Demolition

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Jean-Marc Vallee/Starring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Naomi Watts, Chris Cooper, Judah Lewis and Heather Lind

Jake Gyllenhaal has become adept at playing dark, oddball characters who contend with bizarre situations or are thrust into them involuntarily. His character in director Jean-Marc Vallee's new film; Demolition is no less fascinating or strange as he plays a man who slowly becomes unhinged after he loses his wife in a violent car collision. Vallee's film keeps us emotionally involved in the protagonist's quest to establish an emotional connection to a deceased wife to whom he denied love and attention and if his arc seems a little too pat, it is nevertheless unpredictable and often full of jarring surprises.

Gyllenhaal plays Davis, who we see riding with his wife Julia (Heather Lind) down a New York street. She chides him for not listening to her and his general inattentiveness; drawing on his inability to deal with their leaky refrigerator as an example. As if to confirm his wife's assessment, he barely listens to his wife's querulous patter. A second later, another car strikes their car violently on his wife's side. Moments later, we see a series of images in Davis' head of his wife flash before our eyes, which serve as a visual segue to a shot of Julia's father Phil (the superb Chris Cooper) walking toward him in a hospital; nearly collapsing from the knowledge that his daughter has just passed. What is particularly unusual is Davis' reaction, which is decidedly impassive. Even more bewildering is what he does shortly thereafter. After trying to buy peanut M&Ms' from a vending machine, the candy becomes stuck; prompting Davis to complain to a hospital staff member. The worker deflects Davis' complaint by informing him that a vending machine company is responsible for malfunctions. Davis approaches the machine to snap a iPhone shot of the vending machine's address. The scene is astonishing for several reasons. Almost incomprehensible is his glaring indifference to the news of his wife's death but even more so is his craving for candy and his displeasure at being cheated. Is Davis numb; too shocked to grasp his loss? Or was his wife right about his aloofness?

The story takes a stranger turn when Davis writes a letter of complaint to the vending machine company at the funeral reception; detailing not only the candy incident at the hospital but the loss of his wife. The letter we hear Davis read in voice-over gives us background information on his life and his wife, including his employment at his father-in-law's investment firm. While at the reception, we also see Davis practicing a grieved expression in the mirror.

Davis surprises his father-in-law and his colleagues when he shows up for work shortly after the funeral. Not giving an explanation for his presence, Davis proceeds with business.

Something Phil says to Davis inspires more peculiar behavior when he tells his son-in-law that sometimes it is necessary to dismantle and take something apart to understand its insides. In scenes that follow, we see Davis dismantle his refrigerator as he tries to ascertain the cause of the leak and a creaky bathroom stall door at his office; separating the discrete parts neatly on the floor. And most confounding of all; he strips his office computer; leaving the wreck in myriad parts on the office floor. Phil's dismay prompts Davis' compulsory leave of absence.

Davis' letters to the vending machine company become frequent, which elicit a response from a customer service representative named Karen, who begins following him surreptitiously. When Karen agrees to meet Davis at a diner, she watches him from the parking lot and calls him on his cellphone to tell him she can't join him. But in the days following, she continues to follow him and read his letters. Davis tries to find her at work then at her house. To his surprise, he encounters her boss at the door, who is more than just a little angry and puzzled to see a customer on his doorstep at 11pm. Karen (Naomi Watts) is naturally flabbergasted at the sight of Davis but accepts his latest letter before discouraging him to return.

But Karen's boyfriend leaves on a trip, allowing Davis to visit her at home. One might expect the friendship to quickly morph into something sexual but instead we the makings of a quirky friendship. Soon Davis becomes acquainted with Karen's son Chris (Judah Lewis, in a performance that is sure to make Hollywood notice), who offers him a gruff greeting sprinkled with four-letter words. Davis learns Karen's relationship with her teenage son is troubled by a lack of connection in a way that echoes Davis' problems with his wife.

As Davis' friendship with Karen burgeons, he becomes friendly with Chris; discovering a troubled teen in need of an ear and and fatherly companionship. Davis learns Chris has been suspended from school for giving a too-honest and too-graphic account of an incident in the Afghan War. With time on his hands, Chris joins Davis in his efforts to demolish his home.

It is fairly clear at this point in the film that Davis' obsession with dismantling objects and demolishing his own home is a metaphor for his attempt to break down his life and as his father-in-law said; "to understand what is in the inside." It also serves as a symbolic means to understanding his failed relationship with his wife, who haunts his waking life as a specter.

The more time Davis spends with Karen and Chris, the more he becomes estranged from his job and his in-laws, particularly Phil, who is angered by his son-in-law apparent apathy to a scholarship fund he has formed in honor of his daughter's memory.

