Avoiding the bagel in a Menard's parking lot

More thoughts on Everything Everywhere All At Once

Warning: spoilers ahead

Content warning: suicide, suicidal ideation

Flynn and I were sitting in my car in the Menard’s parking lot at 11PM, watching employees leave for the day. It was either there or the hospital, and the hospital was not a place they were willing to go, so the superstore parking lot served as a makeshift triage space. Just somewhere that wasn’t home, that wasn’t the hospital, that wasn’t the life they didn’t want to keep living.

Earlier that night, they had put on a hoodie and walked out of the house, into the rain. It wasn’t the first time they had left without explaining where they were going. Sometimes I would try to stop them, sometimes not. This was a night I didn’t stop them. I was tired and I just didn’t have the  energy to get into an argument, so I let them go. Maybe I thought the rain would keep them close to the house. Maybe I just wanted to keep watching the TV or scrolling on my phone. 

But the rain didn’t keep them close. When they called me, they were a couple miles from home, having walked down a dark road with blind turns in the rain. They were crying. I was crying. 

So we sat in the Menard’s parking lot, both of us trying to figure out how to just keep going. 

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I have been to see “Everything Everywhere All At Once” three times so far. Flynn has come with me twice. We’re both a little bit obsessed. I think we’re trying to figure out how to escape the bagel.

Throughout the bulk of the movie, Jobu Tupaki is referred to as a villain. The people from the Alpha-verse are convinced that she is building something designed to destroy the universe. Her consciousness is split across all of the universes, so she sees, knows, and experiences everything, making her all powerful. But that seeing, knowing, and experiencing also makes her lose herself, because the more you know, the more you realize that there will always be more to know that will just make you feel like an even smaller piece of shit. 

So Jobu put everything - hopes, dreams, experiences, expectations, knowledge - on a bagel. Something so massive that it collapses in on itself and maybe, just maybe, it can put her out of her misery. It might take everything else with it, but at least she can just stop. The bagel isn’t a weapon, it’s an escape. An escape from the too-muchness.

In trying to save her daughter, Evelyn chooses to become like her. She breaks the clay pot of her consciousness to also exist everywhere and experience everything, and for a time, that breaking leads her to the same nihilistic view that Jobu Tupaki has. When you experience everything, nothing matters. For both of them, being sucked into the bagel seems like a good idea.

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That night in the Menard’s parking lot was a low point. After that, they adjusted some of their meds, which helped. They started some medical transitioning that has been hard, but good. Some things are better. But as we know, there is always something waiting to make you feel like a smaller piece of shit. They are facing down some scary medical concerns right now and we’re waiting to see what that will look like. They still have a lot of trauma from a terrible high school experience as a trans kid in Appalachia to work through. 

The call of the bagel never really goes away. Once the bagel exists, you can’t unmake it.

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In one of the most powerful moments in the movie, Evelyn chooses to let Jobu Tupaki fall into the bagel. She can’t fight her anymore. She can’t love her enough. She can’t fix it. All she can do is let her daughter go. 

And then Evelyn follows her.

She admits how she has messed up. And how Joy has messed up. And how yes, it’s all terrible, and yes, they are insignificant and yes, nothing matters. Because Joy is right. All we ever get are specks of goodness. The question is, are the specks enough? Can we squeeze enough goodness out of those brief moments to avoid the lure of the bagel another day?

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I identify with Evelyn. I want to save my kid and all of the kids like them from the bagel. Sometimes I want to do that by fighting. Sometimes I want to do that by holding on, maybe too tightly. Sometimes I just want to sink into the nothingness myself. 

But the specks of goodness are beautiful. They ground me when the Everything leaves me feeling unmoored. They give me hope when the Too Much leaves me feeling nothing but despair.

The specks of goodness help keep the bagel at bay.