Me and You and Everyone We Know

I watched this movie last night. I'd heard it was good, read Miranda July's short stories and thought they were good, saw the Cannes emblem on the box and assumed that it was the kind of movie I would really enjoy--smart, quirky, interesting.

Instead, it was like being stuck inside a bad dream, and not being able to wake up from it. Yes, I could have stopped watching at any time, but it sucked me in, while at the same time completely freaking me out. I don't know if it had this effect on everyone who watched it--I think many people may have even found it weirdly, disjointedly sweet. But I only found it incredibly creepy, like somebody went inside my head and then made a movie of all the bad dreams I had in my childhood and wrote them into the script for an indie movie. I'm surprised it didn't give me nightmares. I truly don't think this was intended as a creepy movie--I'm fairly sure it was only supposed to mildly shock and confuse. But because of who I am, it was one of the most unsettling, scary things I have ever seen. I felt truly disturbed after watching it. I can't really even bear to recount its plot here in order to write a proper review. Suffice it to say that I am deeply, deeply creeped out.

Good job, Miranda July. You have finally scared the person who never finds "scary" movies scary.