Cineplexus

No matter what else, Avatar is a game changer.

Avatar ★★★★½

Full disclosure: one of my favorite people on Earth worked on Avatar for months. 80-hour work-weeks. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner on set. I really, really wanted this to be a decent movie. Still, I had my doubts. Big blue aliens? CGI? 3D for Christ's sake? It seemed unlikely that this one would pass muster. So, when I read Roger Ebert's review I was ecstatic. 4 of 4 stars! He compared it to seeing Star Wars for the first time. I send out elated texts to several other hopeful friends.

Then the haters started in. The movie was cheesy. It was overly didactic. It gave me a headache. And okay, no, those aren't complaints I actually read in negative reviews; they are my own impressions of the film's possible weak points. Therein lies the Avatar debate, one that will likely continue for decades. Do this movie's groundbreaking strides in the very fabric of the medium outweigh any foibles in its basic storyline and dialogue?

I have a feeling the decades will err on the side of Avatar's greatness. Take Star Wars as a forerunning example: its hero is whiny, its villain utterly uncomplex (we're talking JUST THE FIRST FILM here, people). But who cares? The movie remains one of the most widely celebrated ever, as much by the general public as by film geeks like me. Or take Jaws, which (film school taught me) was the first true summer blockbuster. It's about a freaking shark! A killer shark! But do we watch it and think, "What's up with that weird grizzled guy?" No. We think "Wow, this is an astonishingly created film. And to think it was made in 1975!" 

Right? Isn't that what you think? Or is that just me?

The fact of the matter is that Avatar has people thinking about entertainment in a whole new way. The story, classically, has clear cut good guys and textbook baddies. It is pretty fantastical, and one must suspend disbelief for nearly three hours to believe that these tribes of giants and their magic tree can fend off the firepower of huge military manned battledroids. There is way too much voiceover, including a few passages so redundant that even the blind could do without their narrative aid. But it takes a lot of energy to even notice these tiny blips on the astonishing and astonishingly real world that unfolds again and again before your bespectacled eyes. The 3D is immersive, not invasive, so each of us in the audience is having our own experience on Pandora. It's a feat that Star Wars Episodes IV-VI can't even boast. Hell, no movie can.

That's why we call it "groundbreaking." No one's built there before.

Two Movies About The Futility of Reason

A Serious Man, ★★★★½

Where the Wild Things Are,★★★★

Sometimes you can like, even love, a film with your gut but the reasons why remain illusive. A Serious Man and Where the Wild Things Are have this quality in common. Both films explore the psyche of their main characters, visually and through mysterious but fascinating dialogue. Sure, those main characters are pretty different – in the former, a middle aged Jewish man in the 1960s and, in the latter, a modern 8ish-year-old – but the two filmic methods seem strangely similar.  Do the movies share any other traits? It seems unlikely, but I'm going to look. Like these movies, I'm diving into the realm of the impossible.

A Serious Man sets it's own (rather Orthodox) stage in a rather unorthodox manner. We're deep within an ancient Jewish legend, in which a supposedly dead man comes to the door of a couple he knows (or should I say "knew?". The woman of the house stabs him right in the chest, so sure is she that he is a ghost or evil spirit. The husband is aghast, as the man appears to bleed to death. But is he a ghost or not? The story doesn't say. That's not the point. Frustrating, right?

That's the world of A Serious Man and its lead, Larry Gopnik (Michael Stuhlbarg, who is amazing here). In the middle of a great number of crises ― marital, career, fatherly, neighborly ― Larry is continuously advised to seek comfort in his Jewish faith. The harder he tries, the more he learns that his Jewish tradition is more about pondering crises than solving them...just like in the legend that starts the film (which, by the way, is never referenced again).

This masterpiece of contemplation was written and directed by the Coen brothers, and is probably their most thoughtful film. It also holds the title of Most Jewish Movie I've Ever Seen. Despite its frequent, VERY Black humor, it is a rather challenging film to watch if you're expecting a conventional problem-solution-new problem-ultimate solution story arc. That it has none is the whole point of the film. Can you deal with that?

OMG! Hey! That last paragraph (minus the Jewish part and the Coen brothers part) could be repurposed for a review of Where the Wild Things Are! Another similarity. I knew we could do it. 

