Moi, toi et tous les autres

i had the supreme pleasure of seeing this film last night as the grand opener of the seattle international film festival. (this was the first time in the 31 year span of the festival that the opener was directed by a woman!) i loved it! contrary to some previous comments, i found the writing and the approach to the subject matter very adult. a less mature screenwriter could have too easily fallen into a dour and pessimistic mood given the subject matter, especially the instances of desires pedophilia and families torn apart. i think it takes a remarkable, mature writer and director to take these themes and turn them into a heart-warming piece of work rather than just another fatalistic, world-hating film.

the performances were stellar across the board. every character was completely fleshed out and truly human. i think that's what struck me the most about this film, the complete humanity of it. the title is apt, it really is a universal story of you and me and everyone we know. the comedy didn't have to be forced, it was funny because we could all identify and sympathize with the awkwardness of life.

i'd love to see more out of miranda july to this caliber. this was a huge feat for a first feature, but i have a lot of hope and faith in her talents for the future.

I had the good fortune to see this film last night at a Sundance Film Festival screening in Salt Lake City. Having viewed a few of Miranda July's shorts on her website), I hoped this film would live up to the level set there. It does. July plays the lead character in what turns out to be an ensemble of people, each with his/her own quirks, who are somehow linked together (most simply by being neighbors). This movie is made up of what might be a string of perfect little short films. Each scene builds on the previous scene, adding one more enticing facet to a personality; one more little twist to a story. By the final scene, each character has as much depth and complexity as some of the real people we know. Indeed, one might wish that everyone was as interesting as the characters in this film.

Much lighter and brighter than Todd Solondz chilling yet profoundly human film 'Happiness.' I felt they were similar in that they explored the strange things people do and say and the believable motivation behind them. Christine (reminiscent of Maggie Gyllenhaal) is a detached yet thoughtful artist who longs for romance and love. Richard is a lonely single father struggling to understand where his life is going after a recent separation.

The kids (who are each some of the best parts of this film) are caught up in an adult world figuring out who they are and where they fit in. This is an enjoyable dark comedy that had the crowd laughing at some parts and gasping at others. I left the theater satisfied and smiling.

Me and you... is the type of movie that you can come in at any point and get into the characters and the plot.I saw it at the U.S.A. Film Festival in Dallas.I missed the beginning,and I heard a few people walked out because of a soft porn scene.I absolutely loved the movie, the actors were perfect for the parts,all of them. I noticed that I was actually sitting next to John Hawke, who was very a funny, honest character.(He was laughing too)Expect to laugh,laugh,and giggle,I was very impressed.Miranda J. is brilliant,she is a really talented actress, who plays a quirky struggling artist,very funny.This movie touches on things that we think, and feel everyday,but are scared to tell.The characters do a great job of making you feel and love each and every one of them.

Miranda July's "Me and You and Everyone We Know" might be the most miraculous first fiction feature by an American in 3 or 4 years; it's rivaled only by Andrew Bujalski's "Funny Ha Ha." Christine (July) stalks the recently separated Richard (John Hawkes), who would try anything to impress his kids, and gets third degree burns for his trouble. His elder son, Peter (Miles Thompson) longs for connections that go beyond instant gratification, while the younger Robby (Brandon Ratcliff) gets all the funniest lines, mostly copied and pasted from cybersex chats.

"Me and You" is about the act of pretending and about performance as life, but first of all it's about extremely likable characters played by likable actors, foremost among them July herself, whose Carole Lombard-meets-Laurie Anderson deep ditz may be a complex stack of masks upon masks, but is more likely just the way she is.

The movie is notable for what isn't in it - both malice and pain are almost absent. Removing malice - July's world is one in which a kid can safely walk alone through some seedy parts of Los Angeles - is unfashionable, brave and, given the gentle tone of the piece, necessary. But the absence of pain isn't intentional: July would like us to feel the loneliness of the characters. But their isolation is more a trait of their personalities than a source of suffering. In this respect, the movie is perhaps too glossy for its own good. There's one excellent exception, revolving around a granddaughter's photo by an elderly woman's bedside, which becomes a substitute for a shared life that dissolved too soon.

The scene that everyone picks out is the walk to Tyrone Street. Richard and Christine decide the walk to the intersection will stand in for the relationship they're not having: first the unrelieved joy of being together, then the getting bored with each other, then the fighting and the split. Only they keep chatting flirtily, about whether the walk represents a year and a half or twenty, until they get to the corner, and then we wonder how they can possibly go their separate ways. Although this is as great as anything in the first 75 minutes of "Before Sunset," its emphasis is much more on romantic comedy than the rest of the movie. There are more typical scenes that approach this quality. A goldfish on the roof of a car. A child running his fingers through a woman's hair. A picture of a bird in a tree, in a tree. And the ending, where it seems human actions are motivating the sunrise.

The scene I consider the finest is a quiet one: Sylvie (Carlie Westerman), a tween spending her childhood preparing for life as a homemaker, gets a gift from Peter: a plush bird. ("It's for your daughter.") It would be unusual merely for depicting a platonic friendship between kids of different genders and different ages. But it's remarkable for crystallizing what it seems every filmmaker is trying to say these days: that there's something to be gained from thinking like a child. Through July's lens, it doesn't seem like a regression: no redundant literalization of fantasy is necessary. The achievement of "Me and You and Everyone We Know" is to show how the mundane moments of our lives can be mundanely transformed by imagination.