The reason is not that I'm anti-popularity, or anti-establishment, or even entirely sick of it. It's because, after three viewings (don't ask), I really do like this sweet, sharp little comedy quite a bit. It has its flaws (like an overcompensatory script and a too-immediate indie tone that likely won't last the ages), but it works and it sold me (thrice). And like a hot new song slaughtered by Clear Channel, the media and the masses are killing it for me. And I'm not the only one.
I have a friend who refuses to see Juno because she's already over the whole thing. That's a damn shame. I keep telling her to do herself a favor and see it, and that she'll enjoy it, but I completely understand where she's coming from. She doesn't wanna jump on the Juno-wagon. If I wasn't a blood-in, blood-out cinephile, I'd likely join her in protest.
One of the first things I said after my first screening of the film was that I wished I had seen it at some quiet, pre-buzz screening, months back. An intimate, uninfluenced, virginal festival screening in which I could have soaked up this eventual behemoth without the knowledge of the stamp of excess America would put on it. When critics and audiences agree this unanimously, you've got a hit. When critics and audiences agree, Oscar nominations ensue, and the ever-so-influential teen bracket hops on board, you've got an event - a massive, over-hyped affair that has everyone drunk with adoration.
Well, I'm ready for everyone to go home and nurse their hangovers. I'm ready for Diablo Cody to take home her Oscar and hang up her hamburger phone. I'm ready to walk through Blockbuster in four months and pick up a previously viewed copy of the heartwarming gem in the 3 for $20 section. I wanna rediscover this movie. I wanna get off the wagon and get back on again when the time is right.Wait, did I just say I need Juno rehab? See, look what it's come to.