At First Sight Review
by "Harvey S. Karten" (film_critic AT compuserve DOT com)January 10th, 1999
AT FIRST SIGHT
Reviewed by Harvey Karten, Ph.D.
MGM
Director: Irwin Winkler
Writer: Steve Levitt, and Irwin Winkler & Rob Cowan, story by Oliver Sacks
Cast: Val Kilmer, Mira Sorvino, Kelly McGillis, Steven Weber, Bruce Davison, Nathan Lane
Imagine that you've been transported to a distant planet in another galaxy, one which has the same climate and atmospheric conditions as Earth. You're pleasantly surprised that you can breathe just as you did in your own world and even more astonished that the people you see around you can all speak English. But that's where the familiarity ends. The signs on the stores are written in a language which appears a cross between Thai and hieroglyphics. You stretch out your hand to shake with a friendly man coming toward you, but the man knocks you flat on your back and is then paradoxically solicitous about your health. You run outside to feel the snowflakes but, stretching out your palm, you are severely burned by the white substance floating cheerfully to the ground. You pick up a piece of fruit resembling a Golden Delicious apple, bite into it, and detect the taste of cardboard- -it's only the picture of an apple. After a while, you adapt to this strange and wondrous culture, you meet someone on your own wavelength, and resolve never to return to Earth.
Science fiction? Of course. The principal character of Irwin Winkler's involving new film takes such a metaphorical trip to outer space. "At First Sight" centers on a short, dramatic incident in the life of Virgil Adamson (Val Kilmer), totally blind from the age of three because of a combination of retinitis pigmentosa and congenital cataracts, a man whose father puts the boy through a series of probes conducted by all sorts of people, from professional ophthalmologists to new-age faith healers--all to no avail. Resigned to his condition, Virgil puts himself in the loving care of his older sister, Jenny (Kelly McGillis), and takes on the career of a massage therapist in an Adirondack Mountain resort not far from New York City. We don't wonder that Virgil is a popular favorite among the guests at the spa: with the increased sense of touch that a blind man develops, he becomes very good at his trade. In the PG-13 film's most erotic scene, Winkler shows Virgil easing the cares of a successful New York architect, Amy Benic (Mira Sorvino), who is literally brought to tears by her contact with Virgil's strong and seemingly enchanted palms.
Amy's fondness for Virgil grows, leading to the consummation of their mutual attraction in a sexual embrace which, compared to the earlier spectacle in the massage room, is disappointingly mechanical. When Amy suggests that Virgil submit himself to a new, experimental surgery at the famed Manhattan Eye and Ear Hospital--which counts among its practitioners the world's finest eye doctors--Virgil's reluctance gives us pause. Wouldn't any of us in his position enthusiastically agree to such surgery, whatever the odds of success? It is a tribute to Winkler's directorial skills, and to a fine script based on neurologist Oliver Sacks's book "To See and Not See," that we understand his hesitation. Not only had he gone through a long series of painful procedures as a young lad, but more important, he has grown comfortable in his limited world. Virgil is aware--as his sighted counterparts are not--that regaining the use of his eyes would be like our traveling to that distant planet. He would be like the characters in Plato's cave who finally break their chains, refusing to believe that the shadow which a fire cast on the wall was the only reality. Emerging into the sun, the occupants of the cave are soon driven back to the dark confines of their cavity, blinded by the light above and rejecting the images they see as though they were segments of a strange, satanic dream.
As though to confirm Virgil's prejudices, he is at first blinded by light, then exposed to a thousand images which bewilder him to the point of derangement. Standing in the middle of fast-moving car lanes in New York City, he refuses to believe that an onrushing vehicle could hurt him. When he spots his image in a mirror, you don't wonder that he says "hello" and is put off when he receives no answer. He walks into glass, in one case shattering it; he cannot distinguish between an apple and a picture of an apple; he observes Amy giving a brief kiss to her ex-husband and present architectural partner Sam Allanbrook (Steven Webster) and wonders, "What does that kiss mean?" He attends a noisy party with Amy and soon wants to go home because he feels he does not belong in this world. Essentially Virgil is not unlike Ray Charles, the blind jazz pianist, who once declared that he would not wish to leave his state of sightlessness because he senses a greater authenticity in his present
condition.
The chemistry between Val Kilmer and Mira Sorvino is palpable, but then, when Sorvino dances with her ex- husband--who is attempting a reconciliation--the sparks fly even more. Sorvino is cute--not a beauty by Hollywood standards. With her ski-slope nose and expressive features, she is ideally cast as the credible lover of a sightless man. Sorvino is so emotive that we don't wonder that her character broke up with her husband, whom she describes as a man with the emotional depth of a soapdish, one who cried only once, when he did his tax returns three years earlier. Val Kilmer, not a great actor, is burdened with a moronic smile through most of the story, the sort of grin that psychologists often associate with a contemptuous air. Bruce Davison is far better as the doctor excited by the prospects of reversing a serious disability. This remarkable actor, who in the role of Charles Aaron combines professional dignity with an expression of genuine caring, rivets attention in every scene while Kelly McGillis, in the role of the self-sacrificing sister who enviously fears the loss of her dependent brother to another woman, performs adequately. In an all-too-small role, Nathan Lane does shtick as only he can do. He is Dr. Phil Webster, an unorthodox sight therapist who at one point takes his prize patient to a strip joint to further highlight the joys of seeing. Lane has the movie's best line. Describing the limbo separating a man who has newly regained sight and one who has spent enough time in therapy to distinguish an apple from a magazine picture, he holds that "limbo is like New Jersey: you can see all the good things that are happening; you just have to find out how to get there."
While "At First Sight" brings to mind "Beyond Silence," a portrayal of the world of the deaf, an even better correlation can be made with Ralph Nelson's 1968 charmer, "Charly," which featured Oscar-winner Cliff Robertson as the title character who is changed from a retarded baker's helper to a man of genius--only to be transformed unhappily back when the operation ultimately fails. "At First Sight," with its panoply of emotional responses, is a fine example of romantic melodrama which professionally displays the effects of dramatic change on the life of a man and of the persons whose lives he touches.
Rated PG-13. Running Time: 128 minutes. (C) 1999
Harvey Karten
Originally posted in the rec.arts.movies.reviews newsgroup. Copyright belongs to original author unless otherwise stated. We take no responsibilities nor do we endorse the contents of this review.