Spike jonze adapted the famous Maurice Sendak book only with the author's seal of approval, and this was no small feat when you consider that sendak's original was a 48-page picture book. This left Jonze with countless opportunities to embellish on the details of hero Max, his life, and his experiences with the Wild Things, and Jonze took every one of them. Few of the movie's events are familiar to us from the famous children's book, but the film manages to retain the book's mood nonetheless. This can be largely attributed to the fabulous performance by unknown (Max Records) who was picked from outside The Biz for his spirit and character. Also unchanged is the core event of the story: Max, after acting out at home and being scolded, escapes to a (fantasy) land where he keeps wild things from killing him by saying he's a king who can magically solve all their problems.

Hmm…an unrealistic desire to solve problems? Escape from personal crisis? There may be more similarities between these two movies than I ever imagined. 

One gets the feeling that some hours of serious thought will unravel WIld Things' web of symbols and metaphors, but it's a nut I've yet to crack. Like Serious Man, this film's rich detail and mysterious twists add to its allure. Even so, a lack of answers could demonstrate the purity life's mysteries, but it can also demonstrates lazy editing. Much of Wild Things perfectly captures the ethereal childhood melancholy few movies can approximate, but every so often the drama feels like nonsense. I can't tell if that's part of some master plan on Jonze's part or of it's...well...a mistake. Do Jonze or (co-writer) Dave Eggers (or anyone that works for them) make mistakes? Now there's a mystery to ponder.

I really liked both of these films, but ultimately feel that A Serious Man is a superior film, if only because it's easier to explain why I like it: great writing, great acting, a clear message in spite of its theme of fogginess. Wild Things had all of these but the last. Of course, my rating, unlike this review, is not a comparison of the two movies, and both films are very, very worth seeing. Just another thing they've got in common.

Some thoughts on District 9, ★ ★ ★ ★ ½

Movie Buzz is not always a good sign. While online or word-of-mouth excitement for a film is enough to get many people to the theater, all that build up can lead to pretty big disappointments (Indiana Jones 4, anyone?). Promotions driven by a movie studio's marketing teams can be even more foreboding; cross-promotions with McDonalds and Hasbro can read as desperation moves to the jaded filmlovers among us, wary of anything so forcefully sold.

 I only bring this up because late-summer's sci-fi blockbuster District 9 was one of the most visibily promoted films of the summer, with banners everywhere from shopping malls to subway cars to popcorn bags. They all had the same, cutesy conceit: "For Humans Only," as in "No Aliens Allowed." The popcorn bags suggested that popcorn should not be fed to aliens, while the mall banners suggested that aliens were not to shop there. In retrospect, the whole campaign seems alarmingly tongue-in-cheek for a movie that means such serious business. 

And boy, did this movie mean business. It quietly sneaks its way from mockumentary to horror-action narrative without drawing attention to the change. It drips with political provocation while grossing you out with its biological precision and shock-and-awing you with explosions. I had been warned that the film was gory, but I still went into the theater expecting something campy.

Congratulations, Hollywood Promotional Machine. Looks like you've still got some tricks up your sleeve.

 

Inglourious Basterds ★★★★½

Quentin Tarantino. A devisive figure to be sure. Is he the great modern filmmaker of his generation, or is he some sort of sick psychopath with a thing for old movies and squirm-inducing violence?

He may, of course, be both. But Tarantino-haters may have to stifle themselves a bit in the wake of the director's most recent film, Inglourious Basterds. Along with a whole bunch of shooting, stabbing, cutting, and bleeding, Tarantino has included a fascInating plot, captivating characters (villain Col. Landa, played by Christoph Waltz, and heroine Shoshanna, played by Mélanie Laurent, are two for the ages), and suspense that proves positively nailbiting. Literally. As in, this particular moviegoer is admitting that her teeth met her fingernails during this film. Oh, and much of it is in French and German with subtitles. How mature and appropriate!

Tarantino reportedly labored for ages writing the film, which he's characterized in interviews as his "spaghetti western." God bless him for that. While the director's cinephilia is very evident throughout Basterds, to describe it as the "Tarantino version" of anything we've seen before is selling it short. Here we have an astonishing melting pot of genres–drama, action, comedy, war, arthouse, and, sure, some westernia–that pays homage to the cinematic arts of the decade it portrays even as it creates something entirely new. And though the film's violent scenes are horrific, they are always brief or balanced with a fair amount of plot development and dialogue. Most of the film's duration–and it's very long, though I didn't mind–is devoted to another kInd of pain: the soul-twisting suspense of not knowing who's going to win each of the film's many battles of wits.

