career-defining turn from Slate, who deserves as much credit as possible for the crazy heavy lifting she does here. Give it a look if you haven’t yet. She’ll win you over, guaranteed.