IN YOUR EYES

Every now and then you come across a film with a great concept. When this happens, the reality of the situation needs no explanation – no “why is this happening”, no “how does it work?”. The concept stands on its own and just draws you into its reality. Thing is, a great concept can only take you so far – then story structure has to take over to finish the deed. Unfortunately, this is where some great concepts meet their demise.

Such is the case for IN YOUR EYES.

In case you missed news of this film’s arrival, it’s directed by Brin Hill and written by Joss Whedon debuted at the Tribeca Film Festival a few weeks ago, and was then immediately released on-demand. The story is that of Rebecca and Dylan (Zoe Kazan and Michael Stahl-David). She