Most critics respond warmly to Miranda July’s debut, with praise gathering around her writing, central performance and sympathy for lonely people trying to connect. The favourable reviews find tenderness and humour in the awkward encounters, and welcome a lack of cynicism that makes the eccentric characters worth caring about. July’s handling of everyday details also earns attention. For her admirers, the film finds fresh ways to approach familiar anxieties about love and belonging.
The spread is wide, however, and the disagreement centres on how those eccentricities come across. Even some favourable reviews find the storytelling loose and the quirkiness overworked. The Guardian sees a smug, insistently cute film despite its funny lines and art-world satire. The New Yorker’s objection is more troubling: it finds the treatment of underage sexuality affectless and self-satisfied, while still admiring the casual richness of certain observational scenes.
