You Hurt My Feelings Review: A Funny Film About Being Honest (And Not-So-Honest) With Others And Yourself [Sundance]

We all tell lies in our daily lives. They're mostly harmless, little white lies, or lies to spare other people's feelings. But what if a seemingly harmless lie ended up doing some harm after all? In writer-director Nicole Holofcener's very funny "You Hurt My Feelings," writer Beth (a hilarious Julia Louis-Dreyfus) is struggling with her latest book, her first foray into fiction. The book is finished after many, many drafts, but her agent has yet to give her any feedback. Her husband, a psychiatrist named Don (Tobias Menzies), has read the book and told her he enjoyed it. But one day, Beth overhears Don admitting he didn't like the book at all, and too much time has gone by to tell the truth. The revelation devastates Beth, throwing her into an existential crisis where she wonders what else Don is keeping from her. It also makes her begin to question her talents. Is she even a good writer? She teaches a lit class, but her students admit they never even read her first book, a memoir about her abusive childhood. 

Beth isn't the only one doubting herself. The running theme of "You Hurt My Feelings" involves a group of characters all starting to question their paths in life. Don begins to think he's a bad shrink, especially since he can't get through to some of his patients (some of the funniest scenes involve Don working with a hateful married couple, played by real-life couple David Cross and Amber Tamblyn). Then there's Beth's sister Sara (Michaela Watkins) an interior decorator growing sick and tired of dealing with her picky, wealthy clients. And there's Sara's husband Mark (Arian Moayed), who longs to be a great actor but keeps getting fired from acting gigs. Finally, there's Beth and Don's son, played by Owen Teague, who wants to be a writer like his mother but continually doubts himself. 

The film cuts between all these characters as they struggle with themselves. That may not sound particularly amusing, but Holofcener and company find humor in all of this — while hinting at a darker edge (it's heavily implied that Beth's insecurities about herself have less to do with Don and more to do with her abusive childhood). The humor comes from how these people interact with others and themselves, and how they struggle with their rampant insecurities. It's something many of us can relate to — hell, who among us hasn't faced something and thought, "There's no way I can do this"? And who among us hasn't told what we thought was a white lie to spare the feelings of someone we care about? Don encourages Beth, Beth encourages their son, Sara encourages Mark, but are they being honest, or just saying what they think the others want to hear?