Bravo, Mr. Tarantino, you crazy basterd. I was expecting to enjoy this film, but I ended up loving it.

500 Days of Summer ★★★★½

From the very start, 500 Days of Summer asserts that it is going to be different from other movies. It has a quirky, ironic voice-over by an omniscient narrator, an unuaual dedication, a decidedly unorthodox timeline. And, it states, it is not a love story.

Jumping around from the ending to the middle to the beginning and back again, the film tells the story of somewhat starcrossed couple Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) and Summer (Zooey Deschanel). Breaking the traditional gender roles (as promised), Tom is a born romantic, looking for his perfect match, and taking the whole search very seriously, while Summer is somewhat afraid of commitment, obsessed with her own independence.

500 Days of Summer is definitely not a "chick flick", but I found myself warmly relating to Tom's character, both his sensibilities and his dilemmas. There's a wonderful chemistry between Gordon-Levitt and Deschanel, who both do the film an amazing service as tremendous, recognizable-but-indie actors. Their endearing take on two very realistic characters combines with an offbeat sensibility that pervades the whole movie (there's a post-coital musical number, for example) to create a finished product that's captivating, hilarious, and, above all, totally orginal.

Up ★★★★½

Raised, as so many of us were, on a rich movie diet of Disney's classic animated films, I am just now realizing how intensely frightening most of them tended to be at points. Sometimes, as with Aladdin, The Little Mermaid, or The Lion King, the terror comes somewhere in the middle.  Then there's that select handful of films where the creepiness shows up right away – think of that eerie opening to Beauty and the Beast, or the sad horror of Finding Nemo and, of course Bambi.

I'm waxing philosophical about these super-dramatic moments less because of my own reaction to Up than that of the little boy who sat behind me in the theater. I'd been warned that the beginning of the film was very sad – boy was it – but the child behind me was definitely scared. About 10 minutes into the film, he whimpered in discomfort, reflecting the heartwrenching nature of what was unfolding onscreen in a way that only an innocent could – palpably feeling the unpleasantness without really understanding it. His mother, a wise filmgoer no doubt, informed him that the film hadn't really started yet. She was pretty much right.

The vast majority of Up is more delightful than heartwrenching (though there's some of that, and some more scary, along the way), but those first few sad,painful minutes were absolutely necessary to set up the motivation for the characters throughout. Such a decision – to maintain the integrity of the story even if it's difficult for much of the audience – not only pays off bigtime in Up, but it also reminds us of what these films can be when they're done with care and class. There may be an extra dimension involved, but Disney and Pixar have restored the dark, complex splendor of those animated classics we loved as children, and appreciate as adults.

Thanks, guys.

The Hangover ★★★★½

Okay, this is silly. Sometimes I find myself ruminating for days, even weeks, about a movie I've seen, trying to find the right words to describe it. Usually, this happens when a movie is somewhat middle-of-the-road, and I can't really decide whether to hang left or right. In the case of The Hangover, though, I haven't been feeling wishy-washy. I've just been hoping to get the chance to see it again.

This recent work of genius was directed by Todd Phillips of Old School fame. He also directed Starsky and Hutch, a film which I love dearly, but which hardly deserves the acclaim this most recent film has received. The Hangover is a film that manages to be about debauchery and depravity, all while leaving   (most of) the specifics to the audience's imaginations. It is sometimes sweet but never hokey, and showcases performances that are both nuanced and hilarious by each of its three stars - Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms, and Zach Galifianakis.

Perhaps these three actors hold the secret to this films allure, even its greatness. Phillips' past movies have been commercially successful, starring old kings of the Hollywood comedy scene: Will Ferrell, Ben Stiller, Vince Vaughn, Owen Wilson. These are funny guys, but they aren't exactly full of surprises. Of Hangover's stars, the most famous is probably Helms, who comedy fans know from The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and The Office. This is a cast that earns the movie some indie cred, particularly with the addition of Galifianakis, who carries his creepy-hilarious schtick straight from the stand-up circuit to every gut-busting scene in this film.

