Obvious Child will carry the label of being “that abortion comedy.” Pro-lifers will hate it because of the subject matter. Pro-choicers probably won’t go for the idea of the topic of abortion being the center issue of a comedy. Come on, people. Get your collective heads out of the sand and realize this isn’t the first time the topic has been broached in comedies. While the females of Jason Reitman’s Juno and Judd Apatow’s Knocked Up considered the “A-word” as a way to end a pair of unexpected pregnancies – ultimately both went through with the deliveries – why would the topic be off limits for women who see it as the better option?
Gillian Robespierre, who makes her feature debut (by expanding her 2009 short film), doesn’t shy away from the issue, but she’s not trying to be provocative with it being the central issue to the story either. The film’s title is a playful nod to a song from Paul Simon with lyrics like “Why deny the obvious child?” Yet the song alludes to being accustomed to having it easy and a lot of fun and money. While stand-up comedienne Donna Stern, a late twenty-something-er, can attest to the fun part, her life is far from easy as she struggles to make ends meet. Performing at a cramped Brooklyn comedy club Donna adheres to the idiosyncratic style of confessional, body-conscious humor. Basically her life and her faults are told to a small crowd that doesn’t skulk away when she starts talking about her vagina or the weird sounds her body makes.
Donna is played by Jenny Slate. Slate’s stand-up is a close resemblance to how Donna performs on stage, so it was a happy accident when Robespierre saw her perform in a NYC club. By the time production started the character of Donna became more like Slate, as the two have a passion about being brutally honest in stand-up. Ipso facto, Slate’s performance is naturalistic in its quality, playing a woman who lets her baggage out on stage in bawdy and vulnerable fashion. Which is perfect for dealing with an unplanned pregnancy. Donna’s confessional on this development in her life and what she plans to do will ruffle some feathers. Then again, by the time she makes this revelation in front of a bunch of strangers, she’s already talked about most of her anatomy in crass fashion. It’s only gross when you take that aural stimuli and change it into a mental image. The offensive quality of the jokes is left to viewer interpretation.
Obvious Child is at its heart a romantic comedy that involves a subject most are uncomfortable talking about. Donna is more than able to offer wisecracks at inopportune times, but she has a sensitive side and is a little needy. As is the case when she is dumped by her longtime boyfriend. So she seeks comfort from her divorced parents: a puppet-making father (Richard Kind) and a business professor mother (Polly Draper). Donna also has a feminist roommate (Gaby Hoffmann) who is the first to suggest that she may be prego. Then there’s Max (Jake Lacy), the “rebound guy.” Unlike the majority of men she meets, Max lacks facial scruff and his Oxford-style clothes makes him stick out like a sore thumb in the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn. Perhaps Max got off the wrong subway stop to Manhattan, and hopped into a local bar-comedy establishment looking for directions only to get distracted by Donna and her white tank top.
Robespierre rightfully avoids overplaying the contrasts between Donna and Max. Donna does the work for us, pointing it out in wisecrack fashion acknowledging that Max is as Christian as a Christmas tree, while she’s the Menorah that would set it on fire. After a one-night tryst leaves her pregnant, Donna is positive about having the abortion. However, with leaving Max in the dark about Donna’s pregnancy for most of the comedy, it offers a quandary; she is conflicted on if he should ever know. If you fall into the camp that it is a woman’s decision should she be obligated to tell her partner? And how should such a conversation occur? Questions like these help to elevate the comedy above its simple rom-com conventions, especially one convenient situation putting them together in Donna’s mother’s apartment. But it leads to the funniest endorsement about Crocs I’ve ever heard so there’s that.
Obvious Child is a comedy that doesn’t try hard to make us laugh. You either warm up to Slate’s style of comedy or you don’t. The topic of abortion gives it a serious tone, but the movie doesn’t succumb to the weighty subject. Above all, both the comedy and the gravity of the situation are honest in their approach. Better this than becoming too earnest with a tacky ending that would rival rushing to the airport to stop the love of your life from leaving on an airplane.
Director: Gillian Robespierre
Writer(s): Robespierre, Karen Maine and Elisabeth Holm, based on a 2009 short
Notable Cast: Jenny Slate, Jake Lacy, Gaby Hofman, Richard Kind, Polly Draper
