“Everything, Everywhere, All At Once” lives up to its title in both its narrative and its form.

The movie is, variously, a sci-fi-kung fu-family drama-absurdist-comedy-arthouse-action film. The plot evolves along at least seven different parallel timelines simultaneously, and one of the key emotional moments happens as a series of silent, near-static shot of two rocks. The movie is disgusting, hilarious, and heartrending, often all at once. There is no reason it should work — but it does, marvelously well.

The whole film feels like an amusement park ride, carefully engineered to create a functional whole that whips you through a set of thrills while seeming to teeter, always, on the edge of collapse. It is an asymptote, approaching, but never quite reaching, derailment. Indeed, the chaos allows for a near constant stream of homages, references and re-imaginings without ever once becoming predictable.

The first fight is a delightful, ludicrous nod kung fu films that swaps in a fanny pack for nunchucks, and absurdity builds from there. Over the course of the movie sign spinning, WWE and the contents of a kink dungeon all make an appearance in combat. Possibly the best scene begins with the main villain strolling out of an elevator in a rhinestone encrusted Elvis suit, walking a pig on a leash; it ends with her bludgeoning a hapless IRS guard with an oversized dildo — and it somehow all makes sense.

The movies ability to be unpredictable without being inexplicable carries through to the emotional narrative. The ending has at least three beats to it, each of which feels satisfying enough to be the ending the film lands on. By layering them the film manages to keep the viewer in suspense, and tells a familiar story of family reconciliation in a way that feels genuinely unexpected and wholly earned.   

Everything, Everywhere is very self conscious about the fact that it is cinema, with all the tools, tropes, and winking asides that entails. But the filmmakers can play with the medium because they know it so well. Ultimately what makes the film work is the fact that the rails are so solid, guiding the viewers through the multiverse with costumes, set design, and good screen writing. It is constantly surprising, always changing, but never confusing. The medium, astoundingly, is pushed to its limit while strengthening the message.