No film can succeed on its cast alone, and there is much to be praised about The Hangover's unconventional storyline and plot points. One co-worker described it to me as a "funny Memento" and I really like that take. Of course my first thoughts were of my beloved Hitchcock films, like Vertigo or North by Northwest in which no one really knows the secret to why strange events are unfolding until deep into the film. But The Hangover is a comedy, and a great one at that, offering us surprises scene after scene that don't merely perplex, but amuse. Greatly.

Still, it's hard imagining even a unique, fresh script like this one riding so high if, say, Matthew McConaughey had played Cooper's sexy rule-breaker, with Ben Stiller as Helms' henpecked worrier, and (god forbid, though I love the man sometimes) Will Ferrell as Galifianakis' creepy, possibly-insane brother-in-law. With the same lines, the same delivery, it just wouldn't have been the same movie. While I'd love to see these three actors (the actual stars, not my suggested celebrities) in more films together (maybe The Hangover 2, already in development), I should probably be wishing for something entirely different: a whole new slew of comedies starring the unsung, dimmer stars of Hollywood, just waiting to go supernova*.

If this film is any indication, that could be a very good – and lucrative – development.

*Yes, I realize that, technically, "going supernova" would not be an ideal fate, as supernova is the last stage before a star explodes/burns out. But some stars never even get to that point in Hollywood (see: Lindsey Lohan)! Plus, it was just too poetic to pass up. Deal with it.

2 Movies About…Making Bank: The "Summer's" First 2 Blockbusters

X-Men Origins: Wolverine ★★½

Star Trek ★★★★½

In the movie industry, as in so much of retail-based society, seasons start a little early. Christmas season starts at Halloween, Oscar season starts in the Fall, and Summer, the season of the Blockbuster, starts in early May. Summer season 2009 is off to a rollicking start with two hugely anticipated films, each with a very long franchise history to back it up and bring it fans. Wolverine and Star Trek are both examples of mega-budget, sci-fi epics that movie fans love, even those who don't care much about the source material, and they both have already made major bank, thanks in large part to months and months of hype. The films have this in common, and little else. 

Actually, for me, there were some other similarities. I saw both films on the day they opened, at the same theater, where in both cases I had to show the ticket I just paid $10.50 for to a diffident but unyielding usher before entering the theater itself, despite the fact that tickets were already torn on an entirely different floor. Oh, summer blockbusters. We get so excited for you, only to be put through hell for the opportunity to be disappointed by you. At least, this was the case with Wolverine. 

The X-Men franchise has been quite successful at the box office over the years, but scripts and plot development have seen their ups and downs. Wolverine has all the flash and careful art design of previous films, but in terms of editing and storyline, we can mark it in the "downs" column. Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time in the history of Cineplexus, I'd like to issue a SPOILER ALERT.

Now, perhaps you already know that Wolverine (Hugh Jackman, of course) and his ilk (i.e., mutants) are practically immortal. This is made crystal clear to us in an opening montage that finds James Logan (Wolverine-to-be) and his half-brother (the future Sabertooth, played by Liev Schreiber) fight in pretty much every American War ever (nevermind that they're Canadian). But after some funny business in Vietnam, some fun with other mutants (a hit-or-miss bunch that includes some characters that will be familiar to comic book fans, but not to anyone else), and starting a new life as a lumberjack, a man named Stryker offers to make Logan "indestructible."  X2 already introduced Stryker to us as a military madman, and as Wolverine's creator. 

Indestructible. It's not an equicovating kind of word. What's more, the man who uttered it, Stryker, has devoted his life to the study of mutants (and how to take advantage of them). So why, Gavin Hood, why, David Benioff and Skip Woods, why, Nicolas DeToth and Megan Gill, is the entire second half of the movie about Stryker trying to destroy Wolverine? Moments after the newly-minted adamantium-infused Wolverine esapes from the laboratory of his creation, Stryker utters the following words to his #2 man: "Blow his brains out." You JUST coated his skull in unbreakable metal, jackass! Sure, a military higher-up points this out a bit later in the film, but it's too little, too late at that point. No matter how many cool fights, awesome mutants, or fabulous special effects can make up for such a mind-boggling backwards plot "twist." 

