Now, ‘Juno’ director Jason Reitman and screenwriter Diablo Cody are back with ‘Young Adult,’ an upcoming dramedy dropped into the schedule for maximum Oscar consideration – Dec. 9.

The trailer offers a far different vibe than ‘Juno,’ but there’s a snarkiness that unites the two projects. Charlize Theron stars as a former high school princess who returns home and decides to win back and old flame (Patrick Wilson). But said flame is already married and has a child on the way.

“We can beat this thing together,” she tells him in the trailer’s kiss-off line.

Cody earned an Oscar for her ‘Juno’ script, but she’s still an unpredictable force in the film industry. Her attempt at wink-wink horror, 2009’s ‘Jennifer’s Body,’ showed a serious lack of understanding for an admittedly tricky genre. She had better luck as a driving force behind Showtime’s ‘The United States of Tara.’

But Reitman may be the surest bet in Hollywood these days. His first three movies – ‘Thank You for Smoking,’ ‘Juno’ and ‘Up in the Air’ – reveal a gifted filmmaker with a penchant for quality material. His presence alone is enough to make ‘Young Adult’ one of the year’s must-see movies.

Let’s be clear – Battle: Los Angeles is a terrific action film that makes no bones about its pro-American, pro-military agenda.  And that fact has invited carping from the usual suspects, lefty movie critics who work themselves up into a lather over the portrayal of better men than they will ever be.   

And note that when I use the term “men” here, I include the fighting women of the US armed forces – don’t worry, critics:  Heroines like Sergeant Leigh Ann Hester will protect you . . . just move to the rear with the children and try not to get in the way. 

The fact is that science fiction has long been a tool to comment on the present, including the relationship between our warriors and our society.  Robert Heinlein’s Starship Troopers was a fascinating depiction of military life as well as what the author saw as a degrading, decaying culture.  The Paul Verhoeven film of the same name, though different in tone, had its own insights into military vulture, including coed showers and a machine gun-packing Doogie Howser.

The Forever War mirrored Joe Haldeman’s Vietnam War experiences.  Aliens, back before James Cameron decided that American troops were an enemy to be exterminated, has a solid take on military life.  Even the popcorn flick Independence Day, superficially similar in theme if not tone, demonstrated the military values of courage and honor – plus it featured a 9mm M9 Beretta-firing Adam Baldwin.

As awesome as Battle: LA is – and it is awesome – it is also sad that the only way Hollywood will depict the brave men and women of our modern armed forces is in the context of a fantasy.  There’s no need to create hideous villains – they exist.  Too bad the people who greenlight movies can get behind zapping space bugs from Venus but dare not depict the struggle of our troops against the buddies of the scumbags who flew planes into our buildings a decade ago.

There is nothing wrong with Battle: LA itself.  It is highly entertaining and visually spectacular, especially to those of us who live in Los Angeles and know the area – I drove through one of the battle locations this very afternoon.  And, most importantly, it gets the troops right. 

The tough sergeant is dead on in many ways, while each of the characters is a distinct individual that anyone who has served in uniform will recognize.  The critics’ whining about “cardboard characters” is simply nonsense – the fact is most of these limo liberals probably don’t know any warriors.  If there was any doubt their “criticism” is simply agenda-fueled cheerleading, their “Eek, a mouse!” reaction to Battle: LA proves it.  Frankly, its characters (thanks in no small part to a team of talented young actors I look forward to seeing again in the future) were more authentic than the hipster smartasses of the insufferable Juno or the fake cowpokes of Brokeback Mountain.  But then, it might take a little courage to stand up at a Manhattan cocktail party and say “You know, I really felt the camaraderie of the Marines in Battle: LA…wait, are you ok?  Someone call a doctor!”

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It hit me personally as well, especially in the form of the young lieutenant taking his unit into theater for the first time – because twenty years ago that was me during Desert Storm.   Here’s a special shout-out to actor Ramon Rodriguez as Second Lieutenant Martinez – he got it.  The desire to accomplish the mission, the responsibility for his platoon, the knowledge that as a lieutenant he really didn’t know anything – and further props to Aaron Eckhart as Staff Sergeant Nantz, who helps train his lieutenant  as generations of noncommissioned officers have trained their officers (including this one). 

What’s interesting too is how the Marines learn and adapt to fight the invaders.  In an early scene, they are nearly routed in an ambush sequence so well-directed that I almost shouted “Get that %$#&%$ machine gun firing!” at the screen when everyone went to ground.  But the unit pulls together and they do what US troops always do – they adapt, improvise and overcome. 

The end scene is particularly welcome – let’s just say that Kumbayah ain’t on these guys’ iPods.  Battle: LA, in a way, commits two acts of Hollywood sacrilege.  It shows American troops as heroes, and it proudly says that our country is worth fighting for.  No wonder Roger Ebert is spazzing out on Twitter; this kind of thoughtcrime is a million times more transgressive than all the pretentious “Let’s freak out the bourgeois squares” art film nonsense he’s defended over the years.

