So much could have gone wrong with Juno, it’s a miracle so little does. What seems at the offset another (capital letter) Quirky Comedy from Indie-Land sheds off its artifice and blossoms into something much more: a minor masterpiece with ample amounts of the unguarded heart missing from so many films of its kind.
A warning: What makes the film so wonderful is how consistently it surprises — consistently plucking unexpected laughter from the audience as if on a string — so only the basics of the plot will be revealed here. But in vaguest terms, Juno (Ellen Page) is a Midwestern high school junior who accidentally becomes pregnant by her friend Bleeker (Michael Cera). Not ready to be a mother and horrified of an abortion after a nightmarish visit to a clinic, she decides to give the baby to an affluent, seemingly perfect couple (Jason Bateman and Jennifer Garner).
Such a first act could lend itself to many genres and tones, so what exactly is Juno? Is it a high school comedy? Is it an indie-esque, quirky affair? Movie buffs have long lamented the current state of those two genres; most recoil at their mention. Yet Juno reminds us just why the Twilight Zone of high school can reap such profound bounty for character-driven comedy, and just how fun quirky things can be when they aren’t ruined by trying to be (again, big letter) Quirky.
That’s the thing: after a shaky, trying-too-hard opening, the film (directed by Jason Reitman) becomes surprisingly warm, thanks mostly to Ellen Page’s effortlessly brilliant performance, and those of her parents, J.K. Simmons and Allison Janney. It’s almost shocking the parents aren’t merely “types,” as so often happens in indie or high school films. Indeed, they’re portrayed as people who have real lives, lives that sometimes — shock, horror! — have nothing whatever to do with their kids.
Michael Cera, too, nearly manages to steal the show; his wide-eyed wonder (or is it terror, or ambivalence . . . or something else entirely?) at the situation he finds himself in is sublime, and a fine counterpart to Juno’s motor-mouthed reactions. And though Jennifer Garner will likely be lost in the massive shadows the leads cast, she too has given a graceful performance here, imbuing a character that could have been one-note with layer after layer.
Some critics have praised this as a spiritual successor to Ghost World — another story of an acid-tongued disaffected teen girl — but that praise seems off-mark: Ghost World’s Enid is more hopeless than Juno, more cynical, and far less open to the wide-eyed wonders love can do in any circumstance.
Has there been a better film about high school this millennia than Juno? Not really. The promise of Brick was undone by its cumbersome, forced noir artifice, and even Mean Girls could not leave the audience with more than a handful of moments to remember after the theatre lights came back on. The key here? Juno is an authentic original whose only stumble is that in the beginning, we’re so struck by how very peculiar it is it’s hard to get a handhold. Not since Wes Anderson dazzled all with his seminal Rushmore has a film like this been so effective, with such an unforgettable character anchoring it all in.
Max Fischer, previously thought peerless, has now not only a peer but a contender to the throne.
Let the endless quoting of this film’s jet-quick dialogue - courtesy of razor-witted screen writer Diablo Cody - across America’s film campuses commence.