Demolition

I tend to start these reviews with my personal feelings on the subject matter that relates to the film I observed.  I don’t just do this because I think it’s a good way to start a review (thought I think it is), but because it lets me pour out my personal thoughts that makes me feel like I’m in therapy.  It’s a nice way to get to know yourself, and it’s a way to see how you perceive hings, whether those things may seem trivial in everyday life, or incredibly important for it’s pursuit of happiness.  It’s one of the reasons I love doing this, and the film in question today, Jean-Marc Vallee’s Demolition, is about something that I’d love to really dig into.

Mourning.

But instead of giving my insight on the matter and how the film presents it, all I can really get into is how it fails it’s goals.

The film stars Jack Gyllenhaal as Davis, a successful investment banker whose wife, Julia (Heather Lind), dies in an opening scene car crash. Once Davis gets the tragic news of her passing in the hospital, he reacts by trying to buy M&M’s from a vending machine and taking dispute with the device for getting stuck.  He does not cry or get angry; he feels nothing.  Not numbness, as people commonly feel when they learn of the loss of someone close to them, but nothing.  He knows that he’s not feeling how he should by most accounts, but he only states this in his complaint letters to the vending machine company that failed to provide him with his snack.  He doesn’t believe that he loved his wife.  And while he’s not happy that she’s gone, he knows his lack of mourning her death says that something has been very wrong with him for a long time.

It’s a great idea in the hands of a talented lead actor and gifted filmmaker, but it falls flat in a story that, in the end, wants him to find a hard-earned peace.  But the script gets lost in his journey to get there.  Multiple subplots each feel like their own separate films that struggle to show how the main character is dealing with his emotional state.

The first is Davis’ relationship with his father in-law and boss, Phil (a he’s been better Chris Cooper).  Phil is a full-on grieving father that wants to set up a legacy fund for his daughter, which Davis must sign-off on.  When he sees that Davis is mourning by showing up to work like nothing is wrong, he tells him the only way to move on is to tear his life down and re-build.  Davis takes this literally and begins a fascination with demolishing anything he can.  From bathroom stalls to his own refrigerator, he takes them apart and moves on to helping construction crews with demolishing a house.  The film sort of gets into the idea of rediscovery in the manner of demolition, but it never fully explores it.

Much like the second subplot in which Davis meets Karen (a she’s been better Naomi Watts), the girl from the vending machine company that reads all of his complaint letters.  She has her own troubles in life, such as being in a relationship with her boss that she doesn’t love and trying to take care of her troublemaker son.  But when she reads Davis’ letters she sees a kindred spirit that she’s drawn to.  Not before long, he’s staying at her house and going with her to pick up weed.  He talks about his wife to her for a little while and though she would appear to be a romantic interest for him, it isn’t explored.  I’m not saying that last bit is a bad thing; I’m saying it’s a bad thing that ultimately nothing is explored because this sub-plot is derailed by another one involving her son.

The son, Chris (Judah Lewis), at first seems like a normal rebellious teen, but he shows a more complex reason for his nature.  Lewis is wonderful in the role, and some of the scenes between him and Gyllenhaal feel more honest than the rest of the film, but it goes no where.  It’s supposed to relate to how Davis feels confused about his own life and help him find catharsis, but I didn’t buy it.

While Davis is jumping from each relationship, we get to see how his mind works as his wife will pop-up in flashes and reflections.  A ghost that haunts him.  I really liked the way Vallee visualizes these moments, whether in a steam-filled bathroom or on a sun-drenched beach, it gave the film a genuine aura of what it feels like to see someone that is no longer there. It’s to Gyllenhaal’s credit as an actor that we see his mind handle these visions with despair and confusion.  If he feels nothing for her, then why does she haunt him?  Is it because she was the person he woke up next to every morning?  Is that all she was to him?

All of these questions and subplots are lazily wrapped up in a way that wants to be surprising and palpable.  Instead, the film does things that are unnecessary so the plot can take a turn that jolts Davis out of his state of mind and gets the script to the ending.  It’s a shame too as Gyllenhaal is one of the best actors we have, and he is very good here, but the script fails what could’ve been something far more memorable.  Vallee(Dallas Buyers Club, Wild) has made a film that has the right look, and a humorous sensibility, but it has too many things wrong with it’s limbs, resulting in a corruption of the heart.

To sum up my feelings on Demolition I’d end this review with a personal thought about mourning…but I have a review to finish.

Grade: C+