It is pretty much understood that most independent films, particularly ones made by first time directors and writers, will not gather much of an audience. They may bring it around the festival circuit, or they may get a few open-minded fans, and if they’re really lucky, they can find a good distributor, sell enough tickets to keep the producers happy, and gather enough credibility to finance their next project. But every once in a while, such a independent film (usually a comedy) comes along and makes it very, VERY big. I’m talking about hundreds of millions in box office revenue and a multitude of media attention. In 2006, there was Little Miss Sunshine; before that, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and most recently, it was Juno.
Good luck exploring the infinite abyss, Braff. (I’ll explain how this is relevant)
Anyone who ventured outside of the comfortable confines beneath a rock in the past few months has probably heard of Juno. It’s a simple film — girl gets pregnant, girl decides against an abortion, girl looks for cool graphics designer with Asian girlfriend who rocks out on the bass guitar to adopt the child, girl finds Jason Bateman instead, and hilarity ensues. It was all over entertainment news, magazines, talk shows, and of course, the almighty blogosphere, so I won’t waste your time on details.
Like with everything popular in well… popular culture, they always generate some amount of backlash. In this case, the bitterness is directed towards writer Diablo Cody (the shiny Oscar only exacerbate the hostility). Perhaps they feel betrayed when the movie does not live up their hyped-up expectations, or maybe it’s resentment towards the sudden influx of attention and money for some girl who spent a year as a stripper. While I don’t outright hate Juno, I definitely think there are some issues.
I often associated Juno with two other movies, Garden State, and Elizabethtown. All three movies are about young people discovering the world, made with ambition, can be categorized as romantic comedies, yet somehow not quite fold into the mold. Most importantly, they disappointed me for the same reason – they failed to suspend my beliefs. I don’t expect every film to be every bit as realistic as real life (That would be just boring!) , and I certainly did not expect any of these particular films to be realistic. I can accept something if that is what I am asked to do, but if they try to back up their claims with only fuzzy logic, pseudoscience, or plot holes, that’s when I have a problem. If you tell me that superman flies around magically, that’s fine with me. I don’t need an explanation. If you tell me that Iron Man can achieve a similar kind of flight, however, by attaching rocket boosters to his limbs, that’s when the questions are raised.
Elizabethtown, Garden State, and Juno all led to the same inevitable disappointment, though in subtly different ways.
I had always been a fan of Cameron Crowe’s previous works, including, but not limited to, Almost Famous and Vanilla Sky. Though I do feel cheated by the eventual outcome in Vanilla Sky, and that everything up to the end (without giving too much away) was robbed of its dramatic weight, I can accept it. It does not tread in the pretense of realism, but rather, goes beyond that, bordering the realm of surrealism. That is more than I can say about Elizabethtown. It sets up the story of Orlando Bloom, who has returned to small town America after making a careering-crippling decision (and the worst attempted suicide depicted on film) to rediscover the meaning of life. That’s some pretty heavy material. One might expect a down-to-earth depiction of life similar to an Alexander Payne movie, but instead, the events that take place, from the arrival of Kirsten Dunst’s character to the success of the shoes, just became progressively less believable, and worse yet, all while keeping a straight face.
There’s no doubt that music plays a major role in Crowe’s films. In Vanilla Sky, several scenes are inspired by album covers, and in Almost Famous, well, you get the idea. In Elizabethtown, however, the role of the music isn’t as pronounced. It feels more like a cross-section of his own iPod rather than a movie soundtrack (a problem shared by Garden Sate). Whatever significance the songs may have for Crowe is not communicated to audience.
There are a number of striking similarities between Elizaebethtown and Gardent State aside from the music. Garden State is also about a young man, played by writer/director Zach Braff, who goes back to his home town hoping to fill a void in his life, and in doing so, meets the love of his life. It is rather improbable to say that any of the events depicted in the movie would actually happen in a more realistic world, but are certainly within the limitations of the premise. On their own, they are not so ridiculously unbelievable as those in Elizabethtown. You may even say that I appreciate this film, that is, if it did not reek so much of condescension. It trips over its own hypocrisies when it smugly claims to have any insight on life. Herein lies the contradiction; life doesn’t have such neat resolutions, it is not a wonderful and mysterious journey, and sometimes when you stare into the infinite abyss, you can get a glimpse of what’s beneath. It’s only a matter of time before that pretty girl you just met gets a epileptic seizure and falls off the back of your bike.
Now we’ve come full circle back to Juno. The biggest problem here, is the heavy presence of the screenwriter that keeps the audience at a distance. As opposed to being presented with a story, the audience is constantly reminded that they are watching a movie. It feels as if Cody is trying to jam too many ideas into the few pages. I don’t have trouble believing that a sixteen year old girl can throw out quick witty remarks. I don’t have trouble believing that all the characters around her speak with the same quirky sense of humor. I do, however, have a problem with the volume they come in, and the portion that ultimately fall flat. Instead of being left to marvel at clever lines, I am left pondering why they’re included in the first place. As a result I would not get emotionally attached to any of the characters, and become unsympathetic toward their goals. To this film I say, make up your mind and cut off some fat, as it only makes you look desperate for attention. The opening scene alone, the one with Dwight, is just down right cringe-inducing.
I almost feel guilty for not liking Juno. I respect Diablo Cody and Jason Beitman tremendously and think they have a knack for whatever it is that they do. It’s almost too easy to dislike something so popular, and more than once while I was writing this down I questioned my own motivations. In the end, I’d much rather see Juno get the attention rather than the formulaic star vehicles we see every other week.
