Demolition

Tell me why this is the best movie I’ve ever seen in my entire life. For the first time, I watched a movie and felt like someone out there has the same weirdness as me, in the exact same way. And I know I’m being a narcissist every time I look for myself in art, but isn’t that what we all love to do? Look for similarity and resemblance everywhere we go, and in every experience we have? This is how each of us develops taste—by collecting pieces of ourselves from things that don’t physically belong to us. I love how the movie approached grief from a different angle. Some people, when they grieve, pretend nothing happened and go about their days, only to crash at night. Most people are expressive and angry about it. Others deal with it for a few days, then move on. But a few people pretend they are fine, start acting a little strange, pay attention to small things they never noticed before, and continue their work as if their world didn’t just fall apart. Then, eventually, they give in—they cry, they scream, they break things—until they are truly okay. And I sort of fall into that last category. For the past year, I thought I was a psychopath for that, but in the end, it’s just another form of being human. We don’t have to grieve the same way to prove that we feel it. In the movie, I saw Davis in me. I saw myself in Davis—and that was the best part of it. I even predicted sentences before he said them, because I felt so deeply inside the mind of the writer of this genius movie. I strangely understood every word and every scene. I just love it. I also wonder if my future husband would build a library with my name after I die. That would be great.