A deceptively simple tale of suburban romance, Me And You And Everyone We Know is a genre-busting film. Deeply original, it won the hearts and minds of Cannes and propelled debutante director Miranda July into households around the world. There’s a Todd Solondz quality to her unusual take on the world (she also wrote and starred), but is unburdened by his cynical and over-calculated approach. 

The comic value of her work is of the heart-trembling kind, born of everyday fear that makes it all the more real, and all the more outrageous. Chris (July) is a mixed-media artist who feeds herself by driving a cab. She encounters the recently separated Richard (John Hawkes) at work, he sells shoes. They’re attracted to one another but fear the consequences. It’s a recurring theme that sustains the film and gives July a springboard to comment on relationships and the leaps of faith we take very day. Richard has access to his kids but is unable to comfort them. The older boy finds solace in his neighbour, a young girl who finds her own comfort in domestic appliances. His six year old brother finds it online with a scatological fetishist. 

You can see the Solondz connection and like his work, Me And You And Everyone We Know is challenging, disorienting and alarming. In a seemingly peaceful construct, July frequently shocks while encouraging us to laugh and laugh hard. Ours is a weird world and that’s her point. Yet underneath it all is a compassion and concern that makes everything worthwhile. Just like life. And like life, here’s a film that will stick.

// COLIN FRASER