I'm not saying I didn't enjoy the film. I'm just saying that I spent several minutues of it yelling at the screen from the audience. Literally. No one heard me. It was loud in there. In a way, I have to thank X-Men Origins: Wolverine for giving me some perspective with which to critique the following week's big blockbuster, Star Trek.

Now, I'm no Star Trek lover; in fact, in my younger years I was one of those Star Wars nerds who's so devoted a fan that she actually stands against the very idea of Star Trek. In college, however, I became close friends with Mary, who I credit with getting me excited about things like comic books and superheroes…and with bestowing upon me a working knowledge of Star Trek: The Next Generation. That said, one hardly needs more than a tenuous grasp on 20th century pop-culture to follow along with this film. After all, it's an origins story – OMG, another similarity to Wolverine! How did I miss that one? – and we're carefully, if quickly, introduced to all the heroes from the original Star Trek throughout the film. While they aren't all fresh out of Starfleet, they are all new to the Enterprise, rocketed into key roles by happenstance and quick thinking, and there's something truly exciting about that.

Come to think of it, what's not exciting about the new Star Trek? I expected some thrilling fight scenes and fast-paced chases. I expected crazy effects and fancy explosions. Check, check, check. super-check. For many, that kind of flash will be enough to brand Star Trek a successful endeavor. But how was I to imagine, based on the fast-paced, hype-tastic trailer pumped through the Web and on to television for the past year, that this film would actually have a carefully developed, extremely complex story? The folks behind Star Trek might have devoted as much care to character development as they did to their Enterprise sets and interstellar motion graphics. Furthermore, they managed to totally rewrite the future of the Star Trek universe; one friend of mine was appalled by this fact, but only one. Personally, I think it's a move of pure brilliance, one that could help this film become a sci-fi classic. And who could forget how super-hot all the main characters are? I, for one, can't stop thinking about it.

Both films obviously spent tons of time and money on development and details, but one of them just gave up when it came time for the script and the editing.  Not so fast, Hollywood; therein lies the difference between a frustrating Pre-Summer Blockbuster and an excellent one. Giving a crap about making your movie good, instead of just about your movie making money.

Slumdog Millionaire ★★★★½

For two days after we left the theater, my grandma would not hear mention of the word "India" without adding "awful, awful country!" This, of course, was not the intended message of Slumdog Millionaire, nor was it the message I left the theater with. Though the film is certainly packed with some pretty grim, gross, and dangerous images of life as a "slumdog" orphan criminal, I don't think the entire nation of India can be blamed for the events of this fictional drama (sorry, Grandma).

In fact, Slumdog Millionaire triumphs because of its fantastic juxtaposition of the lows and highs of life – specifically for main characters Jamal, Salim, and Latika, but, indirectly, for everyone. In fact, the film is very clear in its suggestion that all the hardships of Jamal Malik's life can be held responsible for his happy successes. 

This movie has already swept the Golden Globes, and is nominated for 10 Academy Awards. If you know anyone who has seen it (other than my grandmother), chances are they've urged you to check it out as soon as possible. I feel a little silly adding any more to the chorus, so let me just say this: Slumdog Millionaire is a tragic and triumphant story about love, endurance, and the power of kismet. Go as soon as you can, eschewing Paul Blart and Bride Wars though it may mean, and brace yourself for some intense pain and pleasure. Bring Kleenex.

Milk ★★★★½

I cannot tell a lie: one of the primary reasons I was excited to see Gus Van Sant's latest film was the prospect of seeing James Franco making out with dudes. It's embarrassing, really, given the gravity of the film's subject matter, but how was I to know? I knew of Harvey Milk vaguely as a politician and activist, but that abbreviated impression failed to convey the positively Greek nature of his life and tragedy. In fact, if the story told in Milk is truly the life story of Harvey Milk, there is hardly a life imaginable that was more suited for the screen.

In addition to telling the story of the eponymous gay activist-turned-elected official, the film documents the San Francisco birth of the Civil Rights Movement That Dare Not Speak Its Name. Like many pictures about cultural revolutions, it proves a timely reminder of how far we've come as a society and how far we have yet to go.

