Juno the Kind I Mean

Every once in a while you encounter a creative work or experience that restores (or reinforces, depending on your particular state of mind) your faith in humanity and reminds you how much you like people.  “Juno” is that kind of movie.  I cannot recommend it highly enough. 

Juno has been compared by many to “Little Miss Sunshine,” a fellow Sundance favorite.  It’s a fair comparison insofar as both films are quirky, showcase impressive performances by burgeoning talent, and are, thankfully, not your average large production fare.  The principal distinguishing factor is that Juno is superior by far.   

The premise isn’t new – “A comedy about growing up…and the bumps along the way” – but the presentation is refreshingly matter-of-fact and the acting is so natural, that the result is an unqualified pleasure.  Ellen Page, who plays high-schooler Juno, gives what appears to be an effortless performance and delivers sophisticated dialogue with a frankness that makes it impressively believable.  Page delivers a spot-on performance that is a ticklish mix of suburban slacker and cherubim.  There are also very strong performances from her supporting cast – a collection of friends and family who are as endearing as they are unconventional. 

Go see it.  You’ll be glad you did.

Bjork (aka “Byerk”)

Michael and I went to see Bjork perform at an outdoor concert at the Sydney Opera House this week.  Possibly the best show I’ve seen (of course, I haven’t been to many, so make of that what you will).  There were bats and fireworks!  To be fair, the bats are just part of the usual scenery, but the fireworks were ordered up especially for Bjork.  Pretty neat. 

Bjork was her usual weird self.  She stomped onto stage with a cortege of all female horn players dressed in rainbow costumes with flags mounted on their shoulders.  Bjork herself wore an exaggerated version of the worst 80s prom dress you ever saw fashioned out of a bouncier version of aluminium foil.  Somehow I think that is what passes for “normal” in her wardrobe.  Sadly, I have no photos to offer as we were instructed “per the artist’s request” to refrain from photography of any kind during the show (more importantly, I am too old to be engaged in any sort of altercation with burly security guards). 

She did a good job of playing the popular songs from her back-catalogue, with a few new numbers thrown in.  While her voice is beginning to show the strain of her years, she strutted about in a herky-jerky interpretive dance with no obvious effort.  What I really love about Bjork, and what I particularly enjoyed while watching her live, is that you get the distinct impression that she behaves the same way in front of a thousand people as she would singing to herself at full volume while brushing her teeth at home in front of the bathroom mirror.  I have to respect that kind of abandon. 

A great show from a singular performer.