For the year 2021, I have set a goal to watch #52FilmsByWomen. I found 2020 to be an exceptionally incredible year for women filmmakers, amid the crazy global pandemic their films were often pushed to the front of the line without big theater blockbusters taking all the limelight. I will watch one film per week made by a woman, all films I have never seen before, both old and a few fairly recent releases sprinkled in, as well. I look forward to expanding my knowledge of women filmmakers and their work, and hopefully bring a new light and following to a severely under-appreciated part of cinema.
Who do you look to for film recommendations? I look to my fellow film critic friends and what they’re reviewing or commenting on, both new and old films. I especially like to pay attention to films I see mentioned that I may have missed in the past. When Obvious Child was mentioned by a friend as one of her 4-favorite woman directed films, via an image of Jenny Slate, I immediately went to look it up and add it to my list. I am a fan of Jenny Slate, and I value the opinion of my women critic friends, so this was all I needed to know before watching this film.
Jenny Slate channels herself to play the lead character, Donna, a stand-up comedian. Spoiler alert upfront here: Donna becomes pregnant and gets an abortion. I just want to get that out of the way because that is what you think the film is about when in reality it is about an independent, free-spirited woman maturing into herself, accepting who she is, flaws and all. The abortion is part of her story–not the whole story. The film opens with Donna performing a set where she discusses hiding farts from her boyfriend, and what a woman’s underwear really looks like at the end of a day. To say this made me feel like this is my type of film just within the first few minutes is a complete understatement. I am all in.
Donna uses her real-life experiences, as most comedians do, to center the conversation of her comedy. She talks about her current boyfriend, as it cuts to him the crowd, awkwardly grimacing that their relationship is her go-to subject for content. After said boyfriend dumps her right there in the gritty, graffiti-covered gender-neutral bathroom confessing that he has been sleeping with her friend. Donna is devastated by this news and ends her night in a wine-induced spiral of leaving chain voicemails on his phone. As she navigates being alone post break-up, she finds herself in a situation most women post-break-up can relate to. She stands outside of his house, shivering and drinking coffee, asking herself OCD-induced questions, “if this woman crosses the street on my second sip, I will leave” although she is hoping to unexpectedly see or run into her ex. She clearly does not actually want to run into her ex, but her intrusive thoughts have brought her here. This is funny and relatable and true. She sees her ex leave his home with his new girlfriend, her former friend, and their dog. She cusses, throws her coffee, and runs away.
Donna also finds herself in a relatable situation most people post-break up do, too: a one night stand. Max (Jake Lacy) is a sweet and thoughtful man that she continues to cross paths with even after their one night together. He finds her at the bookstore she works at and he ends up being one of her mother’s former students. It is clear that he is interested in Donna, as she hides the pregnancy from him, unsure of how to deliver the news.
Everything comes full circle when Donna invites Max to her show, where she decides to confess her pregnancy and abortion plans to the entire audience. Max has arrived just in time to hear the news, and the ambiance of the scene calls back to the first scene with her ex–however, Max leaves when he becomes overwhelmed by what she is sharing, realizing he is involved. Donna has found herself exactly where she started at the beginning of the film, yet in such a different, more confident place as a woman. Max does not let her down though, as he shows up the next day, with flowers and accompanies her to the procedure. He is just there for her and that’s all he needs to be. There is never a conversation about the abortion or her decision initiated by him, which was refreshing.
This narrative and characters are sweet, honest, funny. The narrative is not overly dramatized like a lot of Hollywood films before it, where women experience unexpected pregnancies and end up keeping the baby and trying to make it work with the father. This was the inspiration for the director, Gillian Robespierre, who first made this short film of the came name because she was bothered by films like Juno (2007), or Knocked Up (2007). The film normalizes abortion within its other characters as well, Donna’s best friend and mother both have had abortions, and, I would like to think, has pioneered other films to do the same. Donna’s growth over the course of the short runtime is inspiring. She is an adult woman who has found herself feeling supported, respected, and loved at this turning point in her life.