Milk isn't just a moving story; it also features astonishing and nuanced performances by the whole of its giant cast, including Mr. Franco (who, disappointingly, only makes out with a rather dorky-looking Sean Penn), Emile Hirsch,  Josh Brolin, Diego Luna and, most notably, Mr. Penn himself, as evidenced by his Golden Globe and Oscar nominations. 

Spoiler alert: anyone who shows up at the theater hoping to see some Franco/Hirsch, Franco/Luna, or Hirsch/Luna action will not get his or her wish. Such a person will also feel a certain amount of shame for wishing so little of an amazing cast and story as the film winds quietly toward its sad and surprising climax. But there will be no regrets. Take it from me.

2 Movies About Jerks. In Chief.

W. ★★★½ Frost/Nixon ★★★★½

Two heavy-weights of the movie industry have brought us films about presidents 37 and 43. Neither number was particularly lucky for America, but these movies portray men more complex than their respective legacies. W. is out on DVD in early February; Frost/Nixon is in theaters now.

With mere days until his presidency is over, George W. Bush has been traveling the world trying to save face. Turn on your preferred 24-hour news network, and chances are strong that you'll see analysts debating the possibility that W. could somehow be redeemed in the eyes of history. Will future generations see him as a cool dude with a hard-on for liberation, or as the Worst Ever American President?

Enter Oliver Stone. His recent film, W., may provide the most concrete possible reference for future generations wondering just who this Bush guy was. This immense power is one that Stone has exercised before, and thereby strengthened: one might argue that previous films of his, like Nixon and JFK, have created just this type of cultural mirror. So just what kind of picture has he painted of our regrettably fearless leader?

W. is a curious film in that it tells a story that isn't quite over. Starting in the early college days of George W. Bush, it initially depicts a socially smart, marginally lazy guy who seems to have it all, except that his dad won't allow him to enjoy it. Struggling to outshine his father's bleak forecast for the future of such an ambitionless young man – and to do so on his own terms – "Junior" enters the political arena and succeeds both despite and because of his unique personality and priorities.

In discussing Stone's latest film with friends, I heard complaints from some that the movie was too easy on Bush; a select few others complained it was too harshly biased against him. To me, W. seemed, above all, devoutly biographical in its portrayal of the latter-day Bush, with clear allusions to stories and information already brought up in famous biographies like The Bushes: Portrait of a Dynasty and First Son (neither book is particularly kind to Mr. President). Rather than overtly portray a foolish W, Stone offers us a man faced with increasingly higher stakes, delegating more and more decisions as he climbs the ranks, and all the while constantly demanding he be considered the one who's really responsible for it all: The Decider.

Fascinating in its remarkably plausible depiction of documented events, this is ultimately a film with no ending. Cinematically,  W. suffers for that fact, but how thrilling, philosophically, that the movie itself will help to write the future it didn't dare predict: the fate of its title character.

•••

In those heady days before we knew how truly awful a presidency could be, Richard Nixon was right at the top of every American's shit list. Let's be fair to the late president: he still holds a top spot for many of us. After Nixon's resignation and subsequent pardoning by Gerald Ford, America's faith in government was fractured. Would Nixon ever be asked to pay for his crimes? 

In Ron Howard's new film, Frost/Nixon, this is the cultural climate that sets things in motion. A solution comes from an unlikely source; British talk-show personality David Frost sees a Nixon interview as a great way to shatter ratings records and make tons of advertising money. Not a particularly politically savvy fellow, Frost hires a team of researchers who inform him just how critical it is that he really nail Nixon in this interview. Meanwhile, the Nixon camp only accepts the interview offer because they're expecting the kind of soft-ball love-fest that Frost is known for. Drama ensues!

Through an interesting combination of documentary-style "interviews" from the present day, archival footage, reenactments, and of course the partially-factual story line itself, Frost/Nixon manages to make a movie about a political television event from the Seventies engaging. More than that, the film is frequently funny and occasionally thrilling. Kind of like the whole Watergate debacle. We come away still angry at Nixon, but genuinely sorry for him as well, a testament to the film's powerful script and Frank Langella's positively uncanny and commanding portrayal of the 37th president.

So, alas, George W. Bush fails again. Even his movie isn't as good as Nixon's. Nevertheless, both of these films are absolutely worth seeing, and worth comparing, as they address the question of failed presidency thought two very different methods, and by focusing on two very, very different men.

