Demolition

I don’t usually rewatch films this fast, but Demolition got me. Three times in three days first at night in one sitting, then with my sister, then again today at work in pieces. And somehow, every time felt different. The first watch hit me like a train. The chaos, the strange humor, the little quiet moments between the noise it was all so alive. The second watch was about the details: the lines I missed, the way a scene is framed, the looks characters give each other when no one’s talking. The third time, with headphones, La Bohème in the final scene gave me full-body goosebumps. I couldn’t cry at work, but I felt the tears waiting. Jean-Marc Vallée doesn’t treat grief like something poetic or predictable. He shows it the way it really is breaking things apart, saying the wrong things, finding joy in places that make no sense. And when Davis fixes that little coin-operated horse at the end, with La Bohème playing only its instrumental, no words… it’s not about a big redemption arc. It’s about fixing one small thing in a life you can’t fully repair. This movie touched something in me that maybe nothing else will. And now, every time I hear La Bohème, I’m right back in that last scene, standing next to Davis, watching the horse move.