Everything Everywhere All at Once

There may be, in some other corner of the multiverse, a Liel Leibovitz who could actually write a coherent and elegant review of Everything Everywhere All at Once. He’s probably a few pounds lighter, knows its wise to call it quits after three martinis, and possesses the sort of elan needed to succinctly capture a film that begins as an airless drama about the Wangs, a family of Chinese American immigrants living above a laundromat, and very quickly takes a turn into a metaphysical acid trip about the choices we don’t make and the alternate, parallel universes they generate.