In a nondescript time, in a nondescript country, an epidemic is tearing through the population. Referred to as the "white sickness", it blocks people's vision, leaving them seeing only a bright white light. One of the first to be afflicted is "The Doctor", played by Mark Ruffalo ("
Zodiac"), who is quickly packed away by a panicked government. "The Doctor's Wife", played by Julianne Moore ("
Children of Men"), fearing for her husband's safety, insists that she be taken as well, falsely claiming that she has also gone blind. In short order, both find themselves confined to a dismal quarantine facility that lacks staff, medical supplies, and all but the most basic requirements for survival.
As the facility fills beyond capacity, conditions quickly worsen, and food deliveries become insufficient, The Doctor finds himself selected to be the leader of his hospital ward, faced with the unenviable task of trying to maintain order as it becomes clear that the government has abandoned them to their fate. It is The Doctor's Wife, however, who really supports his efforts, while still concealing the fact that she is the only one that can see.
In more forceful hands, this set-up could easily have become a clichéd thriller or procedural drama, but screenwriter Don McKellar ("Thirty Two Short Films About Glenn Gould") makes the wise choice to back away from the story of the illness, opting instead to look at how his characters adjust to their horrifying new reality. With a minimum of moralizing or judgment, Mr. McKellar simply strips away the thin veneer of modern society and lets them face the choices and compromises that they are willing to make to survive. It is only in the resolution of the story that he falls prey to a disappointing need for audience catharsis.
Director Fernando Meirelles ("City of God") also does a commendable job. He ably evokes the claustrophobic feeling of being physically incarcerated and he effectively conveys the crushing sense of despair. Unfortunately, he falls a bit short in conveying the paralyzing detachment from the world that one imagines would result from such a sudden lack of sight. Also, some of his visuals, specifically the pack of wild dogs fighting over a kill, are a bit more obvious than necessary.
Both Mr. McKellar and Mr. Meirelles owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to the gifted cast of supporting players, including Alice Braga, Danny Glover, and Gael Garcia Bernal. Like Ms. Moore and Mr. Ruffalo, they all graciously allow themselves to disappear into the shadows. Like their no-name, no-backstory characters, they bring nothing of their past careers to distract from this film. In particular, mention must be given Maury Chaykin ("Entourage") who plays The Accountant, blind from birth but apparently still quarantined in the panic. His quiet bitterness and menace act as the perfect catalyst for the rest of the characters.
"Blindness" is not an easy film to watch, nor should it be. It is, however, well worth the discomfort. In an America where natural disasters are increasingly common, the threat of war is constantly looming, and the rights of the individual are increasingly diminishing, it may be wise for us all to consider the kind of choices that we might make to save ourselves. The social contract is, after all, a very tenuous thing.