Strangeness abounds in Davis' behavior as he and Chris test a bullet-proof vest in the woods with Karen's boyfriend's gun. Chris shoots Davis in the side and just as he recovers from the bullet's ferocious impact, Chris shoots him again. The scene, though harrowing in its own way, shows the growing trust between Davis and Chris. When Chris becomes more comfortable with Davis, he confides in him one day about his sexual confusion. The issue is made more poignant when Davis catches Chris dressing up in the bathroom.

In spite of Davis' behavior, which continues on its destructive course (he buys a bulldozer on e-bay to facilitate his home's collapse, only to be thwarted by the defective vehicle), he comes closer to dealing with his wife's death on emotional terms. But shocking developments are never in short supply in Vallee's film. While demolishing dresser drawers in his home, he discovers his wife's ultra-sound photo. Davis' judgement being unsound, he chooses to confront his in-laws about it during the scholarship-fund awards ceremony. As he heads to the door, his mother-in-law reveals another shocker about the baby.

As the story winds down, a few threads are tied-up though not neatly. Davis' issues with his wife are resolved in a semi-satisfying manner and the film's final scene reveals a rapprochement that is significant for its happy resolution.

So much is happening in Vallee's film, it is amazing how the various characters and scenes manage to cohere. The tone shifts at times, from dark drama to dark comedy to blithely surreal to upbeat conclusion. I'm still not sure if the film works as a whole but so much of it is too wonderfully eccentric to dismiss. One of my favorite shots in the film is of Davis walking toward the camera on a crowded city sidewalk. As he moves forward, one notices that the crowd is effectively moving backward--a nice, subtle, visual touch.

As much as I enjoyed the film, there is something about the end that seems incongruent to everything that came before. Or maybe I've become suspicious of films that insist on buoyant endings. One could pose a counterargument that the ending is well-earned. And does the demolition metaphor work? Is it too heavy-handed?

Vallee's soundtrack is quite delightful. I like music that is directly incorporated into the story. Heart's Crazy on You is not only part of the soundtrack but the song itself becomes part of a question Davis poses to a gathering of his office colleagues during a meeting.

I like Vallee's film. I found its flaws to be minor or negligible. I don't think it's the great film it had the potential to be but it worked well enough. Its limited release will work against it but it will find its way to those who will appreciate its oddities.

Wild

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Jean-Marc Vallee/Starring: Reese Witherspoon, Laura Dern, Gaby Hoffman and Thomas Sadoski

Who in their right mind would embark on a trail walk, which spans a stretch from southern California to Oregon; alone, laden with an overstuffed backpack and with sporadic access to food and water? And why would said person--a woman--attempt it alone? Cheryl Strayed, the author of the best-selling memoir; Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail, did just that and now her story has been adapted for the big screen by director Jean-Marc Vallee, whose Dallas Buyer's Club earned its share of Oscar nominations and awards last year.

Watching Wild called to mind other films in what could loosely be called a genre: Into the Wild, which starred Emile Hirsch and 127 Hours , with James Franco. All three films are based on real-life experiences and all involve individuals seeking adventure or in Strayed's case, something spiritually therapeutic. But what distinguishes Wild from its predecessors is its female protagonist. Though all three films have their share of peril, a woman alone in a cross-continent hike intensifies the inherent elements of danger and risk, which makes for a compelling story and terrific cinema.

Reese Witherspoon seems like an unlikely choice to play Strayed; her small, slight frame makes her undertaking seem impossibly Sisyphean and improbable.

As we follow Strayed forward on her journey, we also are pulled to her past as we learn why someone with no hiking experience would attempt something so nutty.
Watching Strayed's logistical preparations inside a motel room reflect an almost comic ineptitude. Food supplies and unwieldy gear attached to her backpack make it necessary for her to bend and leg-lift the weight onto her back and watching her struggle, one wonders how she will manage a 1000+ mile hike.

Watching two cars with men at a gas station, we see Strayed decide which is the less-dicey means of transportation to Pacific Crest Trail (A.K.A PCT); a father and son in a mini-van or two sketchy guys who are the very incarnation of a bad idea. The decision is significant, for most people Strayed encounters on the trail are men, who will challenge her ability to distinguish between those who might mean her harm and those who are more benign.

Seeing Strayed struggle early in the deserty, Southern Californian part of the trail, hiking a thousand miles seems like a far-fetched notion. Though she toughs it out, she tries to overcome gear limitations, one being a portable stove unit that won't work, which condemns her daily meals to coldness.

