Juno

Jason Reitman's Juno is a fun and engaging film containing quaint down-to-earth characters. There's the docile air conditioning and heater installing ex-military dad (J. K. Simmons), the can't-grow-up perennially juvenile heart throb (Jason Bateman), the cool, tough, and acerbic stepmom (Allison Janney), and the hopeful, grown-up, pre-matronly mom (Jennifer Garner). These characters are all given their chance to shine but Juno MacGuff steals the show, unilaterally portraying a troubled and confused artistic pregnant teenager.

Don't really know whether or not she's artistic, but she's funny and different, and thoughtful and independent, and the way in which she informs her impregnater Paulie Bleeker (Michael Cera) of her pregnancy is intelligent, and witty, and damned impressive.

Juno is a tough little working class suburban darling, who deals with shattering developments with the calm, tranquil repose of a successful CEO. Her observations are occasionally confused, often adolescent, and frequently forgetful, like most of your highschoolic philosophy, wherein lies her beauty, her presence, her terms of endearment. She's 17 stuck dealing with the demands of a professional, yet she doesn't miss a beat; she keeps her self perfectly in tact, leaving you certain that if she were to raise this child on her own, he or she would definitely have a wonderful mother.

And father, potentially. I don't why Juno was nominated for best picture when similarly touching films such as The Station Agent, Elephant, and La Grande Séduction were not, but hopefully its nomination represents a new trend within Hollywood, one which recognizes comedies that deal with disenfranchised life, valuing its vigorous, universal qualities, sticking up for lifestyles that aren't represented by the opening moments of an episode of Desperate Housewives. It's a great film representing many different sociological threads that one can encounter as time goes by, while offering a number of positive role models for such sartorial circumstances. Worth checking out.

Superbad

The new teen-comedy Superbad (Greg Mottola, dir.) breaks away from its juvenile categorizations because of the onscreen chemistry of leads Jonah Hill and Michael Cera. Their dialogue focuses on important topics like life after high school, friendship, social phobias, popularity, and sex. I suppose the majority of their dialogue focuses on sex but sex is used as the vehicle that organizes Superbad's other areas of inquiry. Throughout, Hill's brazen, deadpan delivery functions as the perfect counter to Cera's thoughtful, intelligent musing, and the two carry the script with an energetic willingness that leaves us wishing they could continue suffering through high school forever. Along for the ride is Fogell "McLovin" (Christopher Mintz-Plasse), Hill and Cera's fake id bearing friend who spends most of the film galavanting around with Officers Slater (Bill Hader) and Michaels (Seth Rogan), the most inept and jaded comic policepersons this side of Supertroopers. If you need proof of the effort and time that was put into Seth Rogan and Evan Goldberg's quality script, you perhaps need look no further than the name McLovin itself, a name which resonates trivial destiny, paradoxically managing to remain both contemporary and historical. Superbad is definitely written for men, which could make it all the more appealing for women, it being a rare clinical evaluation of the American teenaged male, an evaluation which can be thought of as both lucid and gross. Come for the camaraderie, stay for the shenanigans, note that if you're looking for an entertaining hour and a half comedic break you're in luck, and, when it’s over, if there's time, pull out that old high school yearbook, and sigh.