Few contemporary subjects feel as fraught as reproductive rights in America. For filmmaker Ellen Rodnianski, in her feature debut, tackling that conversation in her debut feature American Baby was never about delivering answers. Instead, it was about creating space for questions, contradictions, and empathy.
The film originated from an unlikely place: a Russian short film made years before the issue exploded into the center of American political discourse. “I had my intended first feature come together and fall apart, and I was just really eager to make my first feature,” Rodnianski explains. “This profession is so uneven. There’s no clear staircase.”
That opportunity emerged after the overturning of Roe v. Wade in 2022. “I came back to Growing Pains, my short film that I made in Russia in 2019, which dealt with teenage pregnancy. The subject was newly relevant in the U.S., so I was like perhaps there’s a way to take this short and adapt it to the U.S. Proof of concept. Which always helps in terms of financing.”
Although the feature evolved from the short, she sees them as fundamentally different works. “Growing Pains was essentially, on a broad level, about social apathy in Russia and the people who are the target of that social apathy. Here it’s a bit different. Obviously, I dived deep into the very polarized debate in the U.S. about women’s rights and bodily autonomy.”
What interested her wasn’t taking a familiar position within that debate but examining a perspective she felt cinema often avoids.
“I thought that I had never seen a movie about someone who actually believed that it was a sin,” she says. “It was very interesting to explore because, candidly, as a foreigner, I felt like I could explore it in a way that was less emotional for me. I could just investigate these characters.”
Being a Russian-born filmmaker telling a deeply American story brought its own challenges. Rather than relying on assumptions, she immersed herself in Texas culture through extensive research.
“I spent a lot of time in Texas. I would road trip around Texas and enter Baptist churches and speak to the pastors.”
Those conversations informed not just character motivations but the specific language and rhythms of daily life. “I would just ask them questions about certain subjects that present themselves in this movie,” she says. “What was illuminating wasn’t only what people thought, but how they talked about it. The language of it all is so specific.” Even seemingly small details became essential.
“Things like ‘bless your heart.’ It’s not something I ever heard actually said, but it is very said. That is a common sentence in the South, in small towns particularly.”
The filmmaker jokingly describes her process as “on-the-ground anthropological research,” but beneath the humor was a genuine desire for authenticity.
“I think that was emphasized by an insecurity of being a foreigner and wanting to get it right.”
Why Texas? The choice of setting wasn’t arbitrary.
“I wanted a conservative state,” she explains. “And then I really wanted specificity and details because ultimately the details matter. They make up the whole.”
Texas offered both political relevance and a distinct cultural identity.
“The clothes the characters are wearing, the Texas-specific patriotism on all these T-shirts, the belt buckles, the boots, the line dancing. These things add up in the movie.”
Production ultimately settled in Elgin, Texas, where the filmmakers fully embraced the local environment.
“We shot on location. We really committed to the small town.”
A Documentary Eye
Rodnianski’s search for authenticity extended beyond research and into the film’s visual language. Drawing inspiration from documentary photography and filmmakers like Andrea Arnold, she wanted American Baby to feel less like a traditionally staged drama and more like an observation of real life unfolding.
“I really wanted to ground it in authenticity,” she says. “That feeling is enhanced with this handheld documentary style.”
The approach reflected her broader interest in observation and human behavior. Rather than chasing perfectly composed images, Rodnianski often encouraged cinematographer David Torcivia to keep the camera rolling, allowing unexpected moments to emerge naturally.
“Our visual style was so documentary-film inspired that I always told David to basically have the camera on.”
That observational mindset can be felt throughout the film, particularly in its attention to seemingly insignificant details. Recurring shots of insects, landscapes, and everyday moments create the sense of a world that exists independently of the characters’ conflicts.
“Bugs and stuff were a thing I explicitly focused on because it’s the life that you may not notice, but it’s there and it’s everywhere.”
Rodnianski cites photographers Alessandra Sanguinetti and Justine Kurland as major influences, with Sanguinetti’s long-running series following two cousins in rural Argentina serving as a particularly important reference point for the film’s visual language.
Finding Ollie
At the emotional center of American Baby is Ollie, played by Abigail Pniowsky. Finding her proved daunting.
“I’m not exaggerating when I say that I looked at probably 1,000 girls and nobody was really clicking. I was stubbornly waiting for this little bit of magic.” Then she found her.
