Me and You and Everyone We Know
Me and You and Everyone We Know is fairly intense. And as far as I’m concerned, this was certainly unexpected. As a whole, the movie is uneventful and slow-paced, and on top of that, it’s pretty short—not always a bad thing, but still. And yet, somehow, all the little things add up into a veritable masterpiece that will capture your attention and leave you longing for more in the end.
Objectively speaking, the movie’s various intertwined storylines are pretty out there, while at the same time eerily recognizable. There’s a constant air of realism and a sense of what you’d want life to be like, even though you’re also constantly aware of the impervious cinematographic coating. Add to that the identifiable characters, each more superbly portrayed than the next, accompanied by visual and auditory creativity on a budget, and you’ve got yourself one hell of a debut, and a movie that will stick in your mind for a long, long time.
Would I go so far as to call Me and You and Everyone We Know one of my favorites? No, I would not. Accolades aside, I felt the movie was too minimalist. With characters so seemingly versatile, one can’t help but wonder if leaving that much to the viewer’s imagination was the right call. Consequently, the movie ends pretty abruptly, which I just can’t justify. Of course, it could just be me; I suppose the vague crossover between plot lines is one of the movie’s strong suits, no matter how you look at it.
All things considered, if you haven’t seen Me and You and Everyone We Know yet, do go out and watch it now. The final verdict: 9/10.
