Kokuriko-zaka kara (From Up on Poppy Hill)

The intense painful longing for an adored absent loved one, objectively expressed through ritualistic candour, every morning by the vibrant sea the message sent unseen unanswered, a family waiting observant on shore, yet still caught up in the world around them.

Umi's mother is off to study in the unfamiliar metropoli of North America, leaving her alone to manage their business, a task she accomplishes with inherent skill.

Meanwhile, Shun grows increasingly frustrated as it becomes apparent his clubhouse will be shut down, many of the other studious individuals in agreement, yet at a loss as to how to proceed.

As fate would have it, he's noticed Umi's signals and written a poem about them in his newsletter, which she notices one startling morning, before venturing forth to discover its author.

The two strike up a friendship although working relationship may be more apt, male and female soon gathered together to renovate the clubhouse for the first time in years.

But there may be even more to it after they learn they both have copies . . .

. . . of the same mysterious photo!

Taken of their fathers ages ago.

Toil and hard work and prudent planning industriously drives Kokuriko-zaka kara (From Up on Poppy Hill), which diligently enlivens through microcosm to innovatively excel and creatively encapsulate.

Japan having struggled in recent times through disastrous wars for which they can't be forgiven, the youth who grew up in the aftermath nevertheless, provided with the choice to make amends.

They have their traditions and customs which they resolutely honour through resilient sacrifice, taking care of their responsibilities with adamant gusto, while persevering through hearty resolve.

But a brilliant survivor of the ruthless war who recognizes that it's time to change the old ways, presents a newfound contemporary alternative which follows a reconciliatory postmodern path.

Imagine a world where people really were chill and there was no need for consistent higher-up apologies, where sustained evolving international endeavours led to food to eat and employment for billions.

Why are goodwill and camaraderie so counterintuitively maligned?

Exacting standards.

Commensurate will.

So many variables.  

Aces high.

Demolition

Devastating impacts, instantaneous oblivion, no recourse, no quarter, a husband cannot come to terms with the death of his wife and consequently launches a full-on assault on bourgeois stability, lost in the unknown, penetrating unpredictable sorrow supersaturated with amorous considerations, did he love her?, why isn't grief virulently punishing?, this logical predicament obscuring reason with mad unconsolable solitudes, which question logic itself, for in nebulous realms of superlative shock there is no standard playbook, especially if you don't seek professional guidance and refuse to discuss things with loved ones, hence, there is neither reason nor madness, just thought mixed with emotion, like consciousness reborn, an obfuscating mélange, but if you worry about how you should be feeling as opposed to concentrating on how you are feeling without feeling guilty about your lack of emotion should you be mired in an apathetic stasis, things may exasperate, although perhaps it's exasperation itself that leads to catharsis, as it does in Jean-Marc Vallée's Demolition, the best film I've seen thus far in post-Oscar 2016 (just think, sit back, and let the thoughts flow).

It's very patient, even if Davis (Jake Gyllenhaal) believes he can immediately transmutate his feelings early on.

Vallée delicately introduces new characters with expert timing and awareness to diversify Demolition at points where you think it might start to drag, thereby strengthening everything that has previously taken place while making what's to come seem intrinsically tantalizing.

The comedy bluntly yet potently contrasts Davis's quaintly absurd mischievous romance with Karen (Naomi Watts), and increasingly hostile relations with understanding yet fed-up step-father and boss Phil (Chris Cooper), creating a brash sympathetic omnibus charter, as he enthusiastically takes to sledgehammering whatever he can, while providing guidance to a struggling youth (Judah Lewis as Chris) who's direct, confident and brash.

The two generate a constructive bond through shenanigans and level-headed discussion.

Elsewhere Vallée tenderly introduces Davis's happy memories of his wife Julia (Heather Lind), shyly working sudden rejuvenative placating solace into the film as it approaches its tear-jerking horizon.

Grieving.

A seemingly insane examination of excruciating loss which benefits from an exploration of unfathomable ir/rationalities, Demolition provocatively refrains to emotionally heal, like sustained entropy, intermingling demographic psychologies memorandum, as it brings two families closer and closer together.

I love how Jake Gyllenhaal's career is progressing. It's sort of like John Cusack's but darker.

Naomi Watts puts in another outstanding performance, one of the best actresses in Hollywood no question.

Judah Lewis may make a career of it.

Impressive.

And Chris Cooper rocks another supporting role, demonstrating why he's been popping up in so many films for so many years.

Vallée must really work well with actors (like David O. Russell).

He's pumping them out as quickly as Woody Allen too.

Written by Bryan Sipe.

Editing by Jay M. Glen.