by James Killough
The second time I saw You, Me and Everyone We Know I really hated it. The problem was, we now owned the DVD. And we owned it on my recommendation.
That was the thing about living above the discount DVD and bookseller Fopp in Covent Garden. With DVDs at £3 to £5 each, we just went downstairs and bought them. So as the credits were rolling, Jonathan said with no small amount of disgust, “I’m surprised you liked that. It’s the kind of film I would think you’d hate.”
And he was right, of course; normally I’m allergic to American quirky chatty indie Sundance Festival-type films. But when I first saw YMAEWK (the acronym is certainly evocative in a gooey Kabbalistic sort of way), I loved it. That’s because I saw it in LA and somehow that made all the difference because that’s where it’s set. And it’s just too hard to explain why Hollyweird is so weird unless you live here for long enough to become infected with its weirdness, which writer-director-fine artist Miranda July captures to perfection.