After losing her sight as an adult, Ingrid begins a slow retreat from the world. Encapsulated in the safety of her home and her head, she turns to fictions she builds around the memory of the things she could once see.
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Understated & crisp in appearance (the Scandi aesthetic naturally), disarmingly & charmingly frank in tone, this is much more than just a representation of disability. It is the disconnect between people and feeling, the frustration felt, both emotionally & sexually, at life and isolation that is as comforting as it is all-consuming. Beautiful. The representation of self-made inner fantasies is startlingly accurate.
An endlessly inventive and entertaining rendition of the creative process form within the head of the author. Blind is less about the process of coping with the isolation of blindness and more about the therapeutic effects of storytelling. Vogt here makes the most compelling case in favour of film being an ideal medium for depicting the perceptions and relationships of those without the benefit of sight.
Surprisingly playful drama that blurs the lines between reality and fiction with a subtlety that is admirable and gentle. The deftness of touch shown by first time director Eskil Vogt is extremely exciting.
Way better than Oslo 31 August, so one more star even though Vogt is not good as Trier in terms of technique. I thought I could get mad for the voice over, but that's ok, there's one good reason for it and in the end you just wanna buy some new IKEA bookshelves.