Week 37: Juno

Thank god, I finally get all the pop culture references to Juno now. I know what a homeskillet is. And I now know that her eggo was indeed preggo. Honest to blog.

Okay, I'll stop. I feel like my dad when he talks about using "The Email."

I knew I was going to like Juno. This kind of movie is right up my indie-loving alley. I knew it was going to be funny and sarcastic and shrewd. But I didn't expect it to be so damned sweet too. That took me completely by surprise. I actually cried. Unstoppable happy-sad tears, which are really the best kind. Does that make me a wuss? Ah, what's new.

Are there faults with Juno? Sure. There are plenty (the dialogue, for one, is so unnaturally hip and pretentious at the start that it's actually off-putting). But the perks far outweigh all the hamburger phone jokes. Like Allison Janney. She is a major perk. Huge. She does the best wisecracking housewife routine on the planet. Michael Cera as Juno's boyfriend, Bleeker, is awkward teenage perfection. And while Jennifer Garner's Vanessa was shallowly perfect and a little one-dimensional, you can't help but love her. This is the kind of movie I wish I could watch for the first time a whole bunch of times.

PS: we broke our Netflix promise and saw Juno at the theater this past weekend. We bought a 32 oz. popcorn to share, which, though sounds like a lot, in reality equates to approximately 14 pieces of popcorn. I inhaled the entire thing before we even made it to our seats. Kudos to hubby for making the approximately 4,000-yard trek back to the concession stand for more. He is my Bleeker. He loves me even when I eat all his popcorn.