Me and You and Everyone We Know

Written, directed by and starring the artist Miranda July, this is one of the most astonishing films you’ll ever see. To say that it is quirky, quaint or off-beat I think is to demean it. Likewise, to simply describe the plot does not do it justice at all: a woman falls in love with a recently divorced man; a young boy talks to an older woman in an adult online chat-room; a man develops a perverse, but ultimately innocent relationship with two teenage girls on his street. All the characters are connected in one way or another, whether they know it or not. As I said, though, this is hardly a good description of the film. It has a language of its own. The scene with the goldfish on the car roof is extraordinary, and perhaps would better encapsulate the nature of this movie. Likewise the young girl with her hope chest, the man setting fire to his hand, or the tapping of the electricity turning on every morning. It is not impressionist, or predominantly visual, although there are certain tableaus that remain fixed in your mind. The characters speak with a simplicity that is at times shocking. It’s a naivety, however, that belies the complexity of the film. It is like a piece of installation art, except with a plot. The whole thing ends before it feels like it has been tied together, some of the dialogue seems stilted, and the characters’ actions are implausible at times, but then this was never a film that was going to give easy answers or solutions, or offer an accurate picture of real life. It is funny, disturbing, shocking and revelatory. A highly original, breathtaking movie that you won’t forget in a hurry.