Funny, poignant and fresh as paint, Miranda July’s prize-bedecked drama burrows into suburbia to illustrate a classic conundrum: children long to become adults, and adults yearn for the irresponsibility of youth.
A disarming synthesis of the cute and the cosmic, the mundane and the magically expectant.
Screened as part of NZIFF 2005
Me and You and Everyone We Know 2004
Funny, poignant and fresh as paint, artist Miranda July’s prize-bedecked debut feature burrows into suburbia to illustrate a classic conundrum: children long to become adults, and adults yearn for the irresponsibility of youth. And everybody is looking for someone who might, just possibly, understand them – and love them all the same. July herself plays a video performance artist trying to break into the local art scene. She's worried she might be becoming fixated on a harassed, possibly unstable department store shoe salesman. He, recently separated, is struggling to keep tabs on his two young sons. The boys meanwhile cruise the Internet for hardcore chat, while two neighbourhood wannabe bad girls cruise them… July has a rare knack for the sympathetic invasion of her characters' privacy. She's constantly surprising and entertaining us with their missteps and weird personal kinks, but the matter-of-factness in her telling is beautifully attuned to the inclusiveness implied by her title.
"An inspired début feature by acclaimed performance artist Miranda July, Me and You and Everyone We Know brings a fresh perspective to age-old human dilemmas… There are few moviegoing pleasures more satisfying than discovering a film that responds to the world around it in specific and unfamiliar ways… July isn't out to win a fan club or a three-picture deal, but rather to speak about love and loss and loneliness in her own private storytelling language. The result is one of those rare indie films that doesn't seem the least bit opportunistic – just the pure, unadulterated expression of an American artist's highly original personality.” — Scott Foundas, Variety