“She had an Eastern European last name and the character’s mom was Ukrainian, so that felt authentic to me. It turns out her dad’s family is from Ukraine.” The young actor also arrived with an impressive credit already on her résumé.
“By age ten she was the eight-year-old daughter in Denis Villeneuve‘s Arrival. What a way to start with a bang.”
Still, it was a simple Zoom conversation that sealed it.”It was immediately obvious. She had joie de vivre within her.”
She was equally intentional when casting Toby, resisting the overly polished version of teenage boys often portrayed onscreen. “I always wanted Toby to be your awkward teenage boy because candidly, most of them are your awkward teenage boy.”
She laughs at the repetition of familiar archetypes. “There’s just one category that’s overrepresented in film and television. It’s like the same character every time.”
Complex Conversations
One of the film’s greatest strengths is its refusal to reduce complex issues into simple talking points. The filmmaker admits this balance was something she worried about throughout development.
“I was really worried about the preachiness, to be honest.” To avoid that trap, she focused on nuance. “I tried to complicate the narrative a little. In terms of the pros and cons of ultra-religious communities, there are pros and there are cons. I really tried to balance.”
That complexity extends to Ollie’s mother, a woman whose faith has genuinely helped her survive hardship. “She’s a woman who benefited from her affiliation with this religious community. They helped her with her abusive ex. They positively impacted her life.”
Rather than creating villains or heroes, the film examines how communities can simultaneously provide support and impose limitations.
“I wanted her to be a good mom who’s doing it on her own and just figuring it out.”
Building Bridges Through Storytelling
While American Baby addresses abortion, religion, and teenage pregnancy, the filmmaker believes its broader purpose is about communication itself.
“I think the biggest problem of our day and age is just the inability to argue or disagree civilly.”
Growing up in Eastern Europe shaped that perspective. “Debate and argument is very much promoted, and I think that’s a little bit missing. There’s the right way or not. Very much in culture right now.” For her, storytelling can offer something increasingly rare. “Nuance is very important.”
She continues, “Conversation, when people disagree civilly, that’s when things are okay. The fact that that’s not really happening anymore is a problem.”
It is perhaps this commitment to ambiguity that gives American Baby its power, particularly in its open ending. “I like that open ending because it’s kind of like, did I answer questions? Did I not? It’s all in the eye of the beholder.”
The ending eventually took on another layer of meaning. The filmmaker credits Larry Turman, producer of The Graduate and former head of USC’s Stark Program, as an unexpected influence. Turman passed away during production at age 96.
“The ending kind of felt like an homage to him. It was sort of an accident that that’s how it happened. But I do wonder whether, on some subconscious level, I was like, The Graduate has a terrific open ending. Maybe we go that direction.”
Listening to Young People
Working with teenage actors became one of the most rewarding parts of the process.
Rather than dictate performances, the filmmaker encouraged collaboration and developed unique methods to understand her characters. “I asked all of the kid actors, to make a playlist for their character.”
The exercise revealed emotional dimensions that traditional rehearsals couldn’t access. “Teenagers daydream. It illustrates their interior life in a way that most things can’t.”
The playlists were remarkably distinct. “No characters overlapped even in a song.”
She also prioritized age authenticity, something still surprisingly uncommon in Hollywood. “It’s really important for me. We looked at a lot of actors who were older, but no. We had to have the fifteen-year-old.”
That decision allows the messiness of adolescence to emerge naturally. “She’s a kid in a lot of ways.”
After the Festivals
The response to American Baby has reinforced the filmmaker’s hope that audiences still crave nuanced conversations. The film has connected across political and geographic lines, winning Audience Awards in Austin and the Grand Jury Prize in Dallas.
“I’ve had dads come up to me being like, ‘I saw this with my teenager. It was great.’”
Many encounters have been deeply personal. “The people who come up to me are generally women with their own story or someone else’s story.”
Ultimately, American Baby isn’t interested in telling audiences what to think. It asks them to sit with uncertainty, examine perspectives they may disagree with, and remember that behind every political issue are human beings trying to navigate impossible situations. As she puts it, “My attempt was very much bridge-building.”
In today’s cultural climate, that may be the most radical gesture of all.
We want to thank Ellen Rodnianski for speaking with us.
Does content like this matter to you?
Become a Member and support film journalism. Unlock access to all of Film Inquiry`s great articles. Join a community of like-minded readers who are passionate about cinema – get access to our private members Network, give back to independent filmmakers, and more.
Join now!
