Blind (2014)

What happens when complete darkness surrounds you? All you can do is visualize. You can use your memory of a place, perhaps grope in the dark based on your best judgment of it. In a way, when you cannot see, your mind becomes your eyes. And when one is visually impaired, the darkness is permanent; an infinite blank space beyond comprehension. The only way to give something any kind of tangible shape is to imagine. The mind becomes the ultimate gateway to reach and feel a world that cannot be seen. Only where there is imagination, there is also the limitlessness.

Norwegian writer-director Eskil Vogt demonstrates this through the mind of Ingrid (Ellen Dorrit Petersen), a woman recently gone blind due a hereditary condition. Despite her husband Morten's (Henrik Rafaelsen) adequate support and insistence that she must step out and try to resume normal life, Ingrid chooses to stay indoors. Whilst being confined to her apartment, mostly sitting by the window and writing away on her laptop, she resorts to endless musings in a thought process voice-over.

We are introduced to two other primary characters, who are presumably Ingrid's neighbours. Einar (Marius Kolbenstvedt) is a single loner and avid porn addict, and Elin (Vera Vitali) is a lonesome single mother with a child who comes to spend the weekends with her. Ingrid's narration gives us backgrounds of these characters, seemingly from her memory, and then the story arc gradually begins to develop as the lives of these characters intertwine. However, after an instance or two of wild imagination concerning her husband, a big question mark is put on the credibility of Ingrid, exposing her as an unreliable narrator, especially when the events unfolding on the screen begin to border on the absurd.

"Blind" works impressively as a rich, layered film that serves as both a character sketch of Ingrid, and also as a fascinating psychological drama that focuses on her repressed fantasies that take shape in the darkness. While most other films portray the blind as being victims in a predicament, with excessive dependence on others, Vogt chooses to show his blind protagonist using the handicap to her advantage. It is Ingrid who is in control here, because she is confined to her home. At home, she feels safe, more confident than anywhere else, and with confidence, comes power. Vogt eschews most of the usual tropes associated with such films and far from making his Ingrid a pitiable character, he makes us marvel at the extent of her imagination, and the ability to take her limitation in her stride.

Ingrid is a deeply lonely person, much like Einar and Elin, but her loneliness becomes an outlet for her desires. Sexual repression and total darkness combine forces to fructify into a new world, not strictly of an otherworldly kind, but rather, very human, very grounded in reality. And therefore while she doesn't wander off to a fantastical world with odd beings and surroundings, she still manages to make something unreal out of her real world with somewhat of a Bunuelesque touch. She somehow finds release via these fantasies, which are mostly to do with loneliness and sex.

The characters and the events surrounding them are shown from her perspective, and when eventually fantasies start permeating the facts, revealing Ingrid's mischievous side, the viewer can't help but cheer. It eventually becomes all too clear, with the director leaving little to the viewer's interpretation, the moment Ingrid more or less begins to play God when it comes to the fates of these characters.

Vogt infuses a fair bit of comedy in the mix, especially when Ingrid gets into a more playful mood. Some bravura editing is used to shift scenarios in a manner that you might find yourself rubbing your eyes about what exactly it was that you saw. Elin is shown to have a son, and in the next scene, the son turns into a daughter! Is this the product of Ingrid's memory failing her, or is it a product of her fickle imagination? It is all very subtly done until it comes out in the open.

Vogt's attention to detail about a blind person's thought process is commendable. This is a woman, deprived of romance following her blindness. She can only imagine the changes in her physical appearance thereafter. Following an evening of fine wine, when she gets in a rather romantic mood, and her husband doesn't make an advance, she peeps rather casually "Has my hair turned greyer lately?"

As a blind person, Ingrid is somewhat insecure, as her fears of being left alone manifest in the form of her husband Morten's attempts at infidelity. But imagining this infidelity in the form of an elaborate sex chat full of lurid details hints at the possibility that she is somehow even deriving excitement from this imagination which is not really in her favour. And therefore, after a fleeting moment of self-pity upon being rejected a sexual advance, Ingrid drifts off into a detailed date fantasy about her husband and his imagined mistress, that ends badly albeit in a humourous fashion!

This is a woman craving attention from her husband, but also appreciates that he is still there by her side, despite almost cutting down on the romance. And in, perhaps, the quest for that attention, and in sick desperation, Ingrid sheds all her clothes and presses herself seductively against her glass window for the whole world to see, fully aware of the fact that she can neither see any reaction from anyone, nor can she see for herself what they can.

It is in scenes like these that one can admire the talent involved here. Petersen dishes out a bold and applause-worthy performance as Ingrid, and seems to do it quite effortlessly, considering the film's effectiveness and appeal mostly comes from watching her. Ably supporting her are Kolbenstvedt and Vitali, in acts that almost rival hers in creating characters that one can easily connect with.

With some fine talent on board, a strong script and expert handling, Eskil Vogt has created a masterpiece. This is one director whose work will be looked forward to.

