Me and You

[A] small, beautifully made film.

Bertolucci is indeed a master, and Me and You evidences numerous thematic connections to his earlier work as well as constant proof of his distinctive gifts as a stylist.

Me And You is palpably frail cinema, its every movement heavy with its director’s strain and the reluctance of a kid shuffling off to do his chores. And yet it’s also compellingly clear that the movie has restored Bertolucci’s strength, just as it’s easy to see why this particular story was able to reach into the depths and rescue a titan of Italian cinema from his darkness.

It’s a pleasing if minor piece of work, like a semi-precious stone that you’d still keep.

The movie is an underwhelming coming-of-age fable that skirts around its own lurid undertones.

Ultimately, such a stir-crazy two-hander can only be as interesting as its actors.

A lot of banality gets passed off here as profound thought. That and the somewhat self-conscious actors make it difficult to engage much with either character.