There’s certainly a cruel irony to watching a film about Blindness, one that director Fernando Meirelles (The Constant Gardner) does not treat lightly. Despite its post-apocalyptic setting, Blindness is by no means a popcorn thriller in the same vein as 2007′s I am Legend, aiming to be more confrontational than entertaining.
When a group of individuals are placed in confinement after being infected with a viral case of “white blindness”, they ultimately lose sight of their morality more than anything else. Yet the bleakness Mierelles endlessly conveys isn’t as intriguing or poignant as one would have hoped. The overabundance of symbolism continues to suggest a deeper meaning, but because Mierelles gets too caught up worrying about the film’s aesthetics, such a message never truly comes into focus.

Blindness wastes no time in living up to its title; within the opening scene, a man stuck in peak hour traffic inexplicably goes blind. His eye Doctor (Mark Ruffalo) is at a loss to explain the bizarre case, made more perplexing by the fact that the man claims to see a wash of white and not black like regular blindness. Before long, everyone the man came into contact with also goes blind, eventually reaching epidemic status as cases of blindness spreads across the nation. In an attempt to control the situation, the Government quarantines the “infected” within a dilapidated asylum until they can find a cure.

Seemingly immune to the virus is the Doctor’s wife, portrayed with great assurance by Julianne Moore, who pretends to be blind in order to be quarantined with her husband. The infected are left to fend for themselves, and as tensions run high, the men clash for authority over the distribution of food and eventually for the distribution of women. The Doctor’s wife becomes the Sheppard to the people of her ward, yet her vision is a mixed blessing given that she is able to see the physical and social decay that surrounds her.

The infected are not the only ones left in the dark; once they are placed in isolation, Meirelles also makes a point of confining the audience with them. Little is revealed about the situation outside the walls of the institution, cleverly leaving the state of the world in question, forcing us to concentrate on the people inside. Yet these individuals  forever remain strangers; characterised by professions alone, it’s hard to imagine these people existed before the cameras started rolling. Meirelles is making the point that a person is not defined by their name or physical appearance and that it’s what’s inside that counts.

However,  Meirelles might want to consider practising what he preaches.

Whilst he and cinematographer Cesar Charlone makes sure Blindness is a visually rich experience, the same can’t be said about the film’s underdeveloped characters or  stagnating  narrative. Charlone forces the audience to empathise with the infected by constantly meddling with the focus and exposure to disorientate. That said, the great voyeuristic potential of the film is mostly overlooked. Instead, Blindness opts to confront its audience with brazen acts of immorality, which works only to dehumanise the characters by stereotyping them.

Even with the screenplay working against them, Julianne Moore and Mark Ruffalo still manage to shine. Moore’s performance in particular adds a complexity to her character that goes beyond what the screenplay seems to suggest. Yet even she can’t seem to bring a greater sense of purpose to film, one that would make each of the 120 minutes feel more worthwhile.

Verdict:

Blindness takes the post-apocalyptic themes of Children of Men and blends it with the jaded morality of Lord of the Flies to questionable success. Whilst an intriguing, well performed and visually unique film, the shortcomings of the screenplay inhibit us from connecting with the all-important characters, preventing any lasting message from being made.

 

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