The Breakup: A heavy bass line vibrated through the local record store. Knives bounced up and down the isles, cutting off Scott repeatedly. Theyd only been dating for a bit, but she was sure it was true love. These trips to the record store had been labeled as dates in her ledger. Attending her first concert together had been a sure sign of long-term commitment. It was young love at its finest. Scott was noticeably uneasy. His personality oscillated between quirky and comatose most of the time, so not noticing would be forgivable. He knew their breakup was imminent, though hed been too timid to bring it up before. When Knives asked him to meet her parents, Scott knew his window had arrived. Listen, I was thinking we should break up or whatever. The record store background faded away, and she replied with an oh that echoed into an abyss that formed around her. Scott left her in that complete darkness, feeling guilty about it only momentarily before turning his attention to the next girl. What Makes It So Brilliantly Devastating: Director Edgar Wright knows how to put his visual stamp on a film. This film, full of vibrant images and alluring graphics, often resembles a cartoon. Knives and Scotts breakup is noticeably understated compared to the rest of the film. It is perhaps best marked by its economy of movement and dialogue. While other scenes seem to be never-ending, this one took only seconds. Both reactions perfectly capture the painful awkwardness of teenage rejection. Scott carries around his relationship with Knives as if he were Atlas holding up the Earth. Likewise, Knives has made her entire life about a boy that she sometimes holds hands with. It is completely overdramatic, and yet still manages to find a level of truthfulness that is readily accessible. Even when the background fades out and Knives is shown in a literal pit of despair, the heart of the scene feels incredibly realistic.