Also appreciated – the scene where the Marines link up with a Soldier who announces he’s part of the 40^th Infantry Division – the California Army National Guard unit whose patch I wore for nearly two decades.

As exciting and fun and welcome as Battle: LA is, it’s just too bad that the only time American fighting men and women seem to get treated with any respect in Hollywood is if the war that’s being depicted happened a half-century ago, or if the enemy has tentacles.  Well, there is a real enemy out there, one who wants us enslaved or dead.  When is Hollywood going to display even one one-hundredth of the courage of America’s warriors and dare to tell that story?

But when we look at the leading actresses of 2010, the dearth of great performances and great parts is stunning.  The Golden Globe nominees for best actress this year were Halle Berry in the anonymous flick Frankie and Alice, playing a crazy person in her usual over-the-top style; Nicole Kidman in the anonymous flick Rabbit Hole, playing a grieving mother in her usual cold and remote style; Jennifer Lawrence in Winter’s Bone, playing a teenage girl looking for her meth-making dad; Natalie Portman in Black Swan, playing a crazy person with a constipated look plastered on her mug; and Michelle Williams in Blue Valentine, playing a spoiled girl who gets knocked up, married, and presumably divorced.  Has anyone seen any of these women in any of these films?  And if the disastrous Natalie Portman – Queen Amidala masturbating, anyone? – is the frontrunner for Best Actress at the Oscars, how far have female figures fallen?

Far.  Quick, think of the ten greatest living film actors.  It’s not that tough – we have iconic male film stars all the time.  Now think of the ten greatest living film actresses.  Now take away all women over 50.  Still thinking, aren’t you?

The simple truth is that actresses were far more iconic fifty years ago than they are now.  We may want to shtup most of the actresses we see on screen today, but we don’t show up to see them because of their standout screen personas.  That isn’t because today’s actresses are less talented than their predecessors – we have many talented actresses on the scene.  It’s because screen executives have decided that truly feminine women, with both brains and looks, are no longer in keeping with the times.  Instead, film execs have cut a sharp dichotomy between “sexy” women and “smart” women – it’s either Megan Fox or Kate Winslet.  Charlize Theron can’t play a strong, graceful, beautiful woman – she’s got to be either a lesbian serial killer or a piece of eye candy.

The feminism embraced by most of today’s execs is antiquated.  They still think that women must act like men in order to promote equality of the sexes.  Make Natalie Portman’s character a man in Black Swan and take away Darren Aronofsky’s idiotic and self-centered camera movements and you’ve got an oversexed Ronald Colman in A Double Life.  There’s nothing feminine about Ellen Page in Juno – she’s more of a dude than Michael Cera in the same film.  What ever happened to Bette Davis, to Vivien Leigh, to the old-school, unmannered Meryl Streep?  They’re gone, replaced with pale imitations starring in angst-filled nonsense glorifying aberrant behavior.

Ironically enough, the feminism of today’s Hollywood has killed the female movie star.  If Hollywood wants to restore that luster, they’ll need to embrace femininity, in all of its three-dimensional glory, once again.

1) Go to the right places.  I went to the Playboy Mansion to find an agent, and I did.  I was 21 and a Baptist virgin, and I found Betty from the William Morris commercial department there.  Check.

2) Wear something provocative to a Hollywood premiere so you can get free publicity.  I did that.  When I was an SNL castmember trying to increase my movie roles, I attended some Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan premiere (go figure – it was a flop!) in a see-through black shirt with a flowered bra underneath.  I felt ashamed, but I did get my picture in a few magazines.  All press is good press, and press leads to opportunity.

3) Date famous men or up-and-coming smart Jewish comedy writers.  I went on a date with Arthur Godfrey right before he died, and ten years later, when I was 30, I asked Judd Apatow to escort me to some Century City event.  I was pretty much invisible to him the whole night, but we did get our picture in People Magazine. 

That is about it in my list of cliché things I have done to help my career move along.

Well, today I walked out of a Judd Apatow movie crying.  It was the scene where the obese homosexual is fortune-telling by looking at the bowels of a sheep that has been sodomized by a person.  The movie was “Year One.”  I tried to be open-minded as I watched the first 20 minutes of masturbation, fornication, circumcision jokes, continual penis references, bestiality, violence, and Biblical blasphemy.  I told myself this was a PG-13 movie and the writers were “lost” so they didn’t know how vulgar they were being. I looked at the ten-year-old and his father sitting next to me.  I must be old-fashioned or something.  But, then I noticed no one was laughing.  No one was walking out either.  I was hoping that the crude jokes were flying over the heads of the poor children who were sitting there wide-eyed and innocent.  My daughter is 15 and she loves Jack Black and the guy from “Juno,” so I thought we could have a Mom/teenager date.  I asked myself, “Vicki, is this movie making you feel good?”  Myself replied, “This movie is making me angry, very sad, hopeless, and dirty-feeling.”  As the onscreen obese gay man poked at the bloody intestines and told the fifth anal sex joke, I looked at my daughter, and we got up and walked out.  I started crying in the parking lot as we walked to our car.  I am not from this world.  I am an alien.  No wonder me and Apatow never hit it off.