Me and You and Everyone We Know (2005)

Don't you just love it when a film comes along and exceeds all your hopes and expectations and leaves you with that wonderful trembling feeling of joy reverberating all throughout your body like a guitar string strum in the darkness of a quiet, empty, attic. This, in essence, is 2005's Me and You and Everyone We Know.

In a way, this is typical American Indie fayre and it has scooped a number of prestigous awards along the way. It tells the story of Richard (John Hawkes), a young divorcee struggling to adjust to a new life as a single parent, and Christine (Miranda July), an equally struggling artist, and a strange and intimate connection the two forge following a chance encounter. Of course, in typical Indie tradition, it's about a lot more than that too...

...Particularly kids. This film has some magical performances in by kids (particularly the excellent Brandon Ratcliff), who depict some very interesting and strange young relationships of the kind forged by young people today as they, too, struggle to cope with an ever changing and often frightening world. And yet, that's possibly the best thing about this film. It has a great lightness of touch and that message gets lost in a dynamic screen environment where the word cynicism has no possible meaning or reality. This is a film that, at times, touches on some very serious themes (including the threats, both phsyically and emotionally, faced by this generation of kids), but somehow you never know it. It has to be seen to be believed that a film can carry such strong messages without being in any way preachy. July wrote, directed and starred in this and she deserves unbelievable credit for her astonishing achievement. Contained in this, too, is by far the scene of the year, the first to be nominated by me as such. It is a sublime scene, somehow touching on the dangers of todays internet technologies whilst delivering a totally unexpected moment of sublime and unashamed joy. Perfection.

Don't get me wrong, this is not for everyone and it does have its flaws. I say that a lot. But unlike most times when I say that, this time, I've got to add that everyone should watch this and give it a try. I can readily imagine a large part of the film-watching fraternity and sorority hating this, but I'd still recommend that everyone, everyone, give it a try. You might just find joy, fun, tragedy, tears, vast vast dollops of well-judged quirkiness and, most importantly, a slice of that wonderful, amorphous, indistinguishable, thing known as life.

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