Score: 10/10

The Bothersome Man (2006)

***NOTE: The following analysis/review may contain MILD SPOILERS regarding some detail in the film, but not to the extent of making the film viewing experience any lesser.*** 

The titular bothersome man by the name of Andreas arrives at a strange looking, isolated location, with a welcome sign put up especially for him at a solitary gas station. He looks around, appears lost, but doesn't question anything outright. His confusion and perplexed stares don't last very long and before he knows it, he has a fine job, a fine apartment and a fine girlfriend in a plush, polished city that looks spectacularly ideal....on the surface at least!

Very soon, Andreas begins to realize that there is something grossly amiss, and a lot is quite sinister in this new place. The food lacks any real taste, the alcohol doesn't get him high, and everyone around him, including his girlfriend, is rather emotionally sterile! So what's really going on here?

Norwegian filmmaker Jens Lien delivers the clues but doesn't give straight answers to Andreas' situation in his "The Bothersome Man" (2006). Lien's film is a darkly comic, surreal meditation on urban alienation and a frightening vision of a society desensitized by a consumerist culture.

Andreas finds himself in an overwhelmingly stoic world that he attempts to adapt to, but can't help but carry a perpetually baffled look. Actor Trond Fausa Aurvåg displays this with an  accurately comical expression of bewilderment and a lost sense of reality, similar to an insomniac Edward Norton in "Fight Club" (1999). Everything around Andreas is rather robotic. A couple at the train station engage in a sloppy kiss with blank expressions, devoid of any real emotional connect. People seem to carry fake plastic smiles all the time, and even when they are joking around lunch or dinner, they are merely discussing what furniture to buy from a catalog (in another nod to "Fight Club").

His girlfriend becomes his girlfriend rather casually, and they engage in a ridiculously mechanical sexual act. All she ever seems to care about is furniture and interior decoration. Every scene she is in, she is either talking about or is around some decorative piece of furniture. And when she isn't doing that, she is seen watching furniture ads on TV! Even when they have guests at home, all they talk about is the home decor.

Andreas begins to get increasingly bored of this single-track mentality and a total disinterest in any other more meaningful talk, or any kind of exchange on a personal level from anyone around. A man who apparently jumps to his death is found stuck to a fence, his intestines sticking out. This scene is received rather calmly by the individuals around. No one seems to care. In a movie hall, during a very sentimental scene, it is only Andreas who seems to be quite touched, while the others look on like zombies!

In a Bunuel-esque exaggeration, fitting to the surreal nature of the narrative, Lien does not keep the lack of soul limited to the people. He extends it to the environment and practically everything contained in it. The food they consume is bland; the alcoholic drinks they down seem to lack any effectiveness. And shockingly, all this seems to bother only a handful few, Andreas being one, and one other mysterious individual rambling away in the toilet.

When another girl at his office, who initially seems warmer, reveals herself to be just as insensitive, Andreas gets weary and realizes that he doesn't belong there. But there seems to be no escaping his situation, as is illustrated in a hilariously freaky, but disturbing sequence involving a subway train. The subway scene, and the central theme of a man who finds himself in a nightmarish universe is reminiscent of Adrian Lyne's brilliant psychological thriller "Jacob's Ladder" (1990).

So what is this peculiar place, really? One way to look at it is that it's a myth-breaking representation of paradise, a paradise that everyone seeks, but one that isn't really the most ideal place to be. Or perhaps it is what Andreas achieves as a result of his quest for a personal utopia. It is the manifestation or the final shape attained by his desires, although it doesn't quite turn out to be in tune with his envisioning. What he got instead, was a tasteless world, a world with life sucked out of it.

He ended up with an outcome of a pursuit that was really meaningless and empty; a pursuit of a false happiness through worldly desires, materialistic gains, something that doesn't really spell happiness in the end. While most others in this society, thrive on a false sense of security achieved through these very material gains, content that they have found their utopia, our protagonist is awakened, and seeks to escape to find his own utopia which perhaps, doesn't exist anymore. In the process of chasing the so-called good life, he has left behind the actual good life, which he now longs to go back to.

And therefore, does the discovery of a mysterious hole in the wall give him new hope? A crack that oddly resembles a vagina, an opening that emanates a pleasant smell and lilting music, and somehow seems to give vibes of life. The hole is perhaps symbolic of a gateway to the womb, back into a quaint little motherly kitchen, with the golden sun shining bright, sounds of chirpy children in the background, and a sweet tasting cake lying on the table. What's more, the location of the hole is an apartment building occupied mostly by old timers; suggestive of the last link to the old school! Perhaps Andreas yearns to go back and start over; reclaim the lost paradise, taste the real good life again.

But is there a way back? Or is he trapped in a state of no return, in a never-ending search for a paradise that he may never see? Another journey commences, another transportation, ending up in a world that seems to be a lot more colder than this; and a blizzard seems to await him! Will it ever end for Andreas?

