I finally saw Juno. I want to cover a few things that I found remarkable — the slang, the adoptive parents and the decision to have the baby. Since I tend to see movies well after they've made it to DVD, I'm not really reviewing them. This is my analysis, what I got out of the film, so I'm going to write about the occasional ending or surprise plot element.
Diablo Cody got a lot of flack from the blogosphere for her slang-filled script. Folks felt that the characters and, by extension, the screenwriter were smarter than they were. I was prepared for word associations that sounded clever, but fell flat or were flatly indecipherable. I thought the dialog was sparkling and the only use of slang was between Juno and her best friend and the occasional slang when around adults. Stepping back to look at the big picture, Juno (the movie) is more modern fairy tale than it is realistic. That said it's great that Juno uses a completely unreal slanguage — some of it real but much of it made up I imagine. I was reminded of A Clockwork Orange with its slavic-heavy slang that required context for a full understanding. I certainly wish that I had had such a robust slanguage when I was 16, though I'm surely better off for only having used the most common phrasology. In any case, the presence of this second language enhanced the layers of Juno's character. One layer, perhaps the one most visible, is the kid who speaks a made up language to differentiate from the adults around her. A second layer is the kid who can still use proper English because she knows she's only 16, but wants to identify with the adults around her. I think a third is the kid who is speechless, despite her motormouth, because of the suddenly adult challenge of carrying and delivering a child — one that will belong to someone else. I think the slang is an integral part of this beautiful film.
Another integral part of Juno, one that I didn't fully realize would be so well defined, is that of the adoptive parents, Mark and Vanessa Loring. I haven't endured the challenge and the heartbreak of trying and trying and failing to conceive. I do, however, know those who have. For the families that are in tact in the end, after all the trying — over some years — and the IVF and the adoption planning and waiting hopefully they are stronger. These days many people wait until later in life to start their families. That wait can be a fight against both the biological clock and the biological possibility of conceiving — the older the parents, the harder it is to get pregnant. One other difficulty can be that while the prospective mom is physically committed to the lengthy and stressful process, the dad — who can only be a supporter, a cheerleader — can begin to resent the eventual responsibility. That's quite a burden. Well, that burden is evident in the writing and portrayal of the Lorings. Mark is happyish at what he does, but he's a prisoner in his own home — albeit a beautiful one. His cherished mementos of other, happier times are put away in their "own room" or packed away in the basement. The result is a house that is orderly and the product of Vanessa — whether it contains any real mementos for her isn't covered. She is a hard worker who doesn't understand what's happened to her husband. They both talk about the baby, but he's set in the background using body language that suggests he doesn't want it. They've endured the excruciating attempts at conceiving and adopting from a surrogate only to meet failure again and again. The clincher, after much drama and a twist, comes at the end. Spoiler: Vanessa goes to meet her new son and she is like ice — a blend of fear and incredulity that this is her baby, that she is finally a mother — but she melts at the newborn's touch. The transformation to mother is completed by Juno's stepmother admiring presence in the door of the nursery — she's technically the grandmother after all. All of Vanessa's suffering at failing to become a mother is replaced by the beauty of her baby boy.
That leads me to Juno's decision to have the baby in the first place. I've read that folks interpreted carrying the baby as an anti-choice message, somewhat supported by Juno's quick escape from a Planned Parenthood-like clinic, though I think it was mostly the MSM. Other folks were offended by the subject matter. I'm more interested in this notion that the script was somehow anti-choice. It wasn't. First of all, dramatically and comedically the story is about a girl who decides to carry a baby to term and to find a couple to adopt it. Whatever political messaging there might be, the story can't include an abortion. In any case, Choice, with a capital "C", is about choice not automatically having an abortion. Certainly, Juno's first decision is to end the pregnancy, though her girlfriend is too matter of fact and the father of the baby is too bewildered and still a boy to know how to comfort her. His reaction moves almost imperceptibly from stun to relief, probably still reeling from the hormonal wackiness of having had sex with Juno in the first place. While at the clinic, where the receptionist is psychotic and overly attentive yet somehow dismissive, the atmosphere is crude and discomforting. This probably owes more to a typical lack of funding and heavy community work probably than to a disregard for the comfort of the patients. Anyway, with no support apparatus Juno freaks and bolts. Choice is paramount, but some choices just cannot be casually made when you're a 16 year old all alone. In the following parent sit-down scene she tells the truth about her pregnancy then correctly deduces that her stepmother prefers that she keep the baby with a quick lie about considering an abortion. Her support was still her own family, no matter how grown up she might have felt, and their rules and aspirations drove her decisionmaking. Whatever the political motive, the choice to keep the baby makes the story.
Lastly, I want to mention how exciting it is that alongside new, unknown directors there is a new generation of Hollywood directors born of the last generation: Sofia Copolla, Jake Kasdan and, in this case, Jason Reitman (I'm sure there are others, but these are off the top of head). Their vision is fresh, informed by their illustrious parents yet full of unique viewpoints. They appreciate the skill of a good photographer, they can make the most out of a script and they can elicit performances out of their actors that receive the highest regard. Think Bill Murray's turn in Lost in Translation or John C. Reilly in Walk Hard or Ellen Page — and Michael Cera, Allison Janney, J.K. Simmons, Jason Bateman or Jennifer Garner for that matter — in Juno. Bravo!
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