Teeth ★★★★1/2

Growing up, as so many have, in a small, midwestern town that ached to embody "Good Christian Values," I found myself in an unusual position for a teenager: I felt compelled to follow the rules. I am fairly certain that one of the main reasons I avoided drugs was a 7th-grade health class video in which three kids die after using cocaine just once. And even as the 21st century neared, my high school health teacher could barely hold down his lunch as he showed us the infamous "STD Slideshow." With so many dangers lurking about, I knew one had to be conscientious in every decision. Smart but green, I imagined for a while that others my age felt the same way. Eventually, though, time and observation taught me just how seamy the underbelly of a sweet little town can be.

As the curtain rises on Teeth, the first feature film from writer/director Mitchell Lichtenstein, I saw an eerily precise rendering of my little town appear before me, and in it lived Dawn, a young girl not unlike myself – call her our heroine, if you like – whose well-meaning but naîve ideas about the world are a cause of some major confusion. And then, over the course of the next 88 minutes, I saw those things ripped to shreds, battered and bloodied, with all semblance of manners or remorse trampled upon along the way.

It was astonishing. It was wonderful.

No one, in my opinion should go see Teeth, this sick-and-wrong masterpiece of horror-comedy-satire, without knowing that the teeth in question refer to vagina dentata, or, well…vagina teeth. I'll leave the rest of the history and explanation of the term to the film itself, but certainly this is a topic that has the potential to be powerfully offensive, and not in the good way. But far from suggesting an anti-female perspective, or even an anti-sex perspective, Lichtenstein and his phenomenal star (Jess Weixler, who won a Special Jury Prize at Sundance for this performance) manage to dance around potentially damning political statements, first horrifying you with a truly freaky monster, and then turning everything on its head by making the victims the authors of their own demise. By setting up a range of stereotypical – and, in many cases, just plain typical – sexual situations and relationships, we get to know Dawn and her monster as they carry us through some of the grossest and some of the awesomest things I've ever seen in a movie theater.

I'm sure there are things about Teeth that were wrong, or bad, but I sure as hell can't name one for you. I was too caught up in this film - genuinely scared, nervous, excited – to take note of them. If you have the opportunity, and a strong stomach, just go out and see it while you can. (Chicagoans can see Teeth at the Music Box until at least April 12; or you can pre-order the DVD).

Oh, and by the way: Potential Suitors, rest assured. Other than a slightly naîve tendency to follow the rules, Dawn and I have absolutely NOTHING in common.

Juno ★★★★1/2

Ah, high school. Is there any time of life more idealized or more heart-wrenching? Any time I happen to enter my old high school, the mere smell of it knocks me over; eerily familiar, it's the smell of a minimum-security prison full of wannabe adults with alarmingly complex crises poisoning their generally simple lives. In a small town, high school smells like a soap opera. In a time and place where the smallest problems caused major waves, a real problem was life-shattering.

That's how I remember things. And I can recall a real problem or two.

Yes, as recently as six years ago, I was a teenager. At the risk of over-simplifying, I'd like to think that Juno captures precisely what has changed since then and what has stayed the same. High school still basically sucks as you struggle to be seen as mature while still being taken care of. Your whole life can still revolve around someone who has no idea how you feel about him. Sex is still really weird, but for coolness' sake, you still have to pretend that it's not. And big problems still happen.

If you don't count the goofy slang (do kids in Minnesota really talk like that?), the differences are subtler. In a world where teen pregnancy has long since emerged from the shadows as a common crisis, the kids in this film try very hard to be "so over it." Rather than having a tearful heart-to-heart about how irresponsible she was, Juno and her best friend have a quick phone debate about which abortion clinic she'll go to. And that's just the first scene! The teenagers in this film are at once jaded and naïve, which affords them a level of complexity that the "Dawson's Creek" gang could only have had a verbose discussion about back when I was in tenth grade.

While Juno has been roundly praised for its honest script, engaging performances, and educated cuteness (deservedly so), one of my favorite things about it is its willingness to avoid the preachiness that typically plagues the teen-pregnancy subject. Instead, it finds a real story that engages a whole other range of characters and topics. In the end, Juno winds up not being about pregnancy at all. It's about love and relationships, selfishness and sacrifice, and finding the courage to abandon the life you planned in favor of the life you're living. Oh, and it's funny, too.