From there, Shiva Baby becomes a gruelling and often hilarious exercise in anxiety, built from the stuff of nightmares. At the shiva, Danielle has to deal with her well-meaning but meddlesome parents (Fred Melamed and Polly Draper, both brilliantly funny), her over-achieving ex-girlfriend Maya (Molly Gordon), strict social etiquette, sexual taboos, shrieking children, and what feels like half the New York Jewish community prying about her studies, her sex life, and, above all, her weight. Her mother remarks: ‘You look like Gwyneth Paltrow on food stamps, and not in a good way.’ No wonder the poor girl’s already a basket case in her early twenties. This is all before Max arrives, completely unaware that his ‘baby’ would be at the shiva. And then his wife arrives – with their actual baby.

The film keeps finding new and inventive ways to ratchet up its characters’ discomfort, as Danielle and Max play a nerve-wracking game of psychological cat-and-mouse in full view of their parents and partners. Danielle is horrified to discover that all of Max’s gifts and money have been siphoned from his entrepreneur wife, the svelte, blonde ‘shiksa princess’ Kim (an ice-cold Dianna Agron). Max seems equally annoyed to learn that his mistress, whom he thought he was putting through legal school with his monetary contributions, is instead something of a drifter with vague aspirations in the art world, currently ‘studying gender’ (or ‘the business of gender’, as Danielle would say). Max’s presence, and the appearance of his well-heeled wife and cherubic blonde baby, tips Danielle into what feels like a very long tailspin. At the shiva, her self-destructive tendencies and impending meltdown are on display for all to see and scrutinise.

Sennott’s performance as Danielle is both very funny and beautifully measured, as a woman whose snide exterior belies a deep well of self-doubt. She’s in every frame of the film, and there isn’t a single shot in which she doesn’t look, sound, or feel uncomfortable – the way her eyes dart around the shiva, how she tugs at her clothing and picks at the catering table. As the day wears on, her skin becomes waxy, her expression and her mannerisms almost feverish. She impales herself on furniture, strips down to send Max nude photos from the bathroom, switches from vegetarianism to eating meat, and generally exudes the late pubescent energy of a child who has suddenly found herself in an adult woman’s body. It also becomes apparent that ‘sugaring’ might not really be Danielle’s strong suit; for all we know, Max is her only ‘daddy’, and rather than leveraging his wealth to get ahead in life, she’s fallen for him. The way she stares at him across the room while he tends to his young, beautiful family conveys a sense of deep betrayal that likely wouldn’t exist if their relationship were strictly professional.

Seligman’s brisk and witty script is enhanced even further by one key choice: her supporting characters are all shrewdly intelligent, perceptive, and hyper-aware of the interpersonal dynamics in any given room. This may be a farce, but its characters aren’t clowns. Every distant aunt and elderly neighbour proves themselves a deft interrogator, ready and eager to unspool Danielle’s little white lies with their relentless probing. Using this claustrophobic energy, Seligman gradually steers the film into psychological thriller territory; cinematographer Maria Rusche’s wide-angle close-ups and composer Ariel Marx’s jangly score combine to repaint the simple suburban setting into an inescapable horror show of unbearable forced etiquette and social expectation.

Even at a brisk eighty minutes, Shiva Baby runs the risk of repeating itself in these tense set-pieces: Danielle gets stuck in a polite conversation; someone pries into her personal life; someone else catches her out in a lie; the tension becomes unbearable; something spills or breaks. And repeat. Once the film has mined its initial premise for its full comic potential, it begins to spin its wheels trying to find new ways for Danielle to self-sabotage. Shiva Baby’s resolution is ultimately less gratifying than its set-up, possibly a consequence of the feature film arising from Seligman’s 2018 short film of the same name. Nevertheless, this is a smartly realised and fabulously well-acted chamber comedy that not only understands how to make people laugh, but also what makes them tick.

Shiva Baby is screening in select cinemas on August 5.