2014 brought us many indie gifts, but none more important than Donna Stern, played by  offbeat star Jenny Slate, in Gillian Robespierre’s Obvious Child. It’s been a while since audiences have been treated to a female protagonist as funny, messy, awkward and undeniably sympathetic as Donna. She’s a 20-something Brooklynite who aspires to be a comedian, but moonlights as a clerk in a fledging bookstore. Thanks to Slate’s incredibly self-assured, but vulnerable performance, viewers can easily identify with Donna as she deals with the chaos that comes with figuring out who she wants to be.

When we first meet Donna, she is an aspiring comedienne in the middle of a stand up set. It is at that moment that Slate has to hook in the audience for the film to work. With her big hair and a simple white tank top, Slate is phenomenal. Her Donna comes across as crass, but sweet and honest.  Punctuated by nervous laughter, Donna’s joke about a conversation with her asshole about not farting around her boyfriend to keep up a facade that’s she perfect in their relationship humanizes the character and makes her someone the audience can root for.

Through Slate’s fully realized performance, Donna serves as a beacon of hope for all 20 somethings treading water. 

When her boyfriend later breaks up with her in the comedy club’s dirty bathroom, Slate effectively conveys Donna’s heartbreak and confusion with a quivering lip and subtle tears. Donna goes through the typical  downward spiral after a breakup, like drinking wine for breakfast and stalking her ex-boyfriend, but Slate never lets her character descend into pathos—the audience commiserates with her rather than pitying her.

In the wrong hands, the character of Donna could be insufferable, but Slate channels all of her insecurities and self-loathing into something relatable and even charming. Slate’s physical sense of the character is also striking.  Donna wears baggy clothes and big sweaters throughout the film, symbolizing her disordered state of mind. In every sense, Slate’s Donna is a lovable mess. We’ve all been there.

(WARNING: SPOILERS BELOW) Slate’s Donna briefly unravels when a one-night-stand with Max (Jake Lacy) turns into an unplanned pregnancy. However, this is the 21st century and Donna has choices. As Donna seeking an abortion in a cold and unfriendly doctor’s office, Slate masterfully projects Donna’s awkward feelings and her nervousness, but she also conveys Donna’s resolve and the fact that she is never unsure of her decision—a truly modern heroine. In that scene, Slate’s Donna officially begins her journey out of the prolonged adolescence that most 20 something Brooklynites perpetually find themselves in and into adulthood.

Interestingly, throughout the film, Slate’s Donna is  comfortable only on-stage (she reveals her planned abortion to Max as part of her routine). So it is crucial that Slate is able to convey Donna’s exceptional comedic presence as she shares her angst and talks through her anxieties  She ends her set by making pointed eye contact with the crowd and shifting subtly to the positive: “I think it's going to be okay. And afterwards, I'll just be in my future. And, you know, we'll go from there, right?”

Through Slate’s fully realized performance, Donna serves as a beacon of hope for all 20 somethings treading water. Slate shows audiences that it’s okay to be confused or be uncomfortable in their own skins. Moments of clarity can come in the midst of the most unexpected and dire of circumstances.