Directed by Andrea Dorfman
Written by Jennifer Deyell
Starring Chelsea Peretti, Susan Kent and Amy Groening
Running time: 1 hour and 27 minutes

by Emily Maesar

Spinster is a film that somebody needs, unfortunately that person wasn’t me. 

It’s hard to find the words to write about a perfectly fine film, but that doesn’t stop you from having to do it. Films that fall in the middle of the sliding scale of objective and subjective goodness (two different scales, for sure, but I think this film falls around the same place on both) are hard to peg down because neutrality isn’t a particularly strong emotion. I know this. You know this. I think we’re all on the same page about it, because that page is nearly blank and we’re all moving on to better books.

So, what about Spinster makes it solid, but not tip the scale in any direction?  Well, the plot is interesting and pretty well done. The film is about a year in the life of a woman named Gaby (Chelsea Peretti). We start on her 39th birthday, where she loses a catering job and her current boyfriend of three months dumps her. He fully just moves out of the apartment that’s in his name without telling her. From there, Gaby spends the next year trying to date (it’s messy and never quite works right), reconnecting with her brother and niece (her niece more so) and tries to start a restaurant with money from her father (since she seemingly won’t be getting married).

All of these story beats are nice and Peretti shines as a subdued character who’s funny at times but not trying to be. It’s a welcome change of pace from other features that star stand-ups and, while Gaby is a similar level of ornery to other Peretti roles, she’s much more down to Earth than, say, Gina on Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

However, I also think the specific writing versus the idea of the plot is what balances the scale of “fine” out. It’s well written in places and the actors are all good and interesting to watch, but it’s almost like the film is too realistic? It feels less like someone wrote a script with connective tissue that propels our lead forward, and more like being at a party with someone who’s telling you a story where you have absolutely no context and you tune out part way through. Some of it’s funny, but mostly it’s just kind of happening. 

I would be remiss, however, if I didn’t mention the way the film looks. The depth of field and lighting in Spinster are off in ways that will remind you of basically every student film (yes, even mine) or a mid-2000’s ultra indie flick. Maybe both. But definitely not in any of the good ways. It feels like it was just kinda shot wherever, without a lot of set dressing or lighting added into the spaces. And that’s certainly not a horrible thing, but it does make the film less interesting to look at, unfortunately. 

There are a few things I really love about the film, the writing and Peretti’s performance in particular. One is the dinner party where Gaby’s 39-year-old, childless existence is called “selfish” by her best friend’s neighbors. It’s really cathartic to watch her reaction because it’s relatable and feels so entirely real. I also think it’s at the core of what this film is trying to say. And as a woman nearing her 30s, who doesn’t want kids, I have a feeling this scene will stick with me for a good long while. I see myself in it, so I really appreciate having it on film.

The other scene I absolutely love is when Gaby’s going for a hike with the cutest dog in the world and meets a guy who’s been lost in the woods all night. It’s a great meet-cute with a lovely scene after that goes the way you’d imagine, but it’s charming and I’m glad it exists in the flick. It’s hopeful, but doesn't send Gaby spiraling when it’s over like it might in a lesser story.

Ultimately, Spinster is fine. It seems like it was a labor of love and it’s filled with good intentions that I don’t think it ever quite fulfills, at least not for me. It’s certainly a film that someone will find and fall deeply in love with, and I hope they find it soon.

Available On Demand Friday, August 7th.