The Baader Meinhof Complex (review)
Oh, what a riveting mess!
Oh, what a riveting mess!
Now I get what everyone was bitching about last year with *Juno,* about how self-conscious screenwriter Diablo Cody’s dialogue was, how desperate it was to sound cool and hip even to the point of distraction.
What could have been a maddening portrait of spoiled self-entitlement is, instead, a plucky tale about how tough life could be a woman, even a beautiful one, in the 1950s…
People have names like Ryden Malby only in the movies. And we’re only expected to like people like Ryden Malby in the movies… though I don’t see why we should give in to that kind of peer pressure.

It’s just about two women doing something for themselves, for their own amusement and enlightenment, and not even to please their men — hell, they’re not even competing for the same man!

Oh, how I wish this was a knowing parody, not an unwitting one. All the overbaked tropes of the genre are deployed: the “scary” music, the “menacing” camera angles, the telegraphing every boo.
Tons of spoilers! Don’t read unless you’ve seen the episode!
Cancer is pretty much the same as the Empire State Building or the White House getting blown up… by a fleet of invading aliens… while the beloved war-hero President escapes in the nick of time.
Stupid narrow-minded provincial Alaskans? Hilarious! Especially when they’re horny white grandmas appropriating native Inuit culture for their own use! Stupid narrow-minded provincial New Yorkers? That’s our heroine!
If Noel Coward had written *Meet the Parents,* it might look something like this: witty and wise and totally lacking in poop jokes.