Bastard Boom

Hollywood: the bastion of sodomy, immorality and anti-American sentiment has released three films this year that have been accused of promoting Pro-Life themes. Despite their stylistic differences Indie hit and Oscar nominated Juno (Diablo Cody), frat-house comedy Knocked Up (Judd Aptow) and the dramedy Waitress (the late Adrienne Shelley) converge on theme of unwanted pregnancy.

Film critics grew suspicious when movies about women keeping unwanted children invaded the porous skin of the box office. Juno and Waitress premiered at Sundance, while Knocked Up had an immediate wide-release. Domestically, Juno and Knocked Up earned around $140 million, while Waitress brought in $18 million.

Several notable critics charged that the films implicitly gave off Pro-Life themes, while acknowledging that not any one of them was made for that purpose.

David Edlestein of Slate and NPR’s Fresh Air, commented that, like it or not, these films made political statements (evidently in the favor of Pro-Life). This motivated his decision to keep Juno off his top ten-list.

Hadley Freeman of The Guardian took a more direct approach and said flatly that the films are, “a product of a generation that has had the luxury of legal and relatively easy access to abortion. The danger is that one forgets what the alternative really meant, and as a result sentimentalises it.”

The alternative film of choice for politically frustrated critics was Romanian director’s (Christian Munguin) “4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days”. The film takes place during the last years of dictatorial Ceausescu regime. It follows a pair of college students that seek a doctor for an illegal abortion in a Bucharest hotel. The film has been commended for its gritty realism.

As is often the case, it seemed as if no one actually watched the movies. Only when critics are in the grip of a theory can they ignore the qualitative difference in films.

Out of the three, Knocked Up exemplifies the discontent among Pro-Lifers. The powerful and successful Allison sacrifices her career for the jobless and stoned Ben. The only thing that was clear about Allison is that she is the creation of male writer: she has no depth, no complexity, and no desire.

To add insult to injury, one of the male characters can’t even say the word ‘abortion’.

In a Vanity Fair interview, star Katherine Heigl, who plays Allison in the film, voices these concerns when she describes the film as “a little sexist” and added, “it paints the women as shrews, as humorless and uptight, and it paints the men as lovable, goofy, fun-loving guys.”


Juno likewise drew controversy for its portrayal of teenage pregnancy. Screenwriter Diablo Cody has been vocal that Juno is not a Pro-Life film.

In an interview for online magazine suicidegirls, Cody offers her interpretation on the abortion question. “I think she makes a personal choice. I don't know what I would call it and I don't know if that would be my personal decision. But I think her journey is rich and valid.”

While Juno does not choose to terminate her pregnancy, Cody reminds us that her choice should not be invalidated. Although the pregnancy is an essential part of the trajectory of Juno’s journey, it is not the most important part.

But Juno’s choice is inconsistent with her character. Admittedly, the scene when Juno breaks the news to her father and stepmother lacks tension. She remains cool throughout never breaking with her supreme self-confidence. Real teenagers experience more angst and torment for sneaking a Mike’s Hard Lemonade from their Moms.

Despite the absence of any noticeable tension, the bit of dialogue that follows is significant for the arc of the film. Juno’s father tells her that he thought she was the type of girl that ‘knew when was when.’ Juno replies, “I don’t know what kind of girl I am.”

It is these words that establish the trajectory of the film. Before that point, Juno is just a smart-assed, punky teenager that so many critics found nauseating. In this moment, however, Juno is for the first time exposed and complicated. And this remains the question for the rest of the movie: What kind of girl is Juno?

This is deeply disturbing for Pro-choice critics. The answer to the question is inexorably bound with her decision to have the child.

Of the three films, Waitress is the most complicated. Whereas Juno and Knocked Up ignore the importance of class, it is the main obstacle for the protagonist to overcome.
It does a kind of tightrope walk on genre lines, often flirting heavily with romantic comedy.

Jenna (Kerri Russel) is a country gal married to abusive good ol’ boy Earl (Jeremy Sisto).
She makes plans to escape but must keep it a secret from Earl. To do so, she hides money around the house: under couches, in jars and dressers. These moments of deception and calculation threaten to implode the entire structure of the otherwise light-hearted film.

Waitress opens a space for the voice and experience of an oppressed woman. In a kind of quasi-surrealism her thoughts are transposed into pie recipes that channel her desire to rid herself of the child, the husband, her affair and the town. This makes for a disturbingly beautiful motif that undercuts the otherwise conservative tenor of the premise. It is here in this otherwise domestic activity where Jenna finds a ‘room of her own.’


While devoid of the gritty realism of a film like “4 Months” it is commentary nonetheless. Waitress employs the very repressive tropes of this conservative age and injects them with a subtle critique. It is both accessible and speaks to a class of women that both Juno and Knocked Up remain impervious to. Moreover, it expresses this historical moment in the United States in a way that a foreign film cannot.

Despite receiving stellar critical reception Waitress was not nominated for any awards. It is a rare film in both its originality and depth and may very well become an American classic. Unfortunately, it has been lumped together with a pair of unworthy films based on the superficiality of politically oriented critique.