Kris and I both loved this, its acid-tongued stream of one-liners a tart complement to its openhearted appreciation of all characters. Every performer in this film is pitch-perfect, special mention for Ellen Page who is as vivid and lovely and moving as everyone says, and has as good an ear for her lines as the always-remarkable Michael Cera (who seems to have an uncanny ability to find whole new symphonies of nuance in the blank-faced befuddlement of the poor guy to whom things happen).
I was most impressed by how the film, even as it turned into the skid toward certain generic expectations, confounded the tendency to lay blame or find a convenient villain or foil.
[Minor spoliers ahead]