Blind Loves

I think I have seen too many films in too short a space of time, or maybe the blog is acting like some sort of psychic echo chamber that is amplifying their effect on me. Last night I dreamt films. What's more, they were films starring the celebrities who appear in the Who weekly ads that precede every MIFF screening. I've still got so many films to go, this can only get worse.

Last night's film, Slovakian director Juraj Lehotsky's Blind Loves, sat somewhere on the misty border of documentary and narrative. It's about love in the life of the blind. There is a blind pianist and his wife, a blind gypsy and his star-crossed love affair, a blind mother and her sighted baby and a blind teenage girl searching for love on the internet. They are real people and presumably real stories, although they are been filmed in a narrative style with several scenes appearing recreated, and in one sequence departing into complete fantasy, when the imaginative pianist daydreams about life under the sea. It would be interesting to know how many of the scenes were scripted.

By inserting the fantasy sequence early, Lehotsky clearly flags that not everything is strictly for real. It is clear the focus is not on accuracy of events but on true depiction of character. Blind Loves made me realise how rarely blind people are actually shown on film, or when they are how they are so often defined by their accoutrements, like dark glasses and a cane. Blind eyes, especially, are rarely shown in close-up, as they are frequently in this film. Despite its liberal use of staging, it would be hard to find a more honest depiction of blindness than this beautiful and unique film.