#39: “You know, they call me the cautionary whale.”


#39: Juno — dir. Jason Reitman

It’s been hipster hit, and Diablo Cody has been dragged over more coals than a steak by a newbie griller.  The dialogue has been raged as too precious and twee, the hamburger phone has become a fucking statement of intent for this film, and blah blah blah.  I do not give a shit.  Juno still makes me happy.  I love the twee dialogue.  I love the way it was assembled, I love the over the top exchanges, and I love the nasty subversity of the images.

Look at the picture I chose.  I specifically found this image because it explains why I love the candy coated acidity of the script.  A pregnant teenager is wearing a Slinky shirt.  What’s the theme song of Slinky?  “What goes downstairs…”  Pushing a woman downstairs is also called an Irish abortion.  It’s a subtle, throwaway, dark-as-fucking-midnight joke, and it’s never acknowledged in the film.  I love shit like that.

And for me, it really is a cautionary whale.  Diablo Cody wrote a fantastic script, won an Oscar for it, and people shit all over her.  I probably did somewhere in the heyday of my heinous film critic phase.  Fucking stripper thinks she’s a screenwriter?!  Know what?  That day she fucking was.   It’s the same with The Landlord, the Will Ferrell-Adam McKay short with McKay’s daughter Pearl shouting at Ferrell.  That makes me crack up.  And the comments I’ve seen on the video:  “Farrel got PWONED BY A BABy.”  “Will is sooooo unfunny.”  “That’s child abuse!”  “Shouting babies aren’t funny. It’s like, learn comedy.”  And so forth.

People are fucking assholes.  And I’ve learned to tune them out, homeskillet.


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