Performance artist (and former Berkeley resident) Miranda July makes an assured progression from her multimedia performance art to feature films with this whimsical look at the difficulty of finding and keeping love. Like the multicharacter tales of Robert Altman or Paul Thomas Anderson, the film tracks several neighbors as their lives connect-or disconnect-in a mundane American suburb. Certain that his family is turning away from him, lonely shoe salesman Richard sets his hand on fire, if only to feel something. Not too surprisingly, his wife leaves him. His seven-year-old son Robby has more luck with the ladies, thanks to his skill at Internet courtships. (“You poop into my butthole, I poop into yours,” he writes. “Back and forth forever.”) His flirtations attract the attention of an older woman; meanwhile, his 14-year-old brother Peter connects with two competitive classmates. Working for an eldercare facility and trying to crack into the aloof art world, Christine (July) meets Richard and his strange brood, triggering a hope for companionship. In July's modern world, everyday people speak innermost thoughts, act on secret impulses, and yield moments that are sad, hilarious, and often surreal. Uninterested in the usual indie-film exposé of suburban life, July instead focuses on the magical strangeness of everyday life, of children who want to become adults, of the old hoping to reclaim their youth, and of all of us, and everyone we know, hoping to be loved.