i *know* that art gets worse than DEMOLITION, but as i sat on my flight today and tried to make sense of what i just watched, i couldn't imagine how.

fuck this movie straight to hell.

beyond being terrible in every conceivable way, it's also bad in one pivotal respect of which i hadn't previously been able to conceive! everybody grieves in their own way (or *not really grieves,* as the case may be, here), but NOBODY, ever, in all of recorded time, has ever grieved (or *not really grieved,* as the case may be, here) like Jake G's character does in this movie. none of these people are human, they're inadvertent parodies of bad Fox Searchlight-era film types, and…

I'm the kind of guy who buries everything deep down. If someone close to me died, you wouldn't know it unless I told you. If I got fired or failed a class, my general demeanor wouldn't change enough to be noticeable. I internalize everything, burying it deep down inside and doing my best to ignore until eventually, it just goes away or the world solves the problem for me. It's a quietly destructive system of dealing with hardships, but from my experience I think I would prefer it to the alternate, more vocal and public approach. People often deem this method unhealthy, something I vehemently disagree with. I'm a put together individual, relatively mature and pretty steadfast in my fundamental…

Saw it again and it hit me even harder.

Punch-Drunk Love directed by Terrence Malick.

So much of this film plays out like a Terrence Malick film.
Old Malick. Like a "Days of Heaven" prime Malick. More narrative-driven Malick. Yet also very new-Malick as well. 
The use of voiceover over the choppy, sporadic imagery. Like a broken fairy tale or dream. A bunch of pieces falling downwards, hoping they can stay intact once they hit rock bottom.

Its story is weak, you say?

Isn't life like that? Don't you have days where you feel out of place? Like you were randomly placed here? Like nothing seems to be falling in the right place, or order? That's what "Demolition" conveys so…

Zuerst emotional irritierend. Dann irgendwie lähmend. Und am Ende musste ich sehr viele Tränen wegwischen. Inszenatorisch (für mich) zum Teil faszinierend oder hervorragend konstruiert und gestaltet. Inhaltlich gehen einige erzählerische Konstrukte (für mich) nicht so ganz auf. Hier und da fühlen sich Szenen oder Sätze einfach zu wenig nach echtem Leben und zu sehr nach notwendigem, erzählerischem Bauteil an, damit Davis und Film ihr Dekonstruktionsprinzip ausspielen können. Im Zuge dessen werden gewisse Themen, Bilder oder eben Metaphern dann auch etwas zu oft wiederholt, so dass sich in der Mitte des Films bei mir ein gewisses Desinteresse eingestellt hat. Aber wie der Film sein letztes Drittel entwickelt, vor allem geprägt durch Watts, Cooper und dann auch Gyllenhaal, das hat mich schon…