Miranda July and John Hawkes
A.O. Scott loves Me and You and Everyone We Know, and pleads, "I like [this film] very much, and I hope you will, too." It's an authentic wish that everyone could see the good in something that many won't bother to see the good in. (Plus it makes you feel a weird, nebulous guilt about a bad thing you haven't even done yet.) But Scott's wish is deserved: July has pulled off the merging of installation art and cinema with aplomb, and the result is "touching, ... funny, [and] borderline creepy."


So maybe that's why even the bad reviews of July's film manage to say something great. The New York Daily News thinks Miranda July is a bad actor (I'm one of those people who refuse use the rather diminutive "actress") but notes that the film itself is a "remarkable achievement" and "has moments of real brilliance."

Entertainment Weekly's Lisa Schwarzbaum certainly took Scott's advice, calling July's film "an artwork not to be missed." The oddly touching encounters between the characters evoke life's perpetual missed connections—the whole reason there's a section for that in the back of every newspaper, the reason we search for a passing notice of a character like ourselves, but blush demurely at the thought of responding. But EW also admits that—like that pesky little herb cilantro—Me and You and Everyone We Know is a film you'll either love or hate, no way around it.

"Transcendence" is the word on the tongue of The Onion's Nathan Rabin. Rabin glows over the emotional transparency of Me and You, and makes special note of John Hawkes' shoe-salesman and his two sons, who engage in some endearingly bizarre sexual encounters, the funniest of which happens in a chat room and incorporates the word "poop." (All the other reviews agree the two boys are one of the exceptional pleasures of the film.)

Finally, our MetaMeta eyes come to rest on TV Guide, which allows that July's "eternally hopeful walking wounded" may start to grate on the nerves, the result is still touching and, like the character's odd love pursuits, "eventually yield results." The world may be one big missed connection, but at least Me and You and Everyone We Know tries to answer the ad.