Miranda July
Me, You, And Everyone We Know

THE REVIEW

"Me, You, and everyone we know" faced a fate similar to "Little Miss Sunshine", meaning it is a small, semi-independent production that, thanks to word of mouth, has become a Cinematic Phenomenon.

Awarded at the Sundance Film Festival, it received endless praise and terrible criticism, both of which I believe are exaggerated. First of all, in the midst of an infinity of bad, gaudy, and pointless productions, a film like this should be celebrated because it combines the pleasant aspect of comedy with an important theme, which is human relationships in this particular millennium in Western society. Without the dramas à la "Magnolia", without being overly sentimental, yet without trivializing any aspect of the theme addressed, this film is a delicate and intelligent representation, even if unripe, of a new category of directors, who deal with humanity, balancing between being committed and pleasant, between 'Indie' cinematography and major distributions.

Miranda July, the director, is primarily an artist, and this is reflected in the screenplay, which is brilliant at certain points in outlining the complexity of the characters. The screenplay softens the tragic aspects, de-vulgarizes the humorous elements, and builds the images. Those who accused this film of being pure aesthetics are making a huge mistake. Of course, the film has the additional merit of being well-constructed, having excellent performances, good cinematography, and sometimes visually strong scenes that capture attention, but for what purpose? For the story. Even a fellatio, or an erotic chat between a child and a forty-year-old, are episodes narrated with a detached delicacy that aims not to shock, but to tenderize. Emotions are only captured; the director leaves the tears, the laughter, and the final thoughts to the viewer. From childhood to old age, from divorce to death, from failure to loneliness, in an hour and a half of puzzle, lives are reconstructed which, in their apparent banality, hide abysses. Every character has their own story, and the interaction of these slightly crazy stories captures you, but without relying on the tragic empathy of films like "Crash" or "Magnolia".

To be watched, without cynicism or great expectations, but with an openness to Enchantment, rather than judgment. This film does not pretend to be artistic, committed, or cerebral; I believe it is aware of its own limits. To be watched for certain ideas, for certain scenes, for certain characters.

(Thank you for your attention, and I apologize for the brevity, but with films, there is always a risk of slipping into semiotics for its own sake, into hermeneutics, and into the presumption of certain critics who seem to want to review the specks of dust present in a scene more than the complexity of an entire film. Above all, this is not the right film for needle-in-a-haystack hunting, or for splitting hairs, or for making mountains out of molehills).