On a figurative level, one can read this movie as an acknowledgement of Asian people’s multitudes—that we are more than one role or type. Audiences rarely see Michelle Yeoh in a movie that stretches her capabilities, one that gives her comedic one-liners alongside dramatic extremes. Martial arts are a mere facet of her character, rather than the end-all, be-all of who she is. This film feels like a statement of purpose that Asians should be able to proclaim their identity without having one imposed upon them.
Part of proclaiming and loving yourself is acknowledging all your parts—positive, negative, and mixed. One of my favorite details in Everything Everywhere All Once is how Yeoh’s character owns and runs a failing laundromat. This resonated with me because all four of my grandparents also washed clothes for a living. They used the laundry business to build a legacy in this country, for us, and for future generations.
But I’m also an adult now. And I can remember a time, not in the distant past, when I would have been embarrassed by this association and might have dismissed this movie as reinforcing negative stereotypes. Why did we ever look down upon this thing, which laid the foundation for our success and testified to our work ethic?
For me, it’s because when I was younger, I was self-conscious about how non-Asian people would perceive me. That’s what it was like to grow up in Bethpage, NY, which was 94% white. I was always, whether purposefully or subconsciously, performing my identity for a non-Asian audience. I projected whatever they wanted to see, in hopes they would accept me more easily. And when I went outside my house, I was representing and speaking for all of my people. The white people in my town had so little exposure to Asian Americans, that anything I said or did might have been extrapolated onto the next Asian person they met.
A lot of Asian Americans are nerds. A lot of our families did work in the laundry business. But when there are so few roles for Asians–when every role must speak for an entire people by default–we cannot abide by anything that might make us look weak, vulnerable, or disadvantaged. So we run from them, desperate to prove we are not like “those other Asians.” And we sabotage ourselves because those are the very qualities that make our characters three-dimensional and compelling.
“Everything Everywhere All At Once focuses on the complexities and dreams the main character had before she came to the United States,” said Tran. “She’s not just a side character running a laundromat. It doesn’t behoove us to say that those stereotypes and those common things we see on screen don’t exist. But what is more important is to talk about everything around that as well, and make the character multi-dimensional.
