When you think of a Everything Everywhere All At Once, a genre-bending, multiverse-spanning film that blends absurdist humor, martial arts, and existential grief. Also known as EEAAO, it’s the rare movie that feels like a fever dream crafted by someone who’s seen too much and loved too hard. This isn’t just another sci-fi flick. It’s a middle finger to Hollywood’s safe formulas, stitched together with duct tape, emotional honesty, and a talking raccoon.
It is a multiverse film, but unlike the clean, corporate versions you’ve seen elsewhere, it uses infinite realities to ask: What if your worst self is the only one who understands you? The movie doesn’t just jump between dimensions—it pulls you into the raw, messy core of a Chinese-American immigrant mother drowning in laundry, taxes, and regret. Michelle Yeoh, the veteran actress who carried this film on her shoulders with quiet, devastating power doesn’t play a hero. She plays a woman who’s spent her life trying to be enough—and finally realizes she already is. And then the movie makes her fight a version of herself who turned everything into hot dog fingers.
This film didn’t just borrow from indie cinema—it became it. It’s the child of absurdist cinema, a tradition that finds meaning in the meaningless, from David Lynch to the Brothers Quay, but with the heart of a family drama and the chaos of a video game glitch. It doesn’t need a $200 million budget to feel epic. It just needs a washing machine, a bagel, and a daughter who hates her. The directors, Daniels, didn’t make a movie to entertain. They made one to make you feel less alone in your own chaos.
People called it surreal. But surreal implies distance. This film is intimate. It’s the kind of movie that makes you cry during a scene where someone uses fanny packs as weapons. It’s the kind of film that turns a simple act of kindness into a universe-shattering moment. And it’s the kind of movie that proves you don’t need a superhero cape to be revolutionary—you just need to show up, messy and real, and say: I’m still here.
What you’ll find below isn’t just a list of posts. It’s a collection of pieces that live in the same strange, beautiful space as Everything Everywhere All At Once. You’ll find films that bend reality to tell human truths, directors who turned budgets into art, and stories that refuse to play by the rules. Some are loud. Some are quiet. All of them rebel.
From Spider-Verse to Everything Everywhere, multiverse storytelling in film uses parallel universes not for spectacle, but to explore identity, regret, and the quiet power of choosing to be present.
Read More