Review: ‘Look Into My Eyes’ is a compassionate profile of psychics, not out to scam but connect

As a seasoned movie enthusiast who has traversed through countless documentaries and films, I must confess that “Look Into My Eyes” has left an indelible mark on my cinematic journey. Coming from a life brimming with cynicism, I found myself initially drawn to this film as a skeptic, eager to unveil the mysteries of clairvoyants and their enigmatic world. Yet, Lana Wilson’s masterful storytelling transcended my expectations, transforming my skepticism into curiosity and, ultimately, empathy.

At the start of Lana Wilson’s documentary “Look Into My Eyes,” about psychics, a gloomy sky hangs over an unremarkable building in New York City. A faint yellow light emanates from one upper-story window. Within, a woman shares with someone out of frame details about a young girl’s devastating demise, something she’s kept close to her heart for two decades. She yearns for closure, seeking an answer: What happened to her?

As a cinephile, I find myself drawn back to that final exterior shot of the building in the film, where we’ve seen numerous encounters and have come to know several psychics, each with their own lingering sorrows. Yet, as the credits roll, there’s an undeniable shift in this image: The glow from the lit window against the cold, tense cityscape seems to radiate a reassuring warmth. It appears inviting, a beacon of hope amidst the urban grit.

Approaching “Look Into My Eyes” with skepticism is understandable, given our human nature and the mysterious world of clairvoyants that often raises eyebrows. However, in these times of worldwide distress, there’s a common desire to confront and heal our afflictions. This sentiment underlies Wilson’s methodology, a strategy that has previously lent poignancy to documentaries like “After Tiller,” which delved into the lives of abortion doctors, and “The Departure,” focusing on a troubled monk.

From Wilson’s intimate, thoughtful, and somewhat skeptical interactions with a small group of psychics based in New York City, something captivating and impactful arises. This leaves you with a sense of belief not in supernatural abilities or some divine talent, but in the fundamental aspects of connecting with others. These unassuming exchanges of faith and skill provide, in their unique way, a form of comfort.

In my perspective, Wilson’s observational style is akin to filming an intimate conversation between equals, using a multi-camera setup that initially feels tense but eventually settles into a quiet, respectful atmosphere, much like a significant interview. The clients, with their tentative smiles as they pose questions or wait for responses, and the psychics, who reveal their own unease in the process, create an environment that is both intriguing and nerve-wracking. It’s almost like a first dance where both parties are cautious not to tread on each other’s toes, yet finding a rhythm that harmonizes with the situation and feels right. This delicate balance between apprehension and anticipation makes for an engaging spectacle.

In many instances, it appears as if these situations are attempts to be acknowledged, with the hope of receiving a compassionate, rational response from the person before you. For instance, an adoptee yearns for information about her Chinese birth parents who relinquished her (not because they were selfish, but because adoption can be challenging). A woman, tensed up, worries that her stubborn dog may not care for her (he senses your anxiety; try to remain calm). A young Black man becomes preoccupied with the price at which his ancestor was sold into slavery (rather than dwelling on this, focus on establishing your own independence and freedom).

In a sense, giving comfort is mutual for both parties involved. It’s worth noting that many psychics have experienced turmoil and solitude themselves, often being former or current actors. This background frequently colors the advice they provide: affirming individuality, acknowledging the impossibility of altering the past, assuring lost loved ones accept them, hinting at upcoming recognition. Upon closer inspection, their lives can appear fragile, and it becomes clear that during these sessions, they’re seeking solace as much as providing it to their clients.

During interviews, Wilson’s voice can be heard from off-camera, softly asking: Is this more about improvisation? Their responses aren’t defensive; instead, they trust in a friendly assurance that they aren’t completely aware of what’s happening, but they believe something is. As one of them explains, “If it strikes a chord, the details don’t truly matter.

“Human connections are treasures, creativity has strength, and empathy isn’t a deception. This is the message that the enigmatic ‘Look Into My Eyes’ subtly conveys to us from its watchful vantage point. Although these freelance healers might not practice professional therapy, Wilson’s heartfelt documentary — one of the year’s finest — allows us to set aside our skepticism and contemplate the profound emotions that can be shared when two open, responsive individuals engage in a trusting pretense.

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2024-09-14 01:31