Me and You and Everyone We Know
Some films (and books, for that matter) are not especially promising in the first few minutes, and you have to be patient and give them a chance to draw you in. When we watched “Me and You and Everyone We Know” (“MAYAEWK” to save my typing fingers a bit) at the weekend, Mr. Bsag asked after ten minutes “Remind me why we decided to rent this again?”. However MAYAEWK is well worth a little patience.
The plot has a number of strands, following a group of inter-related characters. Christine (played by director Miranda July) is a video performance artist, giving a voice and narrative to people’s family snapshots, and trying to get her work exhibited by a local gallery. Her work reminded me of Laurie Anderson’s slightly, and there were other touches in the dialogue here and there that made me think of Anderson. I wonder if July is a fan? In her day job Christine runs a taxi service for elderly people, ferrying Michael to meet his new love, Ellen, who is very ill in a care home.
Christine meets and falls in love with shoe salesman Richard—-recently separated from his wife Pam, and trying to keep things together for his two sons, Peter and Robby—-when she takes Michael shopping. There are also two (underage) teenaged girls who flirt dangerously with Richard’s work colleague and friend, Andrew, and little Sylvie—-a serious young girl with a fetish for kitchenware to fill her trousseau.
This is quite a brave film. Miranda July tackles difficult issues like paedophilia, childrens’ curiosity about sex, loneliness, hope and longing, but it isn’t at all a depressing film. She treats the feelings of very young and very old with dignity and respect, and without patronising them, which is actually quite unusual. The whole cast is terrific, but the children in particular are wonderful. I’ve found it hard to get six-year old Robby’s adorably solemn expression out of my mind, and Sylvie’s careful ironing of the towels to go in her trousseau (really, who irons towels?) and description of how she would chat to her daughter while preparing lunch was heartbreaking.
The film captures the self-possession and self-containment of children very well, along with their contradictory and simultaneous yearning to grow up and escape the boundaries their parents impose on them and their fear of this happening. We see this particularly in the two adolescent girls, Rebecca and Heather, who are vicious and vulnerable: full of bravado one minute and full of fear about everything the next.
There was a scene with Peter and Robby working on the computer that particularly touched me, in which Peter was constructing an ASCII art image of a tiger (old skool geekery!), with Robby patiently reading out the characters for him. Both boys were so absorbed by their task, both completely self-contained and resolutely excluding their dad, knowing it was hurting him, but enjoying having that power.
Peter, Robby and the computer also feature in the notorious “Back and forth forever” scene, which I won’t ruin for those of you who haven’t seen the film. I found it hilarious, disturbing and revolting in roughly equal measures, but again, it was quite a brave inclusion in the film, and I liked the fact that July didn’t force any particular interpretation on us—-you can draw your own conclusions.
I also thought that the dialogue was quirky and naturalistic, and captured how children express themselves particularly well. For example, there’s a scene where little Sylvie is choosing a food blender, and asks the assistant about whether she thinks it will be a ‘classic’ or not (because it obviously has to last until Sylvie gets married). The assistant, a bit unsettled and irritated by Sylvie’s confidence and self-possession makes a joke about everything being computerised in the future.
Sylvie (confidently): Soup won’t be computerised. Housewares Saleswoman: Why’s that? Sylvie (with an air of explaining the obvious to an idiot): It’s a liquid.
You can’t argue with that.
I also loved Robby’s patient explanation of the ‘chore wheel’, which could come right out of a Laurie Anderson lyric:
Robby: Mom says we have a chore wheel. Richard Swersey: What? Peter Swersey: Nothing. Robby: A chore wheel. You put chores on it and then you can spin it. There’s this metal thing and it helps it to spin. It’s spinning from the metal.
I’ve focussed on the children because I’ve rarely seen such great acting from child actors, but the adults were pretty good too. Richard made me think of Zonker Harris from Doonesbury for some reason (but scared rather than chilled-out), and Miranda July herself put in a very subtle performance as Christine. It’s a very interesting film, though one that seems to polarise opinion.
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holds up hand sheepishly
I seem to be the only person in the world who actually irons her towels. But you know, when you don't have a dryer, they get awfully wrinkly and are a pain to fold.
by Frances @ 21/08/2006 5:08 pm • Permalink •
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I never iron my towels.......
I let the wife do it.......
