Juno is a light-hearted romp through the subject of teen pregnancy that is undermined by it’s own self awareness. It is filled with quirky dialog that teenagers weened from the teat of Napoleon Dynamite will endlessly quote. Dialog that will have your grandmother playfully referring to her “vag”. It has a hip, indie soundtrack full of precocious acoustic numbers and poorly strummed chords. It makes appropriate use of “it” awkward guy, Michael Cera, who is great at what he does, but is quickly becoming a one-note actor.
Despite all that, once the movie settled in and stopped trying so hard, I succeeded in choking back the bile and actually began to enjoy it. Plus, I had just been subjected to the Mad Money trailer, and I didn’t want any residual rage to cloud my judgment.
But it isn’t all lactation and mucus plugs. Underneath all the quirkiness lies an insidious subtext. A man honest enough to admit he is not ready for parenthood is a bad person, while a love-starved, baby-crazy mess of a woman will make a great single mother.
By allowing Jason Bateman’s character to bond with Juno, the implication is that he has the emotional maturity of a 16 year old. (Granted, he also seems to develop some sort of romantic feelings towards the pregnant teenager, but that is neither here nor there.) His wife, who will surely smother the poor bastard child to death with love, is seen as the savior, rescuing the infant and providing the requisite happy ending.
The kid probably would have been better off being aborted, but then the film would have ended at the 20 minute mark and been a whole lot less funny.