In the first of many encounters, Strayed meets a farmer in the middle of nowhere and asks for a ride. The farmer seems reluctant at first, then insists she wait until his work is finished, which means sitting idle in his truck. On the drive, we feel Strayed's apprehension as the conversation initially sounds threatening when he insists she stay at his house but she finds to her relief the farmer is actually married and becomes helpful to her before he drops her off on the trail again the next day.

As Strayed makes her way on the trail, we begin to see her memories of her life, in the form of flashbacks, that prompted her herculean undertaking. We see her childhood; where her mother Bobbi (Laura Dern) raises Cheryl and her brother alone after the family flees their abusive father. Bobbi, whose irrepressibly buoyant spirit shapes her optimistic worldview, is tirelessly loving to her children.

Along the way, Strayed stops at small trail stations that hold registries where hikers can record their progress or leave comments. We see her leave quotes from authors and poets on the page (which also appear before us on the screen) but she adds her name to the writers', which tells us their sentiments captures her own perfectly.

Strayed begins to make progress on the trail, arriving at places where other hikers congregate. One even gives her helpful advice about her hiking shoes, which cause her excessive blistering and in one scene, a gruesome detachment of her toenails. He recommends she contact the hiking/camping outfitter REI where she bought her boots to request a better pair, which they can deliver anywhere for no charge. The stops along the way also allow her to receive care packages from friends and her ex-husband.

Further on the trail, we begin to see more of her flashbacks. We watch as her mother receives news about her terminal cancer, which devastates Strayed and her brother. In most of Strayed's memories, we see the powerful bond she shared with her mother, which makes the scene on the deathbed all the more powerful.
The agony of her mother's death leads her on a self-destructive course of heroin and infidelity that eventually wrecks her marriage. The scenes of a ragged and filthy Strayed on the street, scoring hits of heroin and having sex with strange men in hotel rooms and alley ways give us a sense of her recklessness and psychological decline. In another scene, she confides to her friend Aimee (Gaby Hoffman)that she is pregnant but is unsure of who the father might be.

It is common for recovering alcoholics and drug abusers to engage in extreme physical activity, which makes Strayed's hike a reasonable response. It seems only a cathartic 1100 mile hike through rough terrain and snow could purge the angry demons tormenting Strayed.

After watching a hiking boot slide down a snowy mountainside, the anger and emotions come to a boil, which Strayed expels with a rage-intensive scream before hurling the other offending boot after its twin, never to be seen again.

With the exception of one woman, Strayed encounters mostly men in her trek and though many are pleasant, one exception is particularly harrowing. She meets two hunters; one of whom can't let the idea of a possible rape pass. The scene is frightening but hardly unexpected. It seems one of the film's motifs involves the men in her life and on the trail and how they affect her. From her abusive father to the men she engages in adulterous sex with to the one that robs her on the street to the friendly and threatening men on the trail, to her cuckolded husband and her brother, the film is as much about how she copes with men as it is about a woman undertaking a journey alone.

What ultimately happens at the end of the hike is hardly news, given the book's popularity. While overlooking a bridge at her destination, she gleans some cleansing, hard-earned wisdom from her journey, and over the closing subtitles we learn the distance she covered (again, 1100 miles), which is very impressive, given her lack of training and proper preparation.

I was really moved by the film and Strayed's story. Rather than intersperse long and medium shots of Strayed on the trail to emphasize her alone-ness, Vallee instead keeps us close to her and her surroundings utilizing handheld cameras. I think this was a more effective way of telling the story, which allows the audience to be at her side; to hear her whispery comments and see the physical toll the long hike takes on her body. We know Strayed has been many places, in her head and in the world and it shows in her face and appearance.

I also found the use of song rather than a score to be highly effective and affective. Vallee uses Simon and Garfunkel's El Condor Pasa as a musical theme that could represent Strayed's thoughts well. But the song's lyricism also reflects her love for poetry, which serves as an intellectual and emotional companion on her journey.

Witherspoon is terrific. I must admit I was skeptical about her casting after seeing the previews but her performance is startling for its intensity and range. She handles the role quite nicely.

Whatever value judgement one assigns Strayed's actions, one thing remains incontrovertibly clear: she was brave and she showed a fierce determination. Whatever she came away with, she most certainly earned. The film could serve as a cautionary tale or as supreme inspiration. However one regards Strayed and her hike, Wild makes its indelible mark on a relatively new genre and proves (though it isn't the film's intent) that women can easily match men for mettle and mental fortitude. Its company is welcome in this season of cinematic excellence, where it distinguishes itself well.