HOLLYWOOD DOES ABORTION (Tribeca 2026) – Review by Valerie Kalfrin

The thought-provoking documentary Hollywood Does Abortion is more like “how Hollywood portrays abortion,” which is to say, skewed toward white teenagers in trouble, if at all.

Assembling creatives such as writer-director Gillian Robespierre (Obvious Child), showrunner and actor Rachel Bloom (Crazy Ex-Girlfriend), producer and writer Zoanne Clack (Grey’s Anatomy, Station 19), along with academics and activists, the film compares portrayals of abortion in film and TV with the political climate of the time and modern health statistics. It debuted at the 2026 Tribeca Film Festival.

While those interviewed have pushed—and sometimes succeeded—in crafting more realistic portrayals of abortion, the majority of depictions involve tropes and falsehoods that often ignore economic and racial factors, the film notes.

For many of those interviewed, the first abortion they remembered onscreen was in 1987’s Dirty Dancing. Yet the film opens with a groundbreaking show for an earlier generation: 1972’s Maude, where the title character (Bea Arthur) considers having an abortion when she’s unexpectedly pregnant later in life. Her daughter, played by Adrienne Barbeau (Creepshow), is supportive, telling Maude it’s a simple operation and she shouldn’t be ashamed.

Watching a clip from that program, Barbeau tears up, reflecting on the progress of women’s rights at the time and the rollback since 2022’s Supreme Court Dobbs decision overruling Roe v. Wade. “We’re not free at all,” she says.

Directed by Emmy nominees Barbara Attie and Janet Goldwater, along with Mike Attie, Hollywood Does Abortion takes the stance that political pressures have shaped depictions of abortion onscreen for decades, creating a cycle of stigma and misinformation. It’s not as if a particular show or film led to certain legislation, the film argues, but that the potency of abortion as a political issue has influenced storylines time and again. Considering I’m hard pressed to remember abortion references beyond those highlighted here (save for perhaps Samantha’s “we’ve all been there” during the first run of Sex and the City), it’s a strong and sobering take.

Legendary TV producer Norman Lear had not just the moxie but the industry power in the 1970s to tell executives about the timely storyline he wanted for Maude. Since then, mainstream films and TV shows have been considered daring for tackling the subject but fallen into several tropes. Characters hemorrhage or die from an abortion (1996’s If These Walls Could Talk, 2021’s Law & Order: SVU); seek opinions about what to do before discovering they’re not really pregnant (1995’s Party of Five); or consider an abortion but opt for motherhood instead (2007’s Knocked Up).

Films like 1982’s Fast Times at Ridgemont High stand out for treating abortion in a simple and matter-of-fact way compared to depictions cloaked in shame and complications. Statistics from Advancing New Standards in Reproductive Health, based at the University of California at San Francisco, show how abortion onscreen compares with real-life situations, where the majority of those seeking abortions are people of color and people living below the poverty line. What’s more, 61 percent are already parents, these statistics say.

Those interviewed applaud producer Shonda Rhimes (Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal, How to Get Away With Murder, and other programs), who like Lear has the clout to insist on telling more realistic abortion storylines. One Grey’s Anatomy Season 19 episode dealt with a woman with an ectopic pregnancy (which is nonviable) having to travel across state lines for lifesaving care. Although applauding independent films such as 2020’s Never Rarely Sometimes Always, Hollywood Does Abortion emphasizes that too often, abortion storylines have been disconnected from real-life hurdles and restrictions, if not reality altogether. (Scenes in Netflix’s Blonde, a fictionalized version of Marilyn Monroe’s life, where the starlet’s aborted fetus chastises her, are as skin-crawling and insulting as that is to type.)

Running an hour and 35 minutes, Hollywood Does Abortion wraps up abruptly, although it touches on how abortion restrictions cause a high maternal mortality rate, a burden that statistics show falls mostly on women of color. (See the excellent 2022 documentary Aftershock.) Still, it’s a powerful assembly of voices who, like Barbeau, want the industry to do better. The topic might be “too hot,” as one put it, but considering audiences digest so much through popular entertainment, those who care about and respect women owe them realistic, responsible work.