Let’s address the multiverse-sized elephant in the room: Everything Everywhere All at Once is exhausting. The Daniels’ maximalist opus throws every idea, visual gag, and emotional beat at the wall with such frenetic energy that it’s hard not to admire its ambition but ambition alone doesn’t make a masterpiece. For all its dazzling creativity, the film often feels like being trapped in a theme park ride that refuses to end, leaving you exhilarated, nauseated, and desperate for a moment of quiet.

Michelle Yeoh is, of course, phenomenal. As Evelyn Wang, a beleaguered laundromat owner thrust into a cosmic battle across infinite realities, she anchors the chaos with raw emotional power. Her performance shifting seamlessly from slapstick comedy to devastating vulnerability deserves a better film. The same can be said for Ke Huy Quan, whose return to acting as her sweet but disillusioned husband is genuinely moving. But even their stellar work can’t salvage a script that mistakes relentless absurdity for depth.

The film’s biggest sin isn’t its overstuffed plot or its barrage of juvenile humor (yes, we get it butt plugs are funny). It’s that beneath all the kaleidoscopic visuals and multiverse-hopping antics, there’s a surprisingly thin emotional core. The central theme that love and kindness are the answer to life’s meaninglessness is hammered home with the subtlety of a sledgehammer wrapped in a glitter bomb. By the time the umpteenth universe introduces yet another wacky gimmick (hot dog fingers, really?), the message has long since drowned in the noise.

Technically, the film is undeniably impressive. The editing is frenzied but precise, the costumes and effects burst with DIY charm, and the fight choreography is inventive. Yet for all its craft, the experience is akin to watching someone scream “LOOK HOW WEIRD AND DEEP THIS IS!” for two hours straight. The quieter moments, when they come, are the film’s best but they’re too often trampled by another detour into randomness.

Everything Everywhere All at Once wants to be a profound meditation on existence, a family drama, and a goofball comedy all at once. It succeeds in flashes, but mostly, it’s just a lot. For some, that’s enough. For others, it’s a reminder that sometimes, less really is more.