23
EZ
THE
WASHINGTON
POST
.
FRIDAY,
APRIL
1, 2022
mism for what you might step in
on a cattle ranch).
Some may find that last lesson
emblematic of the film itself. Oth-
ers will be dazzled by Yeoh’s act-
ing (it’s amazing) or the deadpan
comedic performance of Jamie
Lee Curtis as a humorless IRS
auditor named Deirdre Beaubeir-
dra. (Apparently, Banana-Fana-
Feaufeirdra wouldn’t fit on her
nameplate.) Deirdre, who ap-
pears in multiple forms, is, in one
of the multiverses — one in which
everyone has hot dogs for fingers
— Evelyn’s lover. In another, she’s
her nemesis.
It’s hard to know what to make
of “Everything Everywhere All at
Once.” It’s a tour de force — but of
what? It’s exhausting. It’s funny.
It’s confusing. It’s way too long
and feels like it has multiple
endings. One scene features a
silent conversation in subtitles,
between two boulders with goo-
gly eyes glued on them. Googly
eyes are a central leitmotif of the
film, for unknown reasons.
Forget “Doctor Strange in the
Multiverse of Madness.” This
movie gives new meaning to the
words “strange” and “madness.”
It’s the cinematic equivalent of an
everything bagel: a substrate of
bupkis, dressed up with whatever
you can throw on it.
ride of sci-fi gobbledygook. On
another, it’s an intergenerational
mother-daughter family drama
masquerading as a philosophical
dissertation on the nature of exis-
tence — with martial arts action.
All of this is delivered with a
pell-mell brio and a lo-fi special
effects aesthetic reminiscent of
Michel Gondry, funneled through
a fire hose that blasts everything
at you so fast that you might not
notice how silly and sophomoric
it all is.
The mechanism for verse-
jumping? It involves identifying
the most statistically unlikely de-
cision you can make at any given
moment, then doing it: putting
your shoes on the wrong feet, for
instance; eating an entire stick of
lip balm; deliberately giving your-
self paper cuts.
And the ultimate message of
the film — or, rather, messages, as
there seem to be several, deliv-
ered like desserts on a sampler
platter, over the course of the
film’s seemingly interminable
third act — are, in no particular
order: Nothing matters; be kind;
we’re all small and stupid; love
each other; and it’s all just a
pointless, swirling bucket of balo-
ney (“baloney” being a euphe-
EVERYTHING FROM 20
Movies
tial involvement with a police tip
line — and shielding his younger
brother. To snitch or not to snitch,
in other words, is the question.
And to what end? Are Marcus’s
instincts punitive, protective or
something else? As Drew notes,
sarcastically, Marcus seems to
have grown a conscience since
finding sobriety.
No, Marcus tells him: It’s pris-
on that gave him a conscience;
being sober means he has to live
with that conscience.
The screenplay is thoughtful
and nuanced, and Epps’s per-
formance anchors the narrative
with a solid, unfussy portrayal of
ethical indecision, even if the
third act detours into more melo-
dramatic territory. One of the
film’s villains, played by Theo
Rossi of “Luke Cage,” brings the
same cartoonish energy he
brought to that show, but it’s not
quite enough to derail “Devil.”
There’s an open-ended ambi-
guity to the film’s resolution that
doesn’t fully satisfy, but maybe
that’s life: There are no happy
endings or pat lessons some-
times, this story seems to say. And
some people have to learn that the
hard way.
R. At area theaters. Contains
coarse language throughout, some
violence and sexual references.
116 minutes.
In the comics-inspired action film “Morbius,” Jared Leto
plays Michael Morbius, a vigilante antihero based on the Marvel
character with an insatiable bloodlust. PG-13. At area theaters.
Contains intense sequences of violence, some frightening images
and brief strong language. 108 minutes.
Also Opening
JAY MAIDMENT/SONY PICTURES
The Devil You Know
Fragile conscience, family bonds collide in modern morality tale
BY MICHAEL O'SULLIVAN
Four adult bothers are at the
center of “The Devil You Know,”
an efficient and well-acted family
drama with the overlay of a mod-
ern morality tale: Marcus (Omar
Epps), Anthony (Curtiss Cook),
Drew (William Catlett) and Terry
Cowans (Vaughn W. Hebron). But
the story, written and directed by
Charles Murray — an executive
producer and writer of Netflix’s
“Luke Cage,” the gritty urban su-
perhero series — focuses on the
fraught dynamic between two of
them: Marcus, a recovering alco-
holic and felon who is getting
back on his feet with a new job,
and Drew, who has just lost his
job and appears to be implicated
in the brutal home invasion, rob-
bery, double murder and beating
that open the film. (Michael Ealy
plays the dogged detective inves-
tigating the case, but this is no
police procedural.)
It’s as if Marcus and Drew have
traded places, as Drew observes.
And Marcus is torn between turn-
ing police informant — sharing
what he knows of Drew’s poten-
LIONSGATE
Omar Epps plays Marcus, a
recovering a lcoholic who is
getting back on his feet, in “The
Devil You Know.” Marcus must
decide whether to inform on or
shield his brother, who seems to
be implicated in a brutal crime.
R. At area theaters. Contains violence, sexual humor and coarse language.
140 minutes.
their dreams. (I suspect a much
longer version of this film — in
which we got to know Youri’s neigh-
bors better — wouldn’t have been
amiss.) The filmmakers were in-
spired by the forbidding Brutalist
architecture, whose long corridors
and cramped apartments Youri
navigates like an explorer trying to
find his way out of a maze.
While the directors give “Ga-
garine” a perfectly realized sense
of place, its ensemble cast gives it
the feeling of real life. In his first
film role, Bathily (whose father
grew up in the eponymous hous-
ing complex) was an unlikely
choice; the part of Youri would
seem to require a nerdy, 98-pound
weakling, staring passively at the
stars. But Bathily is made of stron-
ger stuff. Athletic yet sensitive, he
effectively conveys both youthful
alienation and a determined, DIY
competence.
On one level, “Gagarine” is a
story about dreams of a better life.
At the same time, its spirited hero
poignantly demonstrates a seem-
ingly trite but time-tested truism:
Be it ever so humble, there’s no
place like home.
GAGARINE FROM 22
Unrated. At Landmark’s E Street
Cinema and the Cinema Arts
Theatre. Contains strong language.
In French with subtitles.
97 minutes.