Juno

Jason Reitman has just verified that he is one of the smartest directors out there. It is hard to believe how good 'Thank You For Smoking' is. It is easily one of the best written (he wrote it) and best directed films of recent times. And he chose Aaron Eckhart to play the smoking lobbyist. I cannot think of anyone else playing that role better. The film is so good it is almost too hard to watch as you are constantly admiring the sheer brashness and gaul of the director. At the age of 31, Reitman hopefully has a long career in front of him.

But this post is about Juno, the 'little miss sunshine' of 2008: A quirky comedy that is mildly offensive, very smart, brilliantly cast and made by the indi arm of a big studio (Fox Searchlight).

Juno subscribes to the recently popular 'pregnancy' sub-genre. It is either too easy (Knocked up) or too hard (Then I found Him) and anyone who has tried it in real life knows that it is neither -- it is just that it only happens when you don't want it to. Pregnancy sub-genre follows well-defined stages of grief ranging from disbelief, denial, anger, melting to eventually, deliverance via delivery. Juno is, if not novel, certainly the smartest of such films. It succeeds because it is one of the few where you don't end up hating the characters (specially the mother) by the end of it. Ellen Page (who doesn't need any more press) clearly acts as if she knows what she is doing which is more than one can say about what Heigl (Knocked-up) and others.

What also uplifts Juno is an amazingly quirky yet effective soundtrack. It is fresh, campy, very high-school in spirit that seems to fit the film wonderfully well. It does get annoying very quickly though, as most things 'teenage' do but it has a warmth that is otherwise hard to find.

However, the single-most winning facet of Juno is that Page's character understands, right from the beginning, that raising a child is not for her. While she goes through the usual emotional upheaval she never really identifies with motherhood and stands by her somewhat unusual decision. What let me down though is that she (Juno) does seem to find love or something like that in the sorry loser played by the sorry loser Michael Cera.

Juno redeems itself by no indulging in the redemption of its heroin.

Juno makes little attempt at understanding why children are somehow out-of-fashion now. It does make an attempt to show why they are out-of-fashion by showing that we are a society of such fierce hedonists that in order to chase are baser biological wants we've somehow managed to lose sight of our real biological needs.

The Brave One

Recovering from a horrific, life-altering tragedy and one, the brave one, getting stuck at a specific stage of grief is the topic of this Jodie Foster film that completes in some sense her Charles-Bronson-of-the-suburbia trilogy that started with a tight Panic Room followed by a loose flight-plan and ends (hopefully) with The Brave One, a film that is the most disappointing of them all because it is the only that seemed to have a soul -- even it only for the first 30 minutes or so.

Jodie Foster's character reacts to a tragedy like a vigilante in The Brave One. She wants to make peace but all she does is make more violence which never quite works out. She is a radio host who discovers the soul of the city (New York City, of course) and has powerful statements about its implicit toughness. She is confused and shows it. Pained and shows it. Lost and shows it. She is scared but is brave. The director though is lost and a in such cases one usually takes the easiest way out. Like the coward one.

Anthony Minghella

I recently saw 'Breaking and Entering.' I saw the film in several sittings and the directory actually passed away while I was still in the middle of it. Another very strange coincidence.

I didn't think much of 'Breaking and Entering' even though there was something odd about consuming the work of someone who had just passed away at a relatively young age. However, going back to his earlier films , the much celebrated 'The English Patient' and mostly misunderstood 'Cold Mountain' and also the confusing yet arresting 'Talented Mr. Ripley', Mr. Minghella came across as a powerful visual storyteller with a bend toward literature (He was working on 'No. 1. Ladies Detective Agency' -- another famos book). While 'Breaking and Entering', his last published film, is clearly not his best, it does show the director as an observer of human misunderstanding and despair hence created.

His death is a loss to film-making. We've lost another director who made films for adults.

Long Road Out Of Eden - Eagles

I often wonder why famous people that have nothing to prove anymore keep coming back and soiling their own reputation. What is it that makes them do it? Is it as simple as greed for more money or more fame or is it pursuit of the true desire to say something left unsaid or to paint that final brush stroke that completes the masterpiece. Or is it just some kind of biological compulsion for destruction that seems to permeate us all at some level and specially so those that hold a kind of social stature.

Eagles have come up with a new studio album after 28 years called 'Long Road Out Of Eden.' It is certainly a long road and maybe out of Eden but not sure where it is headed. Just listening to this album is like being on New Jersey Turnpike, a dour, flavorless patch of American highway that seems desperate to get somewhere, too desperate and does seem to go somewhere, an odd exit to an odd suburbia but takes the rider nowhere, at least nowhere they'd rather be.

Why, after already letting Hotel California be your cash cow time and again. Why? No hell has frozen over so what prompted this turkey?

Don Henley sings of the war and declares that the 'Road to empire is a bloody, stupid waste' but the shame is that Henley wants nothing less.

Shine Over Babylon - Sheryl Crow

I listen to way too much music to ever get obsessed about a horribly bad song (and there are too many of them) but once in a while there comes along a real turkey. A song so insidious, so terrible that I am amazed at the mind that might have come up with it. I obsess on these for the same reason that I cannot take make eyes of a truly awful TV show (Office?)

I have never had strong feelings about Sheryl Crow. I found her a mediocre artists that tries to make up by being a part-time socialite and trophy wife. Never had strong feelings until I heard a song called 'Shine Over Babylon' from her latest album called 'Detours.' Initially, I found the song just mildly irritating because it seemed to have a really bad tune. However, as I started getting some of the lyrics is when I started to get appalled. What the hell was this woman saying? What the hell did she mean? Here is a sample:

If there's a god where is he now
The precipice is slipping further out

Sanskrit message from the mounts
Leave your possessions, hope abounds
There's nothing here for you to cry about
We're all just followers from here on out

I wonder if the world would be a better place if at least some cliche were retired forever. Take the first sentence for example. "If there is a God where is he now?" I mean how could you get worse than that? Who writes this kind of drivel? Good she is taking the credit for writing this hackneyed garbage. "Singer-songwriter', my ass.

Also, anyone using precipice from now on to communicate some kind of newly discovered tipping point should also be put out of their misery.

But what took the proverbial cake for me was the damn Sanskrit message from the mounts and the next couple of sentences that seem to be some sort of a hyper-condensed Bhagvad-Gita for the twitter generation.

There are slant references to oil-driller (Bush) and the war and some hifalutin bullshit all amidst a noisy, cantankerous tune.

Who is keeping score of the bad art being bred by the war?

And just to drive the point further, here is another gem. You are welcome to revel in the genius of Ms. Crow's songwriting talent.

I found my way to Alexandria
Where gurus bubble up on Ganges
Scavengers, they run up and hand ya
All the junk that should have damned ya