"The Bothersome Man" is a challenging but fun film that is entertaining, visually enticing as well as thematically rich, enough to please any hardcore cinephile. Screenwriter Per Schreiner and filmmaker Jens Lien give us lucky viewers a lot to chew on and a lot to admire in this finely crafted, enigmatic gem.


Score: 9/10

Oslo, August 31st (2011)

We begin with what appear to be snippets of scenes from some distant memories. Photographs and home video clips are flashed in a montage. There are voice-overs reminiscing some happy times, perhaps from someone’s childhood and growing up over the years.

But suddenly we cut to the central character, Anders (Anders Danielsen Lie), as he wakes up in bed and sits in stunned silence, looking sullen, very clearly getting that feeling of waking up to reality. Was that a dream? Had he just drifted away, overcome by nostalgia, back to the days of yore, in times which were very obviously happier?

In the next few minutes we learn that Anders is a recovering drug addict in a rehabilitation program. He gets a day’s leave from his rehab home to go on the outside and try his luck with a job interview. Anders has been clean for over 10 months now, and hasn’t touched a drug or alcohol ever since. It is no mean feat, as some say, very few people manage to make it to the other side. The film then follows Anders as he spends this day in Oslo, the city he grew up in, catching up with old friends, fixing a meeting with his sister, and amongst other things, trying his hand at getting a position as an editorial assistant at a local publication.

Not through explicit depictions, but through some conversations between characters, we come to know that Anders has had a very disturbing recent past as an addict. His addiction had taken a huge toll on his love life, family life, social life, almost about everything! Completely blinded by it, he is financially drained out, and now, apparently, his parents are forced to sell their family house.

At the outset Anders seems to be doing pretty well with his rehabilitation, being genuinely abstinent for almost a year. It is not unknown that coming out of the drug habit is a herculean task. But can life go back to complete normalcy after one is out of it? Not in all cases…

Norwegian filmmaker Joachim Trier's "Oslo, August 31^st", using Anders as a medium, tries to focus on this very aspect of recovering. Substance abuse not only destroys a person physically; it also hampers the person psychologically, doing irreparable damage to that one thing that contributes significantly to mending anything under the sun, and getting life back on track; that thing called hope!

The trip to Oslo turns out to be a wake-up call, rather than a pleasure trip. Anders is now 34. He sees that his buddy Thomas (Hans Olav Brenner, in a naturalistic, superb, performance) is now happily married, has two kids, living a normal life. Other friends too, have moved on and settled down. In one of the best scenes, in a lengthy conversation between the two buddies, Anders reveals his true feelings. He feels left behind. He feels he has lost precious years of his life. It is an irreversible reality that Anders has to face. And he is too scared of this fact. He certainly cannot start from scratch. His views are full of pessimism, and no matter how much Thomas tries to make him feel better, and tries convincing that things are not as bad as they seem, Anders seems to think otherwise, and even harbors suicidal thoughts! In an attempt to ease Anders’ worries, Thomas even goes to the extent of bringing out details of his own life, stressing upon the fact that him and his wife have gradually slipped into this humdrum family life, and that it isn’t as happening as Anders might think it is.

One can’t help but feel Anders’ anguish. Anders Danielsen Lie, with his superlative, heartbreaking performance, makes it all the more believable, as we feel at one with Anders and can instantly relate to him. The filming is minimalist, the acting: amazingly natural, the camerawork: life-like, and there is usage of a hand-held camera for the most part making us viewers feel that it’s actually us, following Anders with a camera, as he covers his itinerary in Oslo…it is that real!

The buddies part, with Thomas hoping for the best, and with the promise of meeting Anders in a party, later in the evening,  at another couple’s place, their common friends.

The job interview gives Anders a ray of hope, as it kicks off well, but a question posed by the interviewer, about a time gap seen in the CV, makes Anders mad and it ends in a disaster, just like he predicts (or wants?). Anders’ case is very understandable. He probably belongs to that category of people who like to wallow in pity and have long lost the patience to do anything about it. Or as Thomas even exclaims once, seeing his attitude, "Be a loser. If that’s what you want". Although one would like to think that the defeatist attitude, perhaps, stems from the shattered confidence.

With "Oslo, August 31^st", which is only his second feature-length film, Joachim Trier has delivered a masterpiece. Rarely does one come across such a restrained, yet frighteningly real and intimate study of a drug addict coming out of the habit. It’s a deeply human drama; a crushing portrait of a troubled young man, a representative of all youngsters out there who are a little more adventurous than they should be. By the end of the first half, we are just too well acquainted with Anders. So much so, that during all the events that take place in the latter half of the film, we feel genuine concern and really wish things would get back on track for him, despite the obvious lag the addiction has introduced in his life. And therefore, we sincerely wish that he wouldn’t pick up that glass of wine at a party he visits later. We wish he wouldn’t follow some friends who decide to go to a rave party.

We keep wishing, for we still have our hopes intact. Only deep within, we are aware of the devastating truth, that Anders has lost his.

Score: 10/10