Juno and Making Distinctions

Juno is an okay movie, it is not a good movie.

Last week, a friend asked me, on a scale from one to ten, how fucked our generation is (one being least fucked and ten being most fucked). The safe answer to this question is, "at least an eight or a nine." The two girls at the table gave this answer, while a friend, Nick, responded with the more safe and more rock-n-roll answer, "I don't give a fuck." I asked for more time to think about it.

Though this joke was well received, I was actually quite serious. What a fatal error it would be to quickly dismiss or approve our very own generation. Stimulated by the response of my peers, I was inclined to endorse my generation wholesale. "Less than a 'one'," I would say, "maybe a 'two' if any of you angsty, pseudo nihilists get your hands on the reigns." But lest i be merely a contrarian, I should apply myself to this problem with patient scrutiny.

The question was simple at first: What irks me about this generation? Having just seen the movie Juno, the answer, too, was simple. This is not to say that the movie is what irks me about my generation, though that is also the case. Rather, the problem presents itself, not as a problem of taste, but as a problem of perception. Indeed, the generation who cannot perceive is truly damned.

At times, Juno is almost unwatchable. Most of these moments come about when someone is speaking. Most of the time, the character speaking is Juno (Ellen Page). It is rare that I can walk into a movie theater and hear dialogue that is so offensive to my sensibilities. By this, I do not mean vulgar or crude language, I simply mean that the dialogue poor; poor and deleterious to any emotional commitment on the part of the viewer (me). How am I supposed to care about this chick? Yes, I know she's pregnant. And Yes, I know she's sixteen. But never am I allowed to see how difficult it is for her. Maybe I am allowed to see how difficult it is for her, and I just didn't really believe it. My friends will undoubtedly remind me, "dood, don't you remember when she pulled over to the side of the road and, like, cried?" And, of course I'll be like, "yeah, that was a good scene, or whatever." but it wasn't a good scene. It felt contrived and fake. I felt inclined to lean over to my friend and ask, "why is she crying."

What, then, is the point of this movie? Without the arch of high school girl likes high school boy and gets high school pregnant, the movie just becomes high school girl likes high school boy. That movie is great, it's called Superbad or Sixteen Candles. But Juno can't be that movie cause Page is walking around with a pregnant suit on, pretending to be pregnant and when we're watching a movie about highschool lovers it's because we want to see high school breasts. And, when women get pregnant, their nipples turn brown. Seriously though, the dialogue took away from my ability to believe that the Characters where in a crisis. It was totally distracting and maybe even rude. It was like if someone was eating an apple when they told you that a family member died. If I was once a pregnant teen, I would be offended by this movie. "Stop telling this story while you're eating a fuckin apple," I would say. "Show some respect."

Unfortunately, some of my friends don't agree with me. That's fine. Like the movie. Love the movie. But love the movie for what it is: a trite, sometimes-funny, sometimes-inspirational load of angsty bullshit. Be aware of what you like and why you like it. Pay attention. Do not tell me about 'oscar buzz,' or 'new ideas.' There is nothing new about the film Juno (and I do not mean in the way that nothing is new), it is a recreation of something that was once new and different. As an insightful friend said, "Juno didn't make it, it nailed it." If we cannot tell the difference between, what is the same and what is different, then we are in trouble. If a guy can't tell the difference between a meat burger and a boca burger, he's in trouble. Juno is a boca burger. Like I said before, that's fine if you like boca burgers, but don't put it in my mouth and tell me it's a 'burger.' It's a boca burger. Tell the difference. Make distinctions. Figure things out. If we can perceive a difference when their is none at all, then we are in trouble. Do not tell me that there is a difference between Walmart and Urban Outfitters.