So, in keeping with my usual Independence Day and unBirthday ritual of going to the movies (My b-day is December 29, my brother‘s is January 2 — as these dates fall uncomfortably close to Christmas, we received our birthday gifts on July 4th when I was a kid — whether or not this personal validation on America’s birthday every year played a part in my pursuing a career in US history is still an open question), I went to check out the exceedingly well-reviewed Me and You and Everyone We Know, written, directed, and starring performance artist Miranda July, at the new IFC Center (a.k.a. the old Waverly, where I lost my keys during Apollo 13 a decade ago.) And? Well, July definitely has an original and distinctive voice, and I can see why some critics loved this film. But, frankly, her voice is also one that didn’t speak to me very much. Me and You deserves credit for its sunny disposition and dogged faith in people, I suppose, but frankly, after ninety minutes I found the whole enterprise a bit stilted and twee.
So the upshot is this…Miranda July is a struggling video artist who one day decides she’ll be smitten with John Hawkes (Deadwood‘s Sol Starr), a soon-to-be-divorced shoe salesman who tries (and fails) to connect with his distant kids Peter and Robby (Miles Thompson and Brandon Ratcliff) through ill-thought-out stunts such as lighting his hand on fire. I came in figuring that this July-Hawkes romance was the centerpiece of the film, and I was basically in for a smart, indy-inclined romantic comedy. But, in fact, Me and You spends as much or more time with Everyone They Know, from Hawkes’ creepy, pedophile-in-training partner in the shoe department to two sexually adventurous teenage classmates of Peter’s to the little girl next door, who has developed a slightly disturbing penchant of collecting a “dowry” of home appliances in her hope chest.
If this is starting to sound like a Todd Solondz movie, well we’re in the same ballpark. But, unlike the relentlessly dark and downbeat Solondz, July’s universe is a much shinier, happier place, where (in one of the more affecting scenes in the film) even a lowly and abandoned goldfish is loved by many and doted on in its final moments. And, at times, July’s “bright-side-of-life” vision was truly transporting, as when Hawkes is distracted from the final collapse of his marriage by the sight of a bird alighting outside. (“Banish all dismay, extinguish every sorrow. If I’m lost or I’m forgiven, the birds will still be singing.“)
Whatsmore, what seems to be July’s wider theme is an intriguing one — we live in a world where me, you, and everyone we know are likely more comfortable communicating by keyboards, cellphones, photographs, video, or other interpolating media than we are by simple voice or touch. After awhile, though, I confess I found myself pining for something more akin to Solondz’s trademark misanthropy. Despite nice moments scattered here and there, I found too much of this film precious and quirky for its own sake, and it began to feel less like a movie than a series of video art vignettes at the Whitney. Take it with a grain of salt — again, I could see this movie being more appealing to warmer, gentler, and less cynical souls…but, as for myself, I have to admit I had emotionally checked out by the last reel.
What’s the IFC Center like? I thought the Waverly would be boarded up forever.
It’s ok…nice seats. They’ve got a lousy policy whereby you wait in a tiny little room with your fellow moviegoers until the screening starts, tho.
The artist’work is lowered. It is seen as immature. It only shows people playing a game,saying over and over again that they love you. It doesn’t show how such immature games finally mature. The film makes up for this: games mature. The two girls, e.g., begin by playing a sexual game with their neighbor. At the end it becomes maturity and both they as well as him flee from it. The artist begins by playing sexual games with the shoe salesman(getting into and out of his car). At the end,when maturity hits, he talks about bringing her home to see his family. The shoe salesman is playing a whole series of games. He,at first,still believing that he is married to his wife,doesn’t see his wife’s affair with her lover as being serious(he, e.g., is still playing with the artist). Later on,however, it becomes serious(his relationship with the artist now takes on seriousness), he plays at rituals(his wife tells him to stop doing this), Then his ritual becomes serious(he burns his hand). The young boy first plays on the Internet but at the end he touches the woman maturely. The head of the museum plays at voyeurism(like all voyeurs she, in her contacts with the artist, assumes a pseudonym), later on she becomes serious when she kisses the boy. The girl plays at putting things in her chest. Later on,after seeing the boy having sex with the two girls she gets serious. These ‘games’ are quite modern,i.e. being played without parents. They also become universal(the criticism of the artist as not dealing with universal themes is answered in this film): human life begins with games which then are taken seriously(even the traditional girl with her chest begins by seeing it as a game)