"Juno" feels like a movie churned out by irresponsible, incompetent corporate hipsters for up-and-coming ever-more-shallow teenage hipsters. It has nothing to say about pregnancy (though it seems to be pro-life, whatever that means to you), does not take the responsibility of teen pregnancy seriously, is not realistic in its character portrayals, the script does not function to transmit the story, and it is not ever funny (yes, it actually makes "Knocked Up" look like a masterpiece). Of course, I was only watching "Juno" to make sure I, uh... yeah I don't know why I watched it.
Honestly, this movie felt like a big slap in the face. This won an Oscar for its screenplay? I don't have high hopes for Oscar ceremonies but good grief! Apparently this was written by a twenty-something ex-stripper, ex-blogger who goes by the name Diablo Cody. Not that I have anything against her past professions or hobbies, but this writing is vapid, jerky, amateur and betrays a nihilistic vanity that tries to trade dopey Suicide Girl/Indie-rock cuteness for cleverness. Most of the dialog consists of internet slang or currently hip things to say amongst white suburban indie-rock/punk-ish kids who go to college or live in a group-house. In other words, this is the pinnacle of corporate sludge being marketed as counter-culture. It's feeding regurgitated jokes to the same people who already use them.
It's not just the dialog. The whole movie is emblazoned by this: the music is a constant barrage of Elliott Smith rip-off artists (who are exceptionally dopey and spoiled sounding) and the costumes and sets look like really grimy versions of a Wes Anderson movie, maybe combined with the aesthetic of that old MTV show, "Daria" (although don't be confused by my assessment, since Daria was actually a decent show with a message -- it's just the aesthetic that has been copied). And Juno really relies on music to both indicate the emotional texture of the scenes (spoiled, whiny, fake cuteness) and to transition between them.
By the time the movie is halfway finished, you're just praying for someone to shut Ellen Page's character up. I guess she's supposed to be spunky or wise or some other completely irrelevant fake adjective for her obviously insecure and depressing character. I really don't know or care. I do know that the most important relationship in the movie -- the one between her and Michael Cera (here playing a character that acts just like Michael Cera) -- is given the least amount of attention of any relationship in the movie. It's brushed-over, undynamic and undeveloped. What gives?
Man, this movie actually seems malicious. It's like if someone made a nihilistic bubbly comedy about how having a baby is made of win. Yes, made of win. But unfortunately this movie is made of epic fail.
Honestly, this movie felt like a big slap in the face. This won an Oscar for its screenplay? I don't have high hopes for Oscar ceremonies but good grief! Apparently this was written by a twenty-something ex-stripper, ex-blogger who goes by the name Diablo Cody. Not that I have anything against her past professions or hobbies, but this writing is vapid, jerky, amateur and betrays a nihilistic vanity that tries to trade dopey Suicide Girl/Indie-rock cuteness for cleverness. Most of the dialog consists of internet slang or currently hip things to say amongst white suburban indie-rock/punk-ish kids who go to college or live in a group-house. In other words, this is the pinnacle of corporate sludge being marketed as counter-culture. It's feeding regurgitated jokes to the same people who already use them.
It's not just the dialog. The whole movie is emblazoned by this: the music is a constant barrage of Elliott Smith rip-off artists (who are exceptionally dopey and spoiled sounding) and the costumes and sets look like really grimy versions of a Wes Anderson movie, maybe combined with the aesthetic of that old MTV show, "Daria" (although don't be confused by my assessment, since Daria was actually a decent show with a message -- it's just the aesthetic that has been copied). And Juno really relies on music to both indicate the emotional texture of the scenes (spoiled, whiny, fake cuteness) and to transition between them.
By the time the movie is halfway finished, you're just praying for someone to shut Ellen Page's character up. I guess she's supposed to be spunky or wise or some other completely irrelevant fake adjective for her obviously insecure and depressing character. I really don't know or care. I do know that the most important relationship in the movie -- the one between her and Michael Cera (here playing a character that acts just like Michael Cera) -- is given the least amount of attention of any relationship in the movie. It's brushed-over, undynamic and undeveloped. What gives?
Man, this movie actually seems malicious. It's like if someone made a nihilistic bubbly comedy about how having a baby is made of win. Yes, made of win. But unfortunately this movie is made of epic fail.