(Is this where I duck?)
by Jonathan Briggs @ 21/08/2006 8:08 pm • Permalink •
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Who irons ANYTHING?! I sure don`t. Recently I found one of my t shirts to be ironed and I was creeped out and puzzled for days (visions of a very very patheic stalker sneaking in and ironing my clothes in secret caused me mucho chicken skin). Turns out some of our laundry had been processed by my mother inlaw for some reason ( I believe she has, in my younger days, even ironed my underwear, which annoyed me to no end). Anyway the answer to your question is Swedish women of a certain generation and/or neurotical obssesivenes ironed EVERYTHING!. You haven´t lived until you´ve heard them lamenting the demise of the "mangel" (a, and at times very scary industrial and large, machine used to stretch and press sheets, in particular, in housing common laundry rooms.
My wife on occasion exhibits spasmodic desperate symptoms of attempting to live up to her neurotic female ancestors standards but luckily years of counter programing prevail and sensible sloth prevails in the end.
by john(jc.) @ 22/08/2006 5:08 am • Permalink •
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Hmm.. speaking of irons and ironing..it is amazing what a web search on 'iron' reveals. For example, there is a page entitled "Let's take a trip inside your electric Iron". Not one of the more promising invitations I've had this week, but far from the worst. It appears that some people, perhaps with a fair amount of time on their hands, or maybe motivated by a messianic desire to tell the good news about ironing, have pondered the history, technology and socio-economic implications of the iron, and are willing to share the fruit of these intellectual labors with us. (There is a wonderfully moving and 'Steinbeckian' description of Texas Hill Country pre-electric ironing in Robert Caro's exemplary LBJ bio, 'Path to Power'...other than that my exposure to the art of pressing has been minimal.)
Now onto Laurie Anderson-alluded to in our blogmistress's review of Me& You etc: Should any of the bsag readership be in Southern California before September 10, there is a great exhibit, dedicated to the Dalai Lama, at the UCLA Fowler museum. Ms. Anderson has an installation in it which is quite amazing. it is an approximately 10 inch tall by 8 inch wide dynamic hologram of her and her dog sitting on a couch, featuring one of those classic performance artist monologues. Fortunately, the monologue seemed to have little relevance to either the Dalai Lama or Buddhism. I say 'fortunately' because there were a few works that appeared overly literal with appeals to 'be here now' etc.
Are there any major British performance artists? The English seem so gifted in language, humor and observation that I would imagine there must be tons. But I have not had exposure to any, so please fill me in. Come to think of it, I suppose performance art is very "80's".
Back to MAYAEWK. After reading this enchanting review, I walked to my local video store and was crushed to find out that all copies of same were checked out. I tried consoling myself with a viewing of "City of Angels" a blatant rip-off of "Wings of Desire", featuring Meg Ryan and Nicholas Cage. Meg certainly does 'cute and perky' with panache, but is less successful playing a thoracic surgeon on a spiritual quest. As far as Nicholas Cage goes, I have never been able to assess his gifts as an actor. He spent most of this film starring intently at Meg or off into space-two emminently stare-worthy phenomena, but hardly the stuff of scintilating cinema. Fortunately, my wife and I are dog sitting an elderly Jack Russell who needs frequent walks and I was able to avoid the last 3rd of the film. With luck, my local video store will have MAYAEWK in stock soon.-Tim
by Tim @ 22/08/2006 10:09 pm • Permalink •
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Wow. Lots of people are interested in ironing
Frances: I salute your dedication, but I don't have a dryer (we dry our laundry on the washing line), and everything seems fine, as long as you fold it as soon as it comes of the line. Mind you, Mr. Bsag and I are scruffy oiks, and we basically never iron anything unless there's a job interview involved.
Jonathan Briggs: I think that's were you duck to avoid your wife chucking the iron at you
john(j.c.): I'm with you on the whole not ironing thing. A great aunt of mine had a mangle, and I always thought I was very lucky to have been born in the age of the automatic washing machine and spin dryer.
Tim: I love Laurie Anderson's work (both recorded, live and her performance pieces). I think I wrote about it here somewhere, but there was an exhibition of her work at the Festival Hall to coincide with a concert (that I also went to), and there was a great piece which was a projection of a video of her talking about finding lip marks on the glass doors of her psychiatrist's office. The projection was only about 10 cm tall, and everybody found themselves sitting cross-legged in a circle around the image, like giant children gathering around a tiny adult telling a story. Wonderful.
I hope you enjoy MAYAWEK when you get hold of it.
by bsag @ 23/08/2006 4:08 pm • Permalink •
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>(really, who irons towels?)
NOTHING says "professional" like that knife-edge crease in your cupboard.
by Saltation @ 23/08/2006 4:09 pm • Permalink •
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Saltation: Yeah, but 'professional' what?
by bsag @ 23/08/2006 8:09 pm • Permalink •
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How could they have child actors saying those things, thinking those things?
by Theresa @ 01/10/2006 1:11 am • Permalink •
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