Everything Everywhere All At Once reaches levels of absurdity mostly unseen outside of Charlie Kaufman or David Lynch. Its endless appetite for zaniness can feel (and did feel) like an assault of quirk – a film composed of the nether regions of a fanatical reddit page – but then something of a miracle happens: through sheer force of will, the movie wins you over. The film’s writer-directors, Dan Kwan and Daniel Scheinert (known collectively as “Daniels”), are most known for the 2016 film Swiss Army Man, where Daniel Radcliffe plays a corpse whose boners and farts (among other things) help a stranded Paul Dano survive on a deserted island. That film won many fans who were surprised that the concept could produce something soulful and affecting. It would be an understatement to say that Everything Everywhere All At Once had a similar effect on me, because the truth is I was completely awash in its glory by the film’s end.
The film stars Michelle Yeoh, the Malaysian film legend known to many for her work in Hong Kong action films, as well as her international breakthroughs Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and the more recent, American film, Crazy Rich Asians. Yeoh has the regality of a movie star, even is she’s never devoutly chased Hollywood stardom. Crazy Rich Asians proved that her presence alone is enough to form a gravitas that few performers can command. Everything Everywhere All At Once functions as a stellar salute to the beloved actress, and a testament to her superb abilities, both as an acting talent as well as an action movie lead. Her martial arts chops come in handy as she plays Evelyn Wang, a Chinese immigrant living in a cramped apartment above a laundromat that she runs with her husband, Waymond (an absolutely incredible Ke Huy Quan).
The laundromat is underperforming and the Wangs are being audited by the IRS, but that’s not their only problem. Communications between husband and wife have become so strained that Waymond is considering serving divorce papers. Their daughter, Joy (a terrific Stephanie Hsu), is an overwhelmed burnout frequently trying (and failing) to get Evelyn to accept her queerness. Evelyn’s ornery father, Gong Gong (James Hong in an I’m-still-here performance for the ages), is watching over everything with a measured disapproval that has haunted Evelyn her entire life. Despite all this, the Wangs are planning a party for the Chinese New Year, inviting all of their patrons to join. Joy wants to invite her girlfriend, Becky (Tallie Medel), and to explain to the intolerant Gong Gong that she is – in fact – gay, but Evelyn warns against it, considering the success of the party over her daughter’s feelings and identity.
It’s before and during a particularly stressful meeting with an IRS inspector, Deirdre Beaubeirdra (Jamie Lee Curtis, in a part that is a lot more than you think), that Evelyn begins to notice Waymond acting strange. Sudden jolts will turn him into a total stranger, showing off a physical and mental alacrity that she’s unfamiliar with. This new Waymond (he calls himself “Alpha Waymond”) explains to her: she is just one Evelyn within a multiverse of Evelyns, and now she (the most disappointing of them all) is being called upon to rescue the universe. The details are sprawling and convoluted, but before she can even understand it all, Evelyn is sucked into it, visualizing her different life paths, with results as disparate as movie star, kung fu master, opera singer, hibachi chef, and a lesbian with hot dogs for fingers. The goal is to take down Jobu Tupaki – the Joy from Alpha Waymond’s universe, who is trying to take down human existence after the now-deceased Alpha Evelyn pushed her away.
If you’re thinking that a) the film’s ludicrous conceit is completely off the rails or b) the metaphors are a bit pedantic, then you’re actually correct on both counts. What’s special about Everything Everywhere is that it turns both of those things to its advantage, letting the insanity of the filmmaking feed into the über-earnestness of its story in unpredictable ways. The film’s first half gives itself a titanic world-building burden, constantly reforming its narrative and undoing the physical nature of its setting. It’s enough to drive you mad until you get to the film’s second half and you realize that that was the point all along. The stunning conclusion is a powerhouse of emotion, a stirring statement against the nihilism and fatalism prevalent throughout everyday life; an argument for peculiar individualism and the unseen beauties of everyday life.
Everything Everywhere feels like a soothing antidote to our current slate of Hollywood fare. The monolithic progression of franchise films (and the brainwashed audiences that are committed to them) has began eating itself to such a degree that the introduction of multiverses is really all they can do to keep getting bigger. (“Here’s a movie with three Spider-Mans and another with two Doctor Stranges!”) The multiverse in Everything Everywhere is not a quaint alternative, but actually a much larger, more creatively ambitious interpretation of the concept. Its kinetic, untamed energy is so singular, so refreshing. Everything Everywhere‘s multiverse delves into Evelyn in both existential and spiritual ways, refining a character into something real; whereas the Marvel films’ multiverses are yet another contrivance to keep the story from ever ending.
Yeoh is the unquestioned star here, putting all of her intellectual depth and physical precision on display. Kwan and Scheinert are making a showcase for her, giving her not only a role in which to excel but also memorializing her life’s work – all while giving her a massive name-above-the-marquee billing that she’s never gotten in the US before. The entire script is molded to Yeoh’s strengths, but it is actually Hsu’s Joy and Quan’s Waymond that carry the film’s dramatic beats to their highest points.. Quan – in a film he calls his comeback after not acting for twenty years – shows off a profound array of physical comedy and emotional sensitivity, dominating large parts of the film while taking on an astonishing amount of responsibility for the film’s robust exposition. Hsu’s performance is even trickier, playing both Evelyn’s overwrought daughter as well as the movie’s main antagonist. It’s two completely different versions of the same person, and Hsu finds the through line between it all. The movie only works if she’s as good as she is in this part, and in a perfect world, this would be a gateway to a stardom of her own.
I’ve never seen Swiss Army Man, as I hardly ever seek out films in which the hook is how well it hurdles its own self-imposed low expectations. Perhaps I should reconsider, because Everything Everywhere All At Once shows Kwan and Scheinert to be quite adept at navigating their own idiosyncratic impulses and weaponizing them properly in ways that serve their actors and their script. It’s rampant, uppity energy would be insufferable under the guise of a less committed pair of filmmakers. Their guidance of the excellent cast and thrilling fight sequences is what makes the movie tick, but the leveled patience of the script, to let us wade through the layers of preposterous visual cues before presenting us with the narrative heft, is exceptional. It is a gross understatement to say this is unlike any other movie you can see right now, but it is so, and it’s pure delight to see that, even in a time where cinematic variety is dwindling, we can still get something so vibrant and original to watch.
Written and Directed by Dan Kwan & Daniel Scheinert