The Sensation of Sight

If titles are useful indicators of what a film has in store, then The Sensation of Sight must be a very profound 134 minutes. Trouble is, first time director and writer Aaron Wiederspahn's ambitions heavily outweigh his ability to actually make a profound film. As is usually the case, wanting to be profound and actually being profound is an ocean apart and, unfortunately, TSOS is no exception.

TSOS's multiple characters all wear their angst on their sleeves and each of them stumbles through life burdened by their past, tortured in the present and bouncing off each other for the sole purpose of pulling out little bits of profundity from one another. This not so subtle device is used in excess as a means to propel the story and illuminate each enigmatic character's back story one tidbit at a time. But little of TSOS's overt melodrama feels sincere, instead it's authorial voice screams from rooftops at how deep and emotionally powerful the writer's words are. The stabs at deeper meaning are telegraphed through a series of overwrought contrivances, making it very difficult to identify with characters who do unnatural things, spew writerly dialogue and awkwardly interact with one another for the sole purpose of forwarding narrative. In many ways, TSOS is reminiscent of Paul Haggis' Crash, another heavily contrived film that will stop at nothing to prove to you how profound it is. While Crash barely manages to pull off the impossible, TSOS falls short.

Despite it's weaknesses, TSOS does possess a quiet charm, a quality that comes through in it's slow pacing, attention to minutiae and simple yet poetic photography. It also possesses an effectively minimal soundtrack punctuated with occasional injections of indie rock gems. Nevertheless, Wiederspahn's inexperience as a filmmaker seeps into TSOS and it never manages to escape the suffocating voice of its author. There's a good chance Wiederspahn has the tools and the sensitivity to mature into a uniquely talented and individual filmmaker, but unless you've got 2 plus hours to dispense on potential, you might be better off waiting for his next film.

The first half of the movie was a 7, but it makes a quick jump to an 8 when the story line starts to pull together. It's a slow-paced movie, so be awake. It's a movie that looks at life as many see it every day, but from a more tragic point of view. Life can take a tragic turn, as we find has happened before this movie opens. What follows next for viewers, and in real-life for those of us that feel very deeply about such things, is a slow decent into madness. That's what I feel this movie is saying. The title could have been "The Sensation of Sense", because that's what I think the main character(s), as well as the rest of us, are looking for when the rest of the world says "Just move on. Life can't be centered on you." We're just looking for some type of understanding, some type of sense we can frame it all in... so we can move on.

American cinema doesn't have a history of taking risks. Instead it likes to put movies out into the public like cars on an assembly line. Same car, same make. They just change up the details. What the writer/director does in TSOS is to take risks and take on some difficult issues. Instead of having the actors explain everything as we're going along, he takes the risk of allowing the film to develop on its own.

If you go to watch a film made from Hollywood you might get that "wow" effect... but what about the second, third, fourth time? Do you get more out of each time? Or do you just find the same? With TSOS it's more like a play or novel. There are enough layers that you don't completely understand the story in its full extent until you watch it over and over again. It's like strong medicine and some of the weaker critics who only like "fluff films" and "cheap entertainment experiences" won't appreciate what this film has to offer.

I like movies about the meaning of life. Yes, they lack action, no special effects, no slick plots... just down-to-earth conversations.

It's a bit odd that Finn (David Strathairn) romps about town with encyclopedias in his little red wagon, but that's the point. The movie is slow for a reason. The images drive this movie as much as the characters. Each visual is as deep as the dialog.

The way Finn stops and wonders, the expressions on his face, his pauses in dialog... . The character of Finn would be a hard one to portray, but Strathairn provides a wonderful performance. Hats off to whoever cast him for the part.

New Hampshire provides a picturesque setting for this indie feature, with a fine performance by David Strathairn as a grief stricken English teacher who has dropped out and is walking the town, pulling a child's wagon behind him filled with encyclopedias to sell door to door.

Along the way, he meets an odd assortment of people in this character driven drama. A single mother, a widowed father with a teen daughter, a loner, and other every day, ordinary men and women, just struggling to survive in this cold cruel world. Strathairn is Finn, the philosophical everyman, meeting these fellow travelers on his wandering journey, with books of knowledge to offer the public. The story is in the vein of some of John (The World According to Garp) Irving's work, but missing his darker, humorous aspects. Finn is a compelling figure, but the movie meanders along for over two hours, which, in the end, wore me out.