Is Nick and Norah the next Juno?

As the faux hand-drawn opening credits dance across the screen, it’s immediately apparent that the producers of Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist had hoped that this film would be the next Juno.

Featuring a cast of quirky high schoolers, music from a variety of not-so-indie indie bands and, of course, Michael Cera, the basic ingredients were all there to capitalize on the success of last year’s pregnant-teen comedy.

Of course, what the producers failed to acknowledge was the source material. Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist is based on a novel (of the same name) written by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan targeted towards 12 to 18-year-olds, aka Young Adult Fiction. As a result, the film suffers.

Nick and Norah follows the exploits of a group of high school seniors around one night in New York City as they search for an infamously elusive band called Where’s Fluffy?

The night begins when Nick (Michael Cera, reprising the role he has played in every other movie he’s ever been in), after leaving a depressing message on his ex-girlfriend’s cell, is visited by his band-mates Thom and Dev (Aaron Yoo and Rafi Gavron, respectively) who demand that Nick come into the city to play a gig. It’s at said gig that all the major players converge in a sort of indie-kid Midsummer’s Night Dream and hijinks ensue shortly after The Jerkoffs (Nick’s band) finish their set.

Tris (Alexis Dziena), Nick’s ex, shows up with her new man, observing that Norah, there with her friend Caroline, has arrived with no man-candy in tow. Norah (a straight-laced Kat Dennings), in an effort to refute Tris’ accurate assessment, approaches Nick (unaware of who he is) and promptly sticks her tongue down his throat. Tris, frustrated, tasks herself with: a. Making Nick jealous, b. Sabotaging Nick and Norah’s apparent relationship and C. Getting Nick back.

Enter Caroline, the drunken catalyst whose role serves as one of the film’s only motivating factors. Caroline (Sarah Chalke look-a-like Ari Graynor) is Norah’s extremely inebriated BFF who needs to get home because she is totes drunk. Thom and Dev, after seeing Nick and Norah playing tonsil hockey, decide to play matchmaker by offering to give Caroline a lift home while Nick and Norah search for Where’s Fluffy?

Commence about an hour of Nick muttering awkwardly, while Norah bitches about a cavalcade of irritations including, but not limited to: Tris, her own ex Tal (a very amusing Jay Baruchel) and her concern that Caroline will be raped by one of Nick’s band-mates. Nick is quick to note that the other members of his band are both gay and that if anyone is getting raped in the band’s van, its going to be a dude.

But, given the nature of drunk teenagers, shit hits the fan. Caroline, briefly lucid, finds herself in the aforementioned van overhearing a discussion between Nick’s band-mates wherein the two discuss the merits of their current band name, eventually deciding that it should be changed to Balls Deep. The drunken Caroline, hearing only the phrase “balls deep,” and being unfamiliar with the gents, escapes the van when the guys stop for food.

And so it’s on. The search for Caroline, the search for Where’s Fluffy? and the persistent whining of post-pubescent teens who believe that there is nothing worse than breaking up after six months. The ups and downs of Nick and Norah’s overly dramatic night are familiar when placed next to the life-altering events, relatively minor in retrospect, that shape the life of the average American teenager.

The laughs come predominantly from Caroline, Thom and Dev. Ari Graynor wins us over with her annoying drunk-girl shtick. Thom and Dev play an unusual role as “the wise gays,” Nick’s two buddies who, by virtue only of enjoying the company of men, seem to have everything figured out.

They play matchmaker, Dev counsels Norah on how to show off her boobs and Thom, taking Nick’s hand in his own, explains to Nick that love is all about “just wanting to hold hands.”

It’s a welcome change from the stereotypically depicted caricature of teenage homosexuals who effeminately discuss Sex and the City, refer to every woman they encounter as “girlfriend” and insert an obligatory “yummy” into conversations that mention Brad Pitt.

Ultimately, Michael Cera and Kat Dennings are cute as the film’s protagonists, but at the same time are underwhelming. Cera squirms his way through the film like Sarah Palin through a Katie Couric interview, without ever being really funny. Dennings’ Norah is irritatingly obliging as a doormat that is trod upon by Tris, Tal and Caroline, while awkwardly springing not-so-amusing jokes on Nick.

The characters aren’t so much funny themselves, but funny happens to them, allowing them to suck up any ambient unclaimed funny floating about the room. But, whether intentional or not, Cera and Dennings do manage the kind of awkward romantic chemistry that you would expect from a couple of teenagers.

At a tame PG-13, don’t expect much in the way of swears and naughty parts. There is a “fuck” in there somewhere and an off camera orgasm by a fully clothed individual, but Nick and Norah is definitely for teenagers, more the Jonas Brothers than the Doobie Brothers.

As far as the film itself is concerned, consider it cinematic cotton candy. It looks big and fluffy and thick, but once you chow down, it’s apparent that its weight is only an illusion. It dissolves easily and while you’re left with a sweet taste in you’re mouth, you’re far from full and leave knowing that you’re just going to be hungry again in a half hour.

Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist ** Playing now