And … the “Title You’ll Least Likely Recall Upon Demand” award goes to … Obvious Child! Hurray! Congratulations! I started calling this film “Ordinary Girl” from the time I left the theater and for the next few days only to be reminded just now that wasn’t it. No, the Jewish Manhattan comedienne, wear-it-all-on-your-sleeve, Obvious Child Donna (Jenny Slate) isn’t ordinary, not by a long shot, but neither is she obvious, nor much of a child in any meaning other than the literal. My title makes just as much sense.
I remember watching an episode of “Twilight Zone” or “Amazing Stories” or some other fool thing about a comedian who spends his post-life eternity in Hell getting laughs on stage by telling patrons how he screwed others over while in our reality. His standard comedy routine never satisfied this crowd, see? His Hell is confessing his personal awful over and over and over again. That’s Donna. She’s a regular at a local night club where she gets up and talks about her life, often about her life from the waist down. And often it’s a TMI nightmare. She’s far more candid than funny – I think that’s the key to her act. It’s painful if you identify with Donna.
While Donna narrated her pathetic sex life, I wondered what her boyfriend thought of the stand-up. Pretty clear that Donna isn’t one of those who exaggerates or plays with the truth. If you come to her shows, you probably will end up knowing exactly how often she has sex, what positions she and her partner prefer, how big his penis is, and how he climaxes. Yeah, I wasn’t surprised to see them break up in the coed public bathroom. I sat through this scene thinking, “they have coed bathrooms in Manhattan night clubs? Really?”
–BTW, is there anything more treacherous in life than breaking up with a comedian? I think you’re bound to be true just to ma
ke sure your name doesn’t get dragged repeatedly through the morass–
Artsy and plot challenged, Obvious Child is childly obvious in aiming towards left-leaning hipsters. For a film aiming to serve this “higher level” of film enthusiast, there’s a tremendous amount of bathroom humor present. Donna is constantly talking about things coming and going from her pelvic region (wish I could report this was quality joke material … meh). In a brief scene before Donna’s drunken indulgence, we enjoy she and her rebound one-night-stand, Max (Jake Lacy), peeing together. Positioned close, but so neither can see the magic, he finishes up by farting very close to her head. This becomes a thing. I swear, it actually kinda turns her on that he farted in her face and then, when prodded, owned up to it. After that, of course, Max? Who’s Max? It’s “Peefarter.”
I don’t mind giving away the plot to Obvious Child for two reasons – the film is character driven, not plot driven. You love the wandering mess that is Donna based much more on who she is than what she does. The second is if you’re on a certain side of a particular fence, you’re probably not going to want to see a woman who so matter-of-factly handles her desire for an abortion. Donna has no direction. Having a baby would be a mistake; she isn’t Frances Ha pathetic, but she can’t really take care of herself, either, let alone a baby. We see that as her audience, but my guess is some will never sympathize.
Donna’s life choices can fester
Her existence is quite the mess-ter
If you value sanity
Make it your plan-ity
Don’t you dare score with a jester
Rated R, 84 Minutes
D: Gillian Robespierre (There are real people with the name “Robespierre?” No shit. Vive la France!)
W: Gillian Robespierre, Karen Maine and Elisabeth Holm
Genre: Abortion
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Frances Ha
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Pro-lifers
