RECENTLY, “Everything Everywhere All At Once” (EEAO) hogged the local headlines again as Michelle Yeoh became the first Asian to win Best Actress at the Oscars.

There’s much to celebrate about the film, with such an ambitious scope, aesthetic, and vision that only has a shoestring five-person visual effects team.

Like all things in life, negativity soon crept in. Some came from insular, and frankly bigoted, worldviews. Others have pushed back because they claim the film has a pro-LGBT agenda.

Personally, I have very little interest in wading into the culture wars here, as whatever can be said has already been said.

I also know from experience and research that there’s very little to be gained from arguing with people with entrenched worldviews.

But if there’s one thing worth discussing on EEAO, it’s how subversive the story really is.

And no, it is not subversive for being pro-racial, gender, or sexual minority because those are themes one already finds quite prominently in the Hollywood mainstream, although very few people do them with the maturity and care of EEAO.

Note: spoilers ahead.

For me, the film is subversive because despite all the flashy visuals and flamboyant aesthetics, at its heart is actually a very conservative, “Asian”, story.

The story of Evelyn and Waymond is pretty much a love story for my parents’ generation.

The young couple who had to run off to America because their love is not blessed?

The anti-Netflix way of portraying love without mentioning sex?

The daydreaming about “what I could have done with my life if I hadn’t married you” (lines practically written for many women in my mother’s generation), but also ending with a reaffirmation of the choice of marrying what appears to be a generically unremarkable man (until you see Waymond’s remarkable love and kindness, that is)?

Compared to the kinds of love stories we see on popular media that are typically more sensual, anti-orthodox, extroverted, and romanticise the mutually uplifting and social-climbing power couple instead of zooming into the mundane and domestic, it’s all very old-fashioned, isn’t it?

One may even push the argument further and say it is actually such conservatism that enables the movie’s breakout line: “If there’s another life, I will still choose to do taxes and run a laundry shop with you”. *

This line clearly doesn’t quite fit with the Hollywood sensibility.

In the typical Hollywood version of a love story, this life is the only life we will ever have.

That is why those love stories celebrate a more kinetic version of love: one where the spoken reigns over the unspoken, fulfilled desires take priority over committed companionship. See “Titanic”, “The Notebook” or “A Star is Born”, for example.

That is not to say the more “silent” kinds of love don’t exist in Western society. But they are less celebrated in films or TV because all the “empowerment” talk in the West tends to reward the edgy and the bold.

Ironically, an episode of the hugely popular HBO show, “The Last of Us”, that tries to portray long-term middle-age love was review-bombed because detractors only saw the same-sex aspect of it.

In addition, even the daughter’s arc in EEAO where the LGBT element supposedly resides is not really centred on her sexual identity. As noted by astute viewers, Joy’s story is about depression; something Stephanie Hsu’s haunting rendering of the line “Nothing Matters” perfectly conveyed.

The genius about EEAO’s writing is that The Daniels have told a very personal story even as it grapples with existentialist ideas. In the movie, the fate of the universes practically hangs on Joy having to overcome her postmodern nihilism.

In other words, the film starts big by engaging with big philosophical debates about the nature of existence – not to mention sci-fi and kungfu movie tropes – but still manages to wrap everything in the end within a relatively conservative message: when you lose hope or meaning, hold on to your family.

At EEAO’s core are the themes of family, compassion, and togetherness; all conveyed without cliches or being cheesy.

To my mind, achieving this impossible juggling act is what makes EEAO’s big sweep during awards season a truly deserving one. It also makes some of our yearnings to see this relatively simple film as some form of conspiracy somewhat pathetic.

Bong Joon-ho, the director of “Parasite”, once said: “Once you overcome the one-inch-tall barrier of subtitles, you will be introduced to so many more amazing films”.

I hope that once we overcome our demons (and this obsession with looking for them in everything and everywhere), we will get to appreciate films that show us, whether liberals or conservatives, that, ultimately, we all value the simpler things in life. – March 28, 2023.

* The official translation used in the film’s subtitle is: “In another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.” I have opted for a more literal translation of what Waymond said here. Because “if there’s another life” speaks better of this hope in reincarnation as a second chance; a Buddhist idea the film engages with.

* A Forensic Science-Asian Studies hybrid, Nicholas Chan is interested in how authority is shaped, exercised, and more importantly, resisted in Southeast Asia.

* This is the opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of The Malaysian Insight. Article may be edited for brevity and clarity.