If there was a way to describe independent cinema in only one sentence, it would probably be “the films that tell the stories that mainstream cinema is too afraid to” – and very few films are as applicable to this concept as Obvious Child, the debut feature by indie filmmaker and writer Gillian Robespierre. Obvious Child was marketed quite reductively (but accurately) as “an abortion comedy”, and while the film is about much more than that, its approach to one of the most highly-contested, controversial social issues, one that is relevant in all societal settings around the world, makes it one of the most fearless, brilliant pieces of comedy made in the twenty-first century, a hilarious and deeply moving representations of modern issues that tackles a delicate subject in a way that elicit the two most important responses a film like this could hope for: relentless laughter and provocative thought.

Obvious Child is about Donna Stern (Jenny Slate), a woman nearing the dreaded thirties. She is perceived as a drifter without any clear direction in life – she works in a bookshop (the creatively titled “Unoppressive Non-Imperialist Bargain Books”, which I am shocked and amused to discover actually exists) which is soon to be closed down. Her mother (Polly Draper) is a well-regarded college professor, and her father (Richard Kind) is a highly-successful puppeteer and children’s entertainer. Donna clearly takes on her father’s quirks, as her passion is stand-up comedy, where she consistently performs at a local comedy club, where she is often adored by audiences. However, a brutal break-up results in Donna spiraling out of control, and she very soon has a one-night-stand with an alluring stranger named Max (Jake Lacy). She very soon finds out that she is pregnant, and along with her roommate and confidante Nellie (Gaby Hoffman), Donna decides that she is going to have an abortion – but it is far from being an easy decision for her, especially considering Max constantly (and accidentally) finds his way back into her life, forcing her to consider whether or not she is making the right decision.

There are very few actresses working today that are quite as unique as Jenny Slate. An actress who is as beguiling as she is hilarious, Obvious Child is a film carried entirely on her performance. Slate has constantly been a presence in these kinds of small, intimate independent comedies, becoming a mainstay of the mumblecore movement. Considering how her dismissal from Saturday Night Live years ago may have aided her career by allowing her to choose some fascinating, unique projects, some may say that Lorne Michaels did her an inadvertent favor. Slate is absolutely astonishing in Obvious Child, being able to handle the emotional weight of this film with absolute grace and sincerity. There does not seem to be a single false moment in Slate’s performance, and her ability to create a character, one with true complexity, and convey her emotional state with such superb nuance, is truly extraordinary. It is difficult to imagine anyone watching Obvious Child and not being delightfully charmed with Slate, who is rambunctious but realistic, bombastic without being irritating. It is a performance that exceeds nearly every expectation one would have about a film such as this, and what Slate does with this character is truly incredible. Robespierre and Slate worked together extremely well to construct a character who was unique and original, but familiar enough to not seem like an entirely fictional creation. It is an enduring, marvelous performance from an extremely talented actress who is steadily growing as a consistently reliable performer.

There are many films that are made about stand-up comedians and their trials and tribulations while away from the microphone, and I normally love all of them, such as The Big Sick, Sleepwalk with Me, Top Five, Funny People and the tremendous Man on the Moon and Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life is Calling. Obvious Child fits in well with these films, being a tragicomic account for the life of a stand-up comedian as she navigates various difficulties. I am inherently fascinated about these films about stand-up comedy because they very rarely are outrageously funny, and often veer towards being quite dramatic – and considering the films I have mentioned, serious subject matter such as cancer, life-threatening disease, addiction and infidelity, and suicide. These grave subjects are often used as tools for juxtaposing the comedic overtures present throughout, comparing and contrasting serious issues with laughter. Obvious Child, as mentioned previously, is a film about abortion, a subject that is unfortunately still far too delicately-handled in modern entertainment. There is a certain effectiveness in contrasting the life of Donna on-stage and off-stage, as it allows her the opportunity to work through her trauma and her fragile state, much in the same way characters in these other films do. The stand-up comedy film actually possesses, in many instances, quite a deep and thought-provoking meaning, whereby the therapist’s office is replaced with the dimly-lit, smoky comedy clubs, but has the same function, being a platform for which our protagonists are able to “talk through” their problems with strangers, who inadvertently assist in the character’s arc. Obvious Child does this effectively, with some of the most tender and pivotal emotional moments coming from Donna’s frank and straightforward discussions. Talking through our problems is sometimes the best remedy for what ails us, and it has never been more clear than in a film such as Obvious Child.

One of the biggest merits of Obvious Child is its honesty. It is a hilarious film, but one that is profoundly truthful, and it does not dare avoid talking about the serious issues that many people face. This is a film that elicits laughter as a response to frank discussions of tough issues, a film that is often serious about the subject matter while still being undeniably touching, and extraordinarily endearing at the same time. Obvious Child may be a comedy, but it does not dare to make light of abortion, and rather approaches it as a topic that must be discussed, openly and honestly, without being overly serious. Much like a film such as 50/50 looks at cancer through the lens of tragicomedy, Obvious Child shows the truthful pain as well as the profound joy that comes with making a decision that could affect your life and those who you know, but one that, despite all difficulties, will ultimately result in doing what one believes is right. The way the topic of abortion is handled in Obvious Child is utterly admirable, and Robespierre deserves endless kudos for her beautifully delicate and outrageously portrayal of a very relevant issue.

Obvious Child is a great film. It has legitimate independent film merits, including hitting many of the familiar indie beats, such as having an endearing story conveyed through the meaningful dialogue between characters, and a great set of performances, with individuals such as Polly Draper, Richard Kind and Gaby Hoffman having some wonderful supporting work to do in this film, aiding the progression of this story without daring to be overwhelming. The film is a moving and emotionally-resonant piece of cinema, a meaningful meditation on serious issues that should be openly discussed, in spite of how controversial they may be. It is an honest film and one anchored by an incredible lead performance from Jenny Slate, who is a rising star, as well as Gillian Robespierre, who has the potential to be one of the most exciting voices in contemporary American cinema. I found Obvious Child to be a frank and brutally honest film, but an admirable and entertaining one. I adored it and found it to be just another piece of the proverbial mosaic that defines independent cinema as an exciting and socially-relevant movement that continues to tell unique and important stories such as this.