Watching Everything Everywhere All at Once with my mom altered by brain chemistry

An ode to films that capture the complexity of the strained mother-daughter dynamic

I didn’t know what the movie was about before watching it.

I’d heard it was a multiverse film, not Marvel though, and that Michelle Yeoh’s performance was one to remember. That was enough to get me in the theatre.

What I thought was going to be a silly, happy-go-lucky multiverse film ended up being a tender and lavish exploration of the wrought relationship between an immigrant mother and the daughter who ravages every single reality to be truly seen by her. Unknowingly, I had a front row seat to this film with my own immigrant mother.

I don’t know that I have ever resonated with a character more than I resonated with the bubbling rage, desperation, emptiness and brimming love personified by Stephanie Hsu’s Joy Wang.

Joy and her mother Evelyn have a complex relationship. Joy understands that Evelyn’s life is filled with stress and familial expectation, but between the strains of generational difference, cultural expectation, and the factually painful dynamic that exists between so many mothers and daughters, they struggle to truly connect.

No matter what Joy does, she falls just short in the eyes of her mother. She knows that she hasn’t lived up to the hopes and dreams Evelyn has pinned on her. She’s crushed by the sheer expectation of it all, and the evident defiance of living her life on her own terms drives Joy away from her home more times at once. Instead, she finds solace and acceptance in her relationship with her girlfriend Becca, who encourages Joy to make more of an effort with her mother.

Sitting in the theatre, my Mom and I watched a dynamic not entirely unlike ours unfold on screen. We watched a mother who spent her life bogged down by problem solving. She’s the only one who seems to remember where everything is. She cooks and cleans and is visibly exhausted by the life that she chose (sometimes regrettably) to live within. In the end, it’s the very mundane nature of her existence that the fate of the universe hinges extraordinarily upon.

We see Joy navigate her crippling sense of existential dread, depression and loneliness throughout even the most absurd landscapes of the universe. What she fails to say directly to Evelyn, Joy channels into performances, humour and a blind rage that extends beyond the confines of time and space. For Joy, confronting the totality of human experience (“The Bagel”) is easier than trying to get through to her Mom.

As I was watched the movie, I felt uniquely vulnerable. I noticed my Mom stealing glances over at me when I would cry. I would take a mental note of when she did the same. We were watching the movie, sure, but we took the rare opportunity to study each other with our defenses down. We looked to the film to reveal our innermost emotions so we wouldn’t have to communicate them.

On Twitter, I saw a lot of people talk about how they broke down in the last moments of the film. It’s the scene where Evelyn proclaims to Joy that despite the confusion and unpleasantness their relationship holds, she would always choose to be right there with her. Their love transcends discomfort.

But for me and my Mom, it was the rock scene that got us.

After Evelyn’s turbulent and frankly overstimulating search for Joy/Jobu Tupaki, the duo end up in a universe where life was never able to form. Instead they sit as two rocks overlooking a canyon, communicating through captions that the audience reads in a moment of sensory solace.

It was here that I felt the most held by this film. In a world of noise, pride, uncertainty and sorrow, Joy really craves a stillness and unwavering connection with Evelyn. Despite traversing through a cacophony of realities in search of maternal love, Joy came about as close to feeling understood in a universe where the only living things were her and her mother.

I realized then that it’s the moment of silence that illuminate my relationship with my Mom. Sitting quietly and enjoying an old hindi film together, over a cup of cha. Looks of understanding when someone says something hurtful in a way that only we would understand. Silent grudges that dissipate before dinner. A love-filled gesture to say sorry.

I thought about what makes the mother-daughter bond so unique. It’s a love so overflowing that neither people know how to wield it. The truest mirror. A mirror to who you could’ve been and the mirror to what you may become. The kind of emotion and understanding shared amongst people who are told and held captive by what it means to be a woman. A hidden language that lives in the moments between. The kind of silence to be grateful for, even when I can’t make sense of it at all. Something sacred.

In the weeks after watching EEAAO, I reflected on other films that capture the complex dynamic between mother and daughter. I of course thought about Greta Gerwig’s Lady Bird (2017). I thought of the letters that Lady Bird’s Mom never ended up sending. The quiet unraveling of emotion that’s so all-consuming she couldn’t quite capture it in words. I thought of the letter that Lady Bird ended up reading, and how the last scenes of the film follow her driving through Sacramento with a chest beaming with the same sweet nostalgia that her own Mother felt years ago.

I thought of the scene in Turning Red (2022) where Mei comforts the 13-year-old version of her own Mother with whom she has a jaded relationship with. I don’t think I’ve ever cried more in a single scene of a movie. The thought of wiping the tears of your Mother’s younger self, telling her the things that you wish you could hear yourself was such a powerful display of processing intergenerational trauma through curiosity and understanding.

One thing I love about all these movies, is that their relationships never truly get resolved because that’s not how life, or mothers and daughters work. They bring the discomfort and beauty to where the light can catch it and examine it. Where we can see the shades and textures of the hurt and care—maybe not for the purpose of resolving tensions, but to help us leave seeing the whole picture just a little bit better.

I don’t know if watching EEAAO really solved anything for me. But it gifted me with a perspective and curiosity that I didn’t quite have before watching it. It implored me to unpack the value of the hidden language I share with women in my life, and to remind myself that there are always moments of stillness and connection to be shared. That the noise will fade but the silence will sustain me.

I just have to slow down for long enough to remember them.