Showing posts with label coming of age. Show all posts
Showing posts with label coming of age. Show all posts

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Juno

Juno (4.5/5)

The first question of importance about Juno is, why doesn’t the main character get an abortion? The obvious answer is that an abortion would have simply ended the plot. Sober reality does not mesh with wacky hijinks. It’s important to pause and think about the abortion issue for a minute since it was similarly passed over in Knocked Up. Is this some kind of right to life conspiracy? Hardly, I think it is the simple fact that abortion doesn’t have a place in comedy, while pregnancy is a regular comedic staple even if it’s a pregnant sixteen year-old. Whether you are pro-choice or pro-life, abortion is too complex an issue for a movie about a sardonic teenager. If you’re interested in that kind of a story it would be better to watch Lake of Fire or 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days .

Juno is the title character of the film who winds up Knocked Up by the kid from Superbad, who under any other circumstances would have grown up to be a 40 Year-Old Virgin (where’s my check Judd Apatow!?). After a disastrous visit to a planned pregnancy agency (Juno decides to go to Women Now “because they help women now”) the sixteen year-old decides to carry the child to term. However, instead of keeping the child Juno decides to take responsibility by, conversely, giving the child away to a young yuppie couple who cannot have a child of their own. The issue of teenage pregnancy and premarital pregnancy is both all too common and at the same time commonly feared. Whether you know someone who has been in that situation, have children who could be in that situation, or could be in that situation yourself, it’s a pervasive problem at all levels of society, which in turn makes it perfectly suited for comedy. Too often these off-beat comedies with quirky characters come off as mean spirited or look down on their characters and by extension look down on their audience (*cough* Napoleon Dynamite *cough*). This is not the case with Juno which treats every character as simultaneously flawed and heroic. There is no villain, and even though Juno may fight with her stepmother, her stepmother is not the easy caricature of a joke she would have been in lesser hands, instead she too has her moment of heroics when she defends Juno from a snarky ultrasound technician.

Juno is also one of the few American films to include the subtext of economic class in America. Most movie jobs happen to be something ridiculously specific, like someone who's job is to provides seat fillers for celebrity weddings for when guests don't show up, and at the last minute the director decides a meta-cameo by Julia Roberts is the one thing the film really needs. By contrast Juno's father is an AC repairman. While Juno lives in a cluttered household somewhere in the lower range of middle class, the adopting couple lives in a pristine McMansion, complete with disgustingly cute pictures of themselves that line the staircase. Juno’s stepmother addresses this issue by claiming that the couple could actually be worse parents than Juno would be. There is something of a Brad and Angelina quality to a couple who would lift a child from its less well off roots into a life of means assuming that more money automatically means a better life, but at the same time it would be difficult to argue that a sixteen year old, without an education and whose family may not have the level of finances to provide for a grandchild, would necessarily be the best caretaker for her child. It would have been nice for these issues to be addressed directly by the script instead of quite literally being put into the background through set design, but they are nevertheless present in a film market where class is almost always invisible.

My one complaint is that of the soundtrack. While there are some nice selections like The Kinks, Buddy Holly, and in a pivotal scene Sonic Youth’s “Superstar,” the most common artist, Kimya Dawson, is a little too twee for my tastes. Supposedly Juno is a big fan of bands like The Runaways and The Stooges, but instead of a punk soundtrack we get self-consciously cute acoustic numbers. I will give credit to films like Juno that move beyond the cliché Forest Gump songs, which were obvious and too on the nose to be effective, and mine some previously uncovered gems from The KinksI will also give credit to films that highlight contemporary artists. At the same time, rock music did not die in 1969 and there is more to contemporary indie rock than middling acoustic pop.

Perhaps I’m being greedy, and the more that a filmmaker gives me the more I ask for. I suppose it should be enough to have a film with genuine characters, nuanced humor, and some good rather than great songs.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

The Mysteries of Pittsburgh by Michael Chabon


The Mysteries of Pittsburgh by Michael Chabon (4/5)

Before reading this book I had heard point of references ranging from The Catcher in the Rye to On the Road. After reading the book the comparisons don’t quite mesh. In fact, I think the best point of reference would be The Great Gatsby. Certainly not in quality, I would never make that blasphemous claim for fear the literary gods would strike me down where I stand, but rather there are similarities in structure. Imagine, if you will, a world where, like Gatsby, there are two sets of couples (Nick/Jordan and Tom/Daisy) as well as a love triangle (Gatsby, Tom, and Daisy). Of course, in Chabon’s version Nick is sexually attracted to Gatsby.

Stick with me here. In Mysteries the narrator, Art, enters the social circle of Arthur, Cleveland, and Jane. Cleveland and Jane are a dysfunctional couple embroiled in a good old fashioned love/hate relationship. Art starts seeing Phlox, a rather annoying and unsympathetic homophobe. At the same time Art and Arthur have budding feelings. I’ll diagram it for you:

Art and Arthur (sexual attraction)
Art and Phlox (couple)
Art and Jane/Cleveland (friends through Arthur)
Arthur and Phlox (frienemies)
Arthur and Jane/Cleveland (friends)

Yeah, I know that the love triangle is all mixed up, but you have to admit that structures are similar. This leads to an obvious question: were Nick and Gatsby gay? It has been suggested in some circles that 19th century American literature is preoccupied with “blackness”, slavery in particular. After all, in a society that claims to put equality at the center of its creed, to have completely marginalized a segment of our population has to affect our national psyche and our perception of ourselves. Likewise, in the 20th century, as gender roles became more fluid, perhaps the idea of homosexuality latched on to the national sub-consciousness. I don’t have a whole lot of evidence to back this up, but it’s interesting to think about.

Back to The Mysteries of Pittsburgh. Like most coming of age novels (of all ages) this one is light on plot. There is an unconvincing subplot about organized crime which leads to the eventual (albeit predictable) tragedy at the end of the book. Where the novel really shines is in the language and characters. Chabon has always had a way with metaphor and simile and it’s impressive he had all but mastered these techniques so early in his career. The characters themselves are whimsical and uncertain. In fact the only character who, my opinion is completely certain is Phlox, and she is certain of her bigotry. This uncertainty perfectly captures the feeling of teetering on the edge of adulthood. The characters are so finely drawn that when characters change their bed-partners it feels earned and not gimmicky.

At times Chabon suffers from a case of aggrandizement, something he would learn to wield more confidently in his more panoramic novels and make his drawback a strength. While this tendency to go over-the-top doesn’t work as well in a contained summer of uncertainty, it worked perfectly in the decades spanning Adventures of Kavalier and Clay.

For those with an undying love for the twenty-something coming of age novel, then this should feed your hunger. For those, like me, who fell in love with Chabon’s writing when they read Kavalier and Clay, I would recommend seeing how the maestro started out. It’s a strong opener to a strong career.