We caught up with the rest of the country last night and watched Juno, finally. I’m totally smitten with that movie…and Ellen Page and Diablo Cody and Michael Cera and Jason Reitman and Olivia Thirlby and pretty much anyone who had anything to do with it. Angela told me yesterday that she just watched it and had totally cried. I admitted that I had my reservations about it, that maybe it was going to be a pregnant Garden State, which I really didn’t like. But I was completely stunned at how fantastic Juno was. I’m sure it holds more of an emotional punch for people who have gone through an unplanned pregnancy when they were young and how fucked your mind gets because of it and how people say the most hurtful things to you. For people who haven’t, it might just be kind of cute. But I still thought the dialogue and the story were wonderful and Ellen Page was seriously robbed at the Oscars. She is just amazing and I couldn’t believe that she hadn’t gotten pregnant and given the baby up for adoption at 16. She nailed the whole thing.
I think I really started to unravel when Juno drives home after an upsetting visit with the baby’s adoptive parents and she pulls off to the side of the road and just sobs. I had that cry, several times, when I was pregnant. Not for those reasons, but I remember feeling like there was no ground for me to stand on, that I was totally untethered, and worst of all, it was all my doing. I just wanted someone to understand how I felt, but I knew that no one possibly could, not even the people closest to me.
Hmph. Well. This is way deeper than I really wanted to get on a Sunday afternoon.