It’s been over twenty years since Miranda July’s debut feature, Me and You and Everyone We Know, premiered at Sundance and won the Camera d’Or at Cannes. In 2005, the world looked different. Social media wasn't a "thing" yet, and the internet felt like a vast, weird frontier rather than a corporate-owned shopping mall. Yet, watching this movie today in 2026, it feels more relevant—and maybe a bit more uncomfortable—than ever.
Most movies about "connection" are slick. They have a predictable rhythm. This one doesn't. It’s clunky and erratic, much like real human interaction. Honestly, that’s why it stuck.
The Weirdness of Real Intimacy
Miranda July plays Christine Jesperson, a struggling artist who drives an "Eldercab" for senior citizens. She’s looking for love, but her approach is... specific. She meets Richard, a recently divorced shoe salesman played by John Hawkes, who is so emotionally frayed that he literally sets his hand on fire to prove a point to his kids.
It’s a movie about the "tortuous routes" we take to get close to someone.
There is a scene where Christine and Richard walk down a sidewalk, and she decides the block represents their entire lives. They narrate their "future" as they walk, reaching the end of the street and, theoretically, the end of their time together. It’s deeply poetic. It’s also incredibly awkward. That’s the July brand: making you feel the prickle of embarrassment right alongside the warmth of a shared moment.
Why critics still argue about it
The film wasn't without its detractors. While many hailed it as a masterpiece of "New Sincerity," others found the "quirkiness" to be a bit much. You know the type—the "twee" aesthetic that dominated the mid-2000s.
But if you look past the vintage tops and the colorful set design, there’s a lot of darkness here.
- Loneliness as a deficiency: Like a vitamin deficiency, as psychiatrist Edward Hallowell once noted, a lack of human contact weakens the soul.
- Transgressive themes: The subplots involving Richard’s sons, Peter and Robby, deal with sexual curiosity in ways that would probably never get greenlit today.
- The Digital Void: The "pooping back and forth" internet chat room scene is legendary, but beneath the gross-out humor, it's about a six-year-old trying to understand the adult world through a screen.
Breaking Down the Production
You might not know that this film almost didn't happen in Los Angeles. Miranda July originally thought she might have to film it in Portland for about $2,000.
Eventually, she teamed up with producer Gina Kwon. They worked with a budget of just under $1 million. That sounds like a lot until you realize they had to close down roads for sequences involving a goldfish in a plastic bag on top of a moving car.
The movie was shot on film, which gives it that soft, saturated look that digital often struggles to replicate. It feels like a memory.
The Cast Performance
John Hawkes is the secret weapon of Me and You and Everyone We Know. Before he was an Oscar nominee, he was just this guy who looked like he hadn't slept in three years, perfectly capturing the "unmoored" feeling of a man whose life has just collapsed.
And the kids? Brandon Ratcliff, who played 6-year-old Robby, actually wrote a letter to Roger Ebert after the critic reviewed the film at Sundance. He wanted to make sure Ebert knew he was actually quite smart in real life. That kind of earnestness is baked into the movie's DNA.
The Legacy of the "Goldfish" and the "Quarter"
The ending of the film is one of those things you either love or find completely baffling. Robby, the youngest son, finds a man at a bus stop who taps a quarter against a sign pole. When the man leaves, he gives Robby the quarter.
Robby starts tapping. The sun rises.
It’s a moment of "radiant astonishment." Is he bringing the sun up with his tapping? In his mind, maybe. It’s about finding a ritual to make sense of a world that feels too big and too lonely.
Where to see it now
If you're looking to revisit it or see it for the first time, you have a few options:
- The Criterion Channel: This is the best way to watch, as it includes the "Miranda July: Where It Began" short and deleted scenes.
- Apple TV & Philo: Standard digital rentals are usually available here.
- Kanopy: Many university and public libraries offer this for free.
Actionable Insights for Fans of Indie Film
If you're a filmmaker or just a fan of the genre, there are a few things to take away from July’s work here.
First, don't be afraid of the "un-cinematic." Many of the best scenes in this movie take place in mundane locations—shoe stores, kitchens, bus stops. The magic isn't in the location; it's in the specific, weird dialogue.
Second, embrace the awkward. We spend so much of our lives trying to look cool or "together." Art that shows the seams—the sweating, the stuttering, the mistakes—often resonates more deeply than something polished.
Finally, look for the semantic variations of connection. Connection isn't just a romantic kiss. It's a quarter given to a stranger. It's a drawing on a shoe. It's a weird chat room message.
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If you want to dive deeper into Miranda July’s world, check out her 2020 film Kajillionaire or her book of short stories, No One Belongs Here More Than You. They carry that same DNA of "searching for something real in a very fake world."
Watch the film again with a focus on the background characters. Everyone in this movie is on their own quest for intimacy, from the girl with the "hope chest" full of kitchen appliances to the elderly couple in the Eldercab. It’s a mosaic of human desperation and hope.