Photo by Liam McGarry on Unsplash
All Over the Place: Film Review of Everything Everywhere All at Once
By Geoff Carter
Everything Everywhere All at Once is a film that does more than live up to its name. It is a frantic roller coaster ride to the ends of the universe—and back, a sci-fi thriller (sort of a Matrix redux involving a series of characters pinballing in and out of alternate realities—and undergoing profound transformations—and acquiring excellent skills—along the way). It is an unexpected and laugh-out-loud comedy, a martial arts action film that would put Jackie Chan to shame, and—above all—a film about family. It is one wild ride, a blurred vortex of color, emotion, and action. Not only does it try to do everything everywhere all at once, it succeeds. Brilliantly.
At the beginning of the film, Evelyn Quan Wang (Michelle Yeoh), owner of a struggling laundry, is trying juggle her business, a visit from her overly demanding father Gong Gong (James Hong) for the lunar New Year, her daughter Joy’s (Stephanie Hsu) new girlfriend Becky (Tallie Medel), and an upcoming audit from the IRS. It soon becomes apparent that not only is Evelyn overwhelmed and stressed to the point of bursting, but she is also deeply dissatisfied with her life—and she doesn’t even know that her amiable husband Waymond (Ke Huy Quan) is filing for divorce.
At the audit the next day, the family meets with master IRS Inspector Deirdre Beaubeirdre (Jamie Lee Curtis) who, after looking at the Wang’s mountains of receipts, tells them that they are in big trouble. As usual, Waymond plays the peacemaker, smoothing the way for the family to work out a solution.
But, suddenly, during the meeting, Waymond’s body is taken over by Alpha-Waymond, an articulation of himself from the Alpha universe, led by Alpha-Evelyn. These alternates, like the Alphas, are from parallel universes which exist because every life choice creates a brand-new universe. Alpha-Evelyn has developed the technique of “verse jumping” or traveling to alternative universes. Once there, the jumpers acquire the skills of their alternate beings. So, when Evelyn travels to the martial arts universe, she acquires all the skills of a Jackie Chan. Alpha-Waymond has made this particular jump to warn Evelyn that all metaverses are in danger from Jobu Topaki, the Alphaverse version of Joy and that only she (because Alpha-Evelyn has perished) can save the world(s).
If all this sounds far-fetched, ludicrous, or unbelievable, it is; but somehow, it just doesn’t matter. Once the screenplay lays down the basic premise—in rapid-fire exposition—the movie takes off and never slows down. Jokes, sight gags, fight scenes, hilarious transformations (Jamie Lee Curtis from a pompous bureaucrat to a Godzilla-like creature crashing through the office), glamorous romance, and touching family drama ensue. It is nearly everything all at once, and, for this viewer at least, disbelief was willingly (and happily) suspended. There are several excellent reasons for this happy acceptance of the unbelievable.
Somehow, through all the noise and fury of an action picture, co-directors and co-writers Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert (the Daniels) have built this wonderful pastiche on an underpinning of the theme of family disharmony.
Alpha-Evelyn pushed her daughter Alpha-Joy—Jobu Topaki—to master verse-jumping so hard that she broke. Alpha-Joy is now able to experience all universes simultaneously, jump at will, and can control matter with her mind. Convinced that life is meaningless, she has created an “everything bagel”, sort of a black hole, that can destroy the universe.
Evelyn, like Alpha-Evelyn, constantly pushes her daughter too hard. Through a series of flashbacks, Evelyn realizes that she is doing to Joy what her father did to her, that the strict and perpetually unsatisfied parenting model has alienated her daughter—turning her into an enemy. This theme of family, especially within an Asian-American context, resonates between generations and explores the ways in which cultural traditions persist—even against the will of the participants—into every aspect of their lives.
The Daniels have also succeeded in addressing issues of existentialism, nihilism, and epistemology in this vortex of action, color, and entertainment. The “everything bagel” is the end of everything, of life as we know it. As Jobu begins to walk into it, to destroy the world, to (mostly) destroy the relationship between her and her mother, it is Waymond who persuades Evelyn to not fight, to refuse to hurt anyone, and—hilariously, it works. This is the magic of this film, to coat complex thematics with the frosting and sprinkles of humor and entertainment and color to slip these big ideas into their heads.
This is a beautifully conceived and executed film. It begins and ends with the saga of an Asian American family trying to deal with trans-generational stresses, expectations, and disappointments. The first left turn—the multi-verse plot—allows the screenplay to explore Evelyn’s disappointments and broken dreams, her “what might have been”. In one of the universes she enters, she is a martial arts expert and film star, mostly because she never married Waymond. Her battle with Jobu, her Joy, is a mirror of all the sorrows and emotional tribulations of a mother-daughter relationship.
While Joy is retiring and very unsure of herself, Jobu is a paragon of self-assurance, attitude, and aplomb. Arrayed in a variety of excessively extravagant, sometimes garish, outfits, Jobu personifies not only the embodiment of a personage experiencing simultaneous realities, but the desperation of a teenager grasping for identity.
The verse jumpers, traveling in an alternative version of the laundry’s delivery van, are a tongue-in-cheek version of the crew in The Matrix, but the jumping here, instigated by a statistically obscure action, (like stuffing something up your nose) is hilarious. In one of the fight sequences at the IRS office, a pair of Evelyn’s adversaries use Deidre’s a couple of auditor awards in a most unlikely fashion, to jump verses. This is not only one of the funniest sight gags in the film, but also a nod to the absurdist element of the entire film—sort of a meta-comment.
The Daniels manage to weave all these elements, and more, into a complex and colorful whirligig that cannot stop moving. Human existence reaches across parallel realities but always seem to mirror themselves; no matter how far they stray from home, Evelyn and Joy’s original versions never fail to echo some aspect of their reality.
To a person, the actors in this film give stellar performances, and watching them, it seems as if they must be having the time of their lives. Curtis in particular, whose Dierdre bounces from pompous bureaucrat to monstrous enforcer to hot-dog fingered lover to best friend is beyond funny. Curtis was always a gifted comedic actress; this role allows her to stretch her talent to the limit.
As Evelyn, Michelle Yeoh has a role which encompasses frustration, disappointment, pain, self-loathing, and fear to retribution, satisfaction, and finally, self-realization. It is a marvelous performance in a marvelous role. Finally, Stephanie Hsu nails the role of Joy/Jobu, a young woman who simultaneously knows everything and nothing and who believes everything will—and should—become nothing.
Everything Everywhere All at Once lives up to its name. It is an incredibly complex, funny, touching, and intelligent movie. It is very simply put: brilliant.