Harmony and Me

Once you get into the groove of Harmony and Me and realize the film is not only very tightly scripted, hilarious, and quite brilliantly acted, you’ll quickly be won over.

Harmony and Me, written and directed by Austin-based Bob Byington, represents much of what is wonderful and fresh about the recent wave of ultra-low-budget American independent filmmaking.

Harmony is a finely tuned comedy, complete with precisely scripted jokes and comic set pieces that swerve toward the playfully perverse.

Slight, indifferently shot, and entirely lacking in ballast, Harmony and Me's sole justification for being is that it's consistently very funny.

Bristling with wry wit and peopled with a rogue's gallery of disaffected losers.

Despite the film’s sketchy aesthetic and barely animate lead, its tone is carefully contrived: I’ll wager no one in your circle is as dryly funny or spontaneously surreal as Harmony’s nonsupport group.

A slow meander through the mostly stagnant life of a character hardly worth the bother.