I had a rant-heavy blogpost at the ready tonight, dealing with fine particle air pollution (um, there was indoor recess today because the air is unsafe for children to inhale?!), delving into a frustrating conversation with my daughter’s father (who told me that by playing Santa I was perpetuating a colossal evil myth, thus our child would grow up to believe I was a corrupt liar?!) and finishing up with a nice little tidbit about the massive migraine that left me reeling in bed for 73 minutes earlier this evening. But I’d rather write about Juno.
I was given free passes to see Juno at Sundance last night and I shared the wealth with two of my dearest friends and fellow single moms. It’s rare that stars align (read: childcare lines up) so that we can all hang out, and we planned to arrive a little earlier to chat before the movie began. Rolling up to Sundance we discussed the upscale vibe of the revamped Hilldale shopping center. L’Occitane, The North Face, and [oh-how-I-covet-thy-wares] Anthropologie gleamed to our left, hugged by a parade of new restaurants. Sundance has really upped the ante over there. At least that section of the parking lot is reminiscent of Park City, Utah; you know, the Park City I’ve seen numerous times on TV.
We traded our free passes in for tickets. I was irked that this show was a guaranteed sellout as a promotional premiere, yet was also the only movie I’ve been to at Sundance where I did not have the privilege to reserve a seat. But ’twas a free movie at a posh place, so I’m not complaining.
The ladies and I headed upstairs to the bar for a pre-show snack and a few drinks. I’ve eaten at the bar there before and the food was decent. Last night everything was perfect. We had a small array of appetizers, including a decadent pear/gorgonzola/toasted walnut/spinach/pasta dish that was meltingly fabulous (and I say that as a staunch pasta hater). Even though the place was bustling and there was only one bartender and one server on, the service was quick and impeccable. I had no idea that Sundance allows food and drinks from the bar into the theater! We got some snazzy coffee drinks to bring into Juno which was a definite improvement on my typical Diet Mountain Dew.
The movie was written by Diablo Cody, whose rise to fame was catalyzed by her memoir, Candy Girl, a detailed and irreverent account of the feisty Gen Xer as a stripper in the Cities. I’ve kept up with her blog from time to time since hearing of her book. As a screenwriter she’s golden (and she’s got the Globe nomination to prove it). The movie was nuanced in a way that was, at times, almost completely subtle (I’ll just say: panties clutched in his hand) and at times in-your-face awkward (“pork swords”?!). It’s an echo of real life, especially real life while in high school.
And real life is what this movie’s all about. I know every mother in the audience could relate to the transformation of the main character from independent autonomous human being to freakishly huge womb-for-rent. Likewise, every teen and everyone who’d ever been a teen had to have found something relatable in the trials and tribulations of maturation. So pretty much the whole audience was covered. To that end, if, for some reason, there was someone watching Juno who had never had a moment of discomfort in high school, nor were they a mother, chances are the stellar soundtrack would grab them (because chances are, with a charmed life like that, they are a music snob). Kimya Dawson did the music for the film and not only is it obviously hand-picked, the DIY sound wove around the storyline like it was written right along with the screenplay. Huh. Maybe it was. Actually some of the music was written into the story… but I’m not a spoiler. So there.
At one point I winced and thought I was getting old. I am so not hip to the expressions the kids these days are using, I thought, after hearing Juno say “do me a solid” and “for shizz” and a few other phrases that confused me. Then I realized that her quirky posturing was a big part of the movie’s charm. I wasn’t out of touch, she was being ironic. Sent up as a big fat example for her whole generation, she was following theirs language-wise. The effect was hilarious. And touching for someone like me, who grew up, dork-style, a complete social outcast (minus the adorable male friend to make out with and play guitar with– did I mention he’s played by Michael Cera? Yeah, no, not the guy from Superbad. Well, yes, he is from Superbad. But he will always be George Michael to me). Juno could be this generation’s Angela Chase, with a bun in the oven and a little more edge.
I don’t even need to get into how fan-freakin’-tastic the acting is in this movie. Everyone’s been buzzing about Ellen Page for ages, Michael Cera’s on the upswing,then there’s veteran character actor J.K. Simmons, primetime’s Allison Janney, star power provided by Jennifer Garner, and of course Jason Bateman (a.k.a. Michael Bluth, a.k.a. my future husband).
*this is probably way obvious by now but I simply cannot hold back from saying that I will never forgive television execs (I will not mention the name of their ridiculously horrible network) for canceling Arrested Development. How. Dare. They. I still carry a torch.
Upon leaving I felt refreshed and renewed. Not the way I expected to feel after a movie exploring teen pregnancy. But there you have it. Some are saying that the film falls flat, lack of drama, doesn’t delve into the real issues, blah blah blah etc. To that I say that the movie came off to me like reality with a really great soundtrack and some excellent props (namely a hamburger phone and some orange tic-tacs) and in reality, there are a million Junos. The naysayers probably don’t believe it, because they don’t want to believe that teenagers can be well-adjusted and make good decisions, even in the most difficult circumstances. But even naysayers must admit that the caricatures in this movie are dead-on, from the daddy-to-be who can’t let go of his own childhood or his pipe dreams to the step-mom who owns a nail salon and has lofty aspirations to one day own a wiemaraner.
Nope, the movie’s not just worth seeing because of Page’s star turn or Cody’s screenplay. It’s got a bigger message than that– the message that humanity, flawed as it may be, usually prevails. Some take the high road, while others duck out the back door, but ultimately, decisions that one makes never just fade away. It doesn’t matter how old or experienced someone is, it’s whether or not they can come to terms with that fact. I know this sounds a little obtuse but watch the movie and I think you’ll understand.
Anyway, upon leaving I ran into a gaggle of teens clutching t-shirts. Apparently they’d been given some promo merch while waiting to get in. I bemoaned the fact that as a single mother, perhaps I deserved a t-shirt more than they did. One guy took pity and said, “Here, hey, sure, you can have it.”
But it was ugly and huge so I let him keep it.
I could say more but my neck aches and my bed beckons. Plus I’m of the opinion that reviews can ruin a movie. Suffice to say that in the end we’ve all chosen our own miracles, consciously or not.
