& How to Watch Them:
You and Me and Everyone We Know (2005): Watch a bunch of characters do a bunch of stuff that's somewhat right, but mostly wrong, including (but not limited to): pooping back and forth forever, performing oral sex, impressing children with fire and eulogizing a living goldfish.
Dear Miranda July,
As identical twins, we have always felt different. Not just you regular angst, but weird. Really weird. As children, to cope, or just because it’s who we are, we each created incredibly elaborate inner lives that we frequently relied on to help us escape. We fed on an inordinate amount of television, saw every available film, and read constantly. We each had rich fantasy worlds of stories and pictures, sometimes crossing over into each others, but often something we felt alone with.
In the spring of 2005, we were 18. Both trying on adulthood, and finding it wasn’t a comfortable fit. When together, we were a tight pair, and we saw your movie, together, in the theater. Sitting quietly in the dark, we truly did not know what to expect, having not seen a trailer or read much about it. We entered blind and came out bright and amazed. In Me and You and Everyone We Know, we didn’t find escape, we felt understanding. We knew this was a special movie, a rare experience that reconnected us by reminding us of our inner selves, forcing us to appreciate our weirdness and humanity. Since then, we have taken a keen interest in everything you have produced. From your fantastic Rihanna interview to The First Bad Man (Andrea loved it so much she read it in one sitting) - we devour your work and feast on its intensity and humor. We love your characters and the freedom you give them to be weird, and not just privately, but with each other. We are comforted by your enduring presence and validated by your voice. This is a short letter and, we hope, a sweet one. Thank you for everything you’ve done and the sensitivity in which you do it. Consider us lifelong fans, patiently waiting to see what you will do next.