Movie Review: Juno

Movies and concerts are the perfect places to go alone. The lights are out, no one is supposed to talk anyway, and all attention in the room is directed toward one far-off point. And so I saw Juno. After Scooby Snacks left town, I made plans to hang out with a friend, but when he had to work late, I decided to hop on BART and head into San Francisco for the movie that was getting some of the best reviews I had seen all year.

Speaking of which, I made the mistake of reading an article in Slate before leaving work. Thanks for the damn spoiler alert Ann Hulbert. I've decided that writers who divulge the end of the movie are tantamount to that friend that DEMANDS you watch her favorite movie with her (you know, the movie you've never seen, and she just CANNOT believe you've never seen it! "We're going to Blockbuster NOW!" she tells you) and then she says every line a millisecond before the characters on the screen do. "I can't help myself!" She confesses, and because she's your friend, you love her anyway.

But Ann, we're not friends, and I'm still kind of mad at you.

But back to the movie. It was the perfect diversion for a night alone. The movie revolves around Juno (Ellen Page), a spitfire of a 16-year-old, who gets pregnant after an awkward romp with the goofy Paulie Bleeker (Michael Cera). Stripper-turned-screenwriter Diablo Cody handled the topic of teen pregnancy with just the right balance of gravity and absurdity. Most importantly though, she did a wonderful job of portraying the complexities of people and their relationships.

As Juno decides to give her baby up for adoption to a well-to-do couple, even the new parents, who at first seem like stereotypical yuppies, turn into rich characters with palpable emotions. Incidentally, Jennifer Garner (who plays the yuppie wife) just melted my heart in this movie mere seconds after I had written her off as a stock character. The relationship between Juno and her father (played by J.K. Simmons) was also especially touching as he struggled with the balance of showing his disappointment, yet also demonstrating his love. I always suspected that the man who played Dr. Emil Skoda had skills, but when he sweetly referred to himself as "your old D-A-D," I wanted to reach through the screen and give him a bear hug.

Still, there was something that nagged me about Juno. What was it? I wasn't gushing about the movie the way everyone else was, and it took me a while to figure out why. Of course, in the week in which I saw Atonement AND No Country for Old Men, it would be hard for another movie to compare.

But there were two things that I normally love, but found somewhat bothersome in this movie: Music and Quirkiness.

I love some good quirk as much as the next person, but when it's self-conscious, I find it distracting. For example, Juno has a hamburger phone. "How funny," I thought to myself. "I haven't seen one of those since the '80s." But when Juno later refers to the fact that she is talking on a hamburger phone, what was once a cute little touch, now feels forced somehow.

I felt that the music followed the same path. Not all movies can, or should, carry without a score like No Country for Old Men. But the music should be seamlessly integrated into the film and it should add to the general feel without calling attention to itself; never should the music be used as a crutch. The dialogue and the scenes should evoke the laughter and the tears, not the music (except with that hilarious singing duo in There's Something About Mary).

And I am a fan of Indie rock, but the variety in Juno had such precious lyrics that it started to feel like a cheap trick, a la Garden State. You know what I'm talking about; you saw the movie and wondered, "why am I feeling so emotional as I stare at three people standing on top of a van and yelling?" And then you realized that it was because you were listening to a most powerful beautiful crescendo in one of the best Simon & Garfunkel songs.

So that made me wonder if the lyrics were making up for something. As I heard The Velvet Underground sing "I'm sticking with you," I began to question why I had to hear that sentiment from Lou Reed and not from one of the characters in the movie.