In some small, remote piece of the heart of Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist, it wants to be Juno. And there are a few similarities – the strangely familiar font choice on the poster, the hipper-than-thou soundtrack, the perpetually hesitant Michael Cera.

But neither Nick nor Norah is Juno. They don’t even inhabit the same world as she does. And for this go-around, that’s a good thing.

The film opens with Nick (Cera) leaving his ex-girlfriend a message – one that lasts at least five minutes long. It’s pathetic, and no one does pathetic better than Cera, who has the ability to transform the most benign of lines into something hilarious with his halting delivery.

Despite being distraught over his ex breaking his heart, Nick is convinced by his bandmates to play their gig that night, but only because the legendary band Where’s Fluffy is playing a secret show in the city.

The secret show prompts plenty of others to come to the city as well, including Nick’s ex Tris and her new boyfriend, but more importantly for Nick – Norah (Kat Dennings.)

In one of the many coincidences that help keep the screenplay afloat, they all happen to converge at the same venue where Nick’s band is playing.

From this point on, the film goes into overdrive with misunderstandings, miscommunications and plain old missed opportunities for each character, but to his credit, director Peter Sollett never lets the chaos distract too much from the central point of the film – to get Nick and Norah to realize how perfect they are for each other.

And in another surprising element, the partial gimmick of using indie music playlists and the quest to find a reclusive band never seems forced. It never becomes more than a background element, thankfully keeping Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist from getting too hip for its own good. The romance stays central.

Tonally, the film does have some problems. Norah’s friend spends nearly the entire movie drunk and gets herself in several situations played up heavily for gross-out gags and Tris is the ultimate bitch who is making out with her new boyfriend one minute and trying to win Nick back with a striptease on the side of the road the next.

These elements belong in a different film, but when the screenplay isn’t getting distracted with trying to transform itself into the typical teen flick, it’s utterly sweet. The film plays like a love letter to New York City – but not the typical New York. Times Square and Pennsylvania Station make fleeting appearances, but primarily, this film revels in the non-tourist portion of the city, taking us down side streets and to obscure music clubs.

And it also revels in young love – the kind that is forged through an all-night trek through the city to find your favorite band, the kind that owes its lifeblood to loving the same song, the kind that is gloriously awkward. Cera and Dennings make the whole thing come together beautifully, and a climactic scene of intimacy in a recording studio has the potential to become iconic like John Cusack, Peter Gabriel and a boom box.

Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist can be shallow, inconsistent, and undependable at times, but it’s so charming, it’s hard to hold any of those things against in. Besides, it wouldn’t be in the spirit of young love to do anything but overlook those flaws, right?