Movie time

Nick & Nora’s Infinite Playlist:
Romantic comedy that was, in places, funny. Girl dumps guy, other girl likes the guy who got dumped based upon aesthetic choices, and much hilarity ensues.

Or not.

It’s that slightly strained comedy and some of the funny stuff isn’t so funny, or maybe, it’s just lost on me. Or maybe some of it is funny, but not in the usual way. Did anyone but me notice that the cars were probably older than the characters themselves? And is that unusual in this day and age, to have cars older than the high school students who drive those cars? Or is that just sticking point? Or maybe, is it irony? Only, I fail to see the irony in the juxtaposition, more like it was a little continuity problem. Or maybe I wasn’t amused enough to see how it was – or wasn’t – funny.

To be honest, I enjoyed the ride. My expectations were low, too. Little product placement, but it was more about what’s really there, and the guy, making CD after CD, each with a theme? Who among us (male) hasn’t felt that pang? Especially in high school?

No direct parents that I recall, just some pictures, sort of, and there was one toilet scene, I’m sure, it was a visual rip-off from Scotland. Think: Trainspotting. The allusion is wholly unrelated to the introductory monologue, which is classic in its own right, but that’s not what this is about. Or that toilet joke. Which did add some sticky continuity.

It was a good film, in its own way, light on the comedy, and easy on the eyes while a little heavy on the audio track. Which made me wonder, too, as there was a solid soundtrack, and I could identify maybe two of the artists – one was an obvious give away, and the other was just fluke, one of my friend’s kids had introduced me to the music.

I was going to tie this to astrology, as in, Mercury is backwards and I needed something to keep me off the streets, so to speak, but that’s not really doable. Then there was the inside joke, bit of a stretch, the actor’s name Cera and the movie name Juno, and that all hints at asteroids. Can’t really work that joke in, either.

I’m too far removed from the moment to understand all the emotional pain, teenage angst, anymore. But the story line, the plot, the elements, for me, moved at a stately and almost elegant pace without too much cinematic effects to drive the film.

I wondered about the music, a bunch of indie rock, and I wondered about the antecedents for the story. There was, at one point, so I’ve surmised, an attempt at a viral marketing campaign, but observant and disenfranchised – cynical – youth see through that pretty quickly. Which doesn’t stop it from being a harmless afternoon entertainment.
That, and near as I could tell, I was the oldest guy in the afternoon’s audience.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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