Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert (or „the Daniels”) are some of the greatest storytellers of our time, as proven by what is possibly the most provocative, spectacular, and flamboyant cinematic proposal of 2022: Everything Everywhere All at Once (which will soon be released in Romanian cinemas on the 10th of February).

It seems that the two set out to obtain the truth – in a two-hour and 19-minute-long film–, and to do so all at once. And they are not that far away from reaching this objective, since in this feature film, which contains in itself the potential for a series that would stretch over several seasons, one can find almost all imaginable cinematic genres, which one could hardly imagine they could work together in harmony: romantic comedy, psychological drama, science fiction, animation, superhero plots, high-octane action, and so on. Their film is more than just a simple artifice in cinematography or an extraordinary visual feat: it’s also a substantial story featuring characters that have depth and progress. 

Everything Everywhere All at Once is a frontrunner at the 2023 Oscars, with 11 nominations

In this sense, the feat that Daniels pulled off is a postmodern parody/pastiche, at the highest level. Although it gives off a predominant sensation of ease, of not taking itself too seriously, at a closer look, one can notice that nothing is haphazardly thrown into this rollercoaster of emotions and actions, and all these micro-stories and micro-universes lead to the multilayered construction of a meta-narrative that overwhelms through its implacable logic when it comes to the succession of its shots, through the introspective level at which it sinks deep within the characters’ interiorities and especially through its capacity of balancing these two main directions of the film. 

Nothing of the film’s established plot across its first few minutes anticipates the hallucinatory travel across time and space that the filmmakers are about to take us on. Evelyn Wang, a Chinese immigrant living in the United States, owns a laundry service together with her husband, Waymond. Like in every other year, she has to update their data sheet at the Fisc. Her relationship with her daughter, Joy, is a fraught one because she is unable to accept that she is dating a woman, Becky. Her visit to the Fisc, where she has to deal with a difficult agent, Deirdre (Jaime Lee Curtis), creates the fertile ground for the opening of a portal that will throw Evelyn across multiple universes, as her mission is to re-establish the balance of the cosmic layer of existence, which is threatened by Jobu Tupaki, a version of Joy that is imbued with superpowers, and who is known to spread chaos.

During the visit at the Fisc, her husband Waymond – not the one in the „regular field of existence, but from „Alpha”, the first universe to come into contact with the others – tells her that she is the only one capable of battling Jobu Tupaki. He tells her that in the Alpha Universe, Evelyn used to be a genius who discovered the existence of other universes, as well as a connection of sorts between her consciousness and that of her alternate versions, capable of accessing their memories, emotions, and extraordinary abilities.

 A touching story on the need for acceptance

Just like Evelyn, the spectator is absorbed into a hallucinatory race through potential universes, where the heroine’s goal is to remedy her relationship with either her daughter, her husband, or with another partner (for example, in one of the universes, her partner is Deirdre herself). Even though the current Eveylin is the worst possible variant of herself, like Alpha Waymond calls her, she demonstrates that wherever life may take us, we all have within us the force to regain the capacity to love, to accept the other and ourselves.

A superhero doesn’t have to master battle techniques, but rather, the courage to accept that one is not unlovable and that the only time one is useless is when we are all alone.

For its main characters, the film offers complex and provocative parts, which the actors perform in an exemplary manner, and their Oscar nominations are more than welcome. Michelle Yeoh goes through a tour de force as she jumps from one typology to another with grace and ability, from a version of Evelyn that is a martial artist (a field in which Yeoh has much training) to one that is gracing the red carpet. Stephanie Hsu (Joy) and Ke Huy Quan (Waymond) are just as versatile and multi-faceted in their travels through the multiverse, and Jamie Lee Curtis is remarkable in her two opposite-facing iterations: the mean and arrogant, yet irresistibly funny Fisc agent, and Eveylin’s lover from a parallel universe, as this latter story constitutes one of the most emotional and intense moments of the entire film.

Beyond the alert rhythm, the intelligent humor, the subtleties in the construction of the characters’ relationships, and the emotion that sets all of this into motion, the film is also a cinephile’s delight, which creates and intertextual dialogue with various other cult features in the history of cinema, ranging from The Matrix and A Space Odyssey to Ratatouille and In The Mood For Love.

Everything Everywhere All at Once manages to create one of the most touching and sensible stories about the need for acceptance and love, showing that we are capable of becoming our own (anti-)heroes and that when we lose our true connection with the person that we love the most, the entire universe seems to unravel.

Jean-François Lyotard once said that modern society has lost its faith in meta-narration, but the two co-directors manage to create an impressive macro-history in their film, starting from the micro-universes of the main characters. Somehow, it’s precisely the extremely realistic story of a family drama of a mother and daughter that sets the premise for a superhero story. And obviously enough, it’s a story that breaks away from the classical tropes of the genre, because, in Everything Everywhere All at Once, the superheroes’ intergalactic travels don’t have the aim of saving the universe, but rather, to re-establish a balance in a family in which all real communication has been lost, and wherein intergenerational traumas run the risk of perpetuating a toxic climate.

Superheroes – as we know them in genre films – are just simple people here, without any extraordinary abilities, save for their capacity to take ownership of their mistakes and to try to re-establish an authentic human connection. And in our times, this can easily be regarded as a superpower.

Silvia Dumitrache

Theatre critic for "Observator cultural" magazine since 2008, artistic consultant for Nottara Theatre in Bucharest. She enjoys to get to know theatre from many perspective, so, alongside criticism, she also did PR for Undercloud Festival and helped direct two shows by Chris Simion. she is passionated by photography and enjoys Spanish.