'Me and You and Everyone We Know' not for everyone
Is the film genuine? That's a good question to ask when a film is difficult to recommend. "Me and You and Everyone We Know" is genuine in its creativity and intelligence and sweetness. It's funny in a low-key way and takes a fresh approach to what me and you and everyone we know is looking for - love. Well, at least, connectedness.
Why is it difficult to recommend this film, playing now through Sept. 11 at the Magic Theatre in Nevada City?
First, the film covers sexual territory that will disturb some. It involves young teens and kids younger than that. I respect the fact that some people don't want to go there. That said, this film avoids graphic and exploitative tactics. Indeed, it avoids being overwrought and undersensitive, and it sidesteps preachiness, as well. In its most dangerous scenario, one image of poop and another of a kiss on the cheek sustain an unlikely balance typical of the entire story line.
Second, this is a major chick flick written in a minor chord, which makes it difficult to recommend it to at least half the population. It is poetry in movie form, and that's not what you'd call an automatic ticket seller.
First-time director and star, Miranda July, packs confidence into this quirky contrivance. She knows there is a place for poetic sensibility as sure as there is a place for loneliness to take itself too seriously and not too seriously at the same time. There's a woman - an artist of sorts - fishing for a man. There's a man doing the best he can for himself and his kids. There's old folks and a few others woven together in that lifelike place where you and me and everyone we know pass the time.
Part of the success of independent filmmaking in recent years is marketing savvy for crossing over into the mainstream. Perhaps a more important part of independent filmmaking is not worrying exactly what audience a movie is meant for.