AFI Fest Review: Blind

Memory is a slippery thing.  Details are easily lost in the broader conceptions of what was, and the way we romanticize people and places makes our recollections anything but fact.  More than that, they are a reflection of who we were, or more pointedly, who we are as we look back and sigh.

Ingrid (Ellen Dorrit Petersen) must be especially wary of her memories.  She has recently become blind, and the doctors have warned her that, as her optic nerves continue to deteriorate to nothing, so will her ability to visualize.  In her dreams, she can still see, but upon awakening each day, Ingrid must rage against the dying of the light, trying to hold onto any detail she can, knowing that it is at least somewhat in vain.  There is no way to test the acccuracy of her mind, but it's the attempt that matters, the mental exercise involved that will keep her sharp, her thoughts vivid.

First-time director Eskil Vogt (whose previous screenwriting credits include Reprise and Oslo, August 31st) has taken on a hefty challenge for his debut: giving visual representation to the way a blind woman perceives the world.  Blind is a rousing success, ably capturing the unexpected humor and everyday trauma of being blind.  As the son of a recently visually impaired woman, I know these highs and lows well; Blind does, too.

Vogt doesn't condemn Ingrid to a boring life.  She removes herself from the world, sitting in a chair by the window, drinking tea, and letting her imagination run wild.  She works away at a novel, the details slipping and changing as it's difficult for her to go back and double-check the minutiae of her created world.  She also imagines her husband Morten's (Henrik Rafaelsen) secret life, whether he's secretly watching her from a seat across the room or looking for sex online.  Ingrid's two interior worlds cross, Morten falling in love with Ingrid's doppleganger Elin (Vera Vitali), a single mother whose eyesight also vanishes suddenly.  The blurred lines recall Adaptation and Stranger Than Fiction, opening the door for some fantastic visuals and sight gags.

The marital strain is perhaps Blind's most stunning achievement.  The disconnect between Ingrid and Morten is almost a necessity of the situation; because Ingrid cannot peek over at Morten's laptop screen, how is she supposed to believe that he's sending invitations rather than trolling for casual sex.  Her anxiety is anything but paranoia; it's the pain of adjusting to a dark world, where everything must be learned anew.  A walk to the pharmacy becomes an epic journey that cannot be completed alone, at least not the first time.  These are the growing pains of having to reinvent oneself, wondering what good could possibly lie ahead.

For his first outing in the director's chair, Eskil Vogt has taken on weighty subject matter, and pulled it off with sly humor and a sharp eye.  If Blind is a sign of what to expect from his future films, I will forever want to share in his vision.