When Fernando Meirelles’ latest film, Blindness, earned the much-envied opening slot at the prestigious Cannes Film Festival, the public opinion drenched the pseudo-apocalyptic drama in the expected hype. But once it actually hit the screen, hopeful anticipation quickly became regretful disappointment as the savvy director’s effort fell flat among the festival panel and received one of the lowest scores.
But oh, the wonders of editing.
Nearly five months after the film debuted at Cannes, Meirelles (City of God and The Constant Gardener) brings a significantly re-edited version of Blindness to theaters. And the Brazilian’s adjustments appear to have worked – his new cut of Blindness succeeds as a haunting deconstruction of society’s darkest tendencies, even if it is an overly ambitious endeavor.
The refined images are aesthetically fascinating. Meirelles plays with the visuals throughout, often straining the eyes of his audience by presenting scenes either in a bright white haze or in dim shadows. Several early scenes are shot using mirrors or windows, subtly foreshadowing the reflections on social order much of the film analyzes.
Based on a novel of the same title by author José Saramago (and adapted by Don McKellar (Childstar), who also plays a small role in the film), Blindness revolves around an epidemic known as “white blindness” that inexplicably starts striking people sightless. Frightened and confused, civilization’s natural reaction is to hastily lock away these victims into quarantine.
Among the first to go blind are a Japanese businessman (Yusuke Iseya, Closed Note), a surly prostitute (Alice Braga, Redbelt), a mysterious man with an eye patch (Danny Glover, Be Kind Rewind) and a doctor attempting to diagnose the condition (Mark Ruffalo, Reservation Road). The actual identities of these characters are left shrouded in anonymity, as their names and back stories are irrelevant in a new age where their former identities hold no societal sway.
Amid the turmoil, it is the doctor who secretly has an advantage: His wife (Julianne Moore, revisiting the postmodern dystopia she explored in Children of Men) joins him at the quarantine, even though she can still see and is just pretending to be blind. Why she is unaffected, however, is never explained – Meirelles asks you to simply suspend your disbelief in that regard. In the end, though, it comes across as a frustrating narrative oversight.
While more and more people are admitted to the quarantine, it becomes evident the outbreak is not slowing down. The residents of the ravaged quarantine are essentially on their own, paving the way for the self-declared “King of Ward 3” (an excellent Gael García Bernal, The Past) to seize the food supply. His price for a meal? First, it is the valuables of the other wards and, later, their women.
Blindness is not an easy film to watch – people are broken down and reduced to their most primal instincts, making for messy scenarios. Morals are thrown out the window, and discriminatory undertones take over.
But Meirelles does balance out the storyline by leaving us with a glimmer of hope, focusing on the unification of souls and dismissal of vanity that comes about thanks to the crisis. The harshest, most blinding lights soften and guide in a world of absolute darkness.
tfloyd1@umd.edu
RATING: 3 1/2 out of 5 stars
