"You're the Worst Version of Yourself": A Review of the Freaky Science Fiction "All at Once"
"In the Multiverse of Madness" from A24 Studios: How's that for you, Dr. Strange?
Once upon a time, or very recently in a not-so-distant galaxy, the Wong family feared an audit: the immigrant laundry brought more frustration than revenue, and a visit to the IRS on Chinese New Year's Day did little to lift their spirits. Besides external troublemakers in the form of bureaucratic executioner Deirdre (perhaps Jamie Lee Curtis' most unusual role), the family is also torn apart by internal contradictions. The aged grandfather (James Hong) is looking for an extra reason not to be proud of his daughter (Michelle Yeoh's triumph) and her husband (Jonathan Ke Kwan): running away from home to a foreign country was only good in theory. Evelyn herself doesn't learn from her elders' mistakes, and just like that, she finds something to criticize her own daughter Joy (Stephanie Hsu) for, from her excess weight to her choice of mate. Chaos reigns everywhere even before the breach of the universe is discovered: "everything everywhere at once" seems to be Evelyn's forced lifestyle and motto, not just the title of the film.
Over the past five years, directors Dan Kwan and Daniel Scheinert have proven two things: their cinematography can piss off an untrained audience quite easily, and it's better to be together than apart. After the screwball comedy (or survival horror, who knows) "The Swiss Knife Man," some audiences labeled them the rogues and fools of the indie world, while others were desperately waiting for the next picture. "The Death of Dick Long" happened only two years later, but Scheinert had clearly lost his charisma and exuberant mise-en-scene without Kwan. Now there is a legitimate continuation of their joint experiments on the facets of the impossible. At first, "Everything Everywhere at Once" is a chamber movie: almost all the action will take place in an IRS office - dreary, stubbornly beige and filled with the rustle of papers. The place is inherently and mechanically soulless and airless: it is documents that rule here, not people. But not for those who can read between the lines: everyone is in danger, we must hurry to the parallel world (or bring it here), before the universe is stomped in a giant black bagel of existence.
There is no point in recounting the mechanism of transitions - the technique is so absurd and simultaneously impenetrably logical that it is better to see with your own eyes how without exaggeration the great Michelle Yeoh looks for flaws and fine print in the theory of probability. Psychologists would love it: the starting point of every new leap into a different life is to step out of your comfort zone - do something no one expects you to do. By plugging other Evelyns from the multiverse of madness into her tax reality - a famous artist, a kung fu master, a cook, a wife, and a mother - the laundress comes to a disappointing conclusion: the tale of missed opportunities ended up being the worst version of herself. But it's not a fiasco, either--being first from the end is also an achievement, and failure is a fulcrum for victory.
Reflections on binary choices, alternate universes, the search for the prepared path and other existential woes were the occasion for Kwan and Scheinert to open the trunk of pop-cultural treasures and shake out the whole sequence. If everything is everywhere at once, the method of existence of being and the cosmic froth of being, then the cinematic language must be arranged in the same way. From the poise and uncompromisingness of kung-fu action films to the meditative tenderness of Wong Kar Wai evenings, from the lost shores of Indiana Jones (Evelyn's spouse is the same boy from Temple of Doom) to the reboots of Wachowski's Matrix or even Ratatouille and Kubrick's Space Odyssey, quotation remains the method, one step short of an end in itself. Souvenirs from the Edge of Cinema also plays with perception: some scenes are damn funny and ludicrous, as "The Swiss Knife" bequeathed, during others it's hard not to shed a tear. But the intoxicating and fearless fantasy of Kwan and Shinert proves to be not so much genre acrobatics as a soul-saving film about not choosing your parents. Neither do children. And no matter how many universes there are, the differences don't flatten out: even if you're just two rocks on a cliff, there's always something to argue about.
The final volley of confetti before the curtain about unconditional love for kin might have seemed jaded and hackneyed in any other circumstances and coordinates. But today, "All at Once and Everywhere" is probably exactly the kind of tape that everyone, now and everywhere, needs. Its absurdity, elevated to a principle, once again proves that nothing is perfect, no matter how many universes we have to go through, but the dearest thing is already there. All that remains is to learn to love each other as Dan Kwan and Daniel Scheinert love filmmaking: sincerely, mutually, and forever.
This article was sponsored by Venkata Naveen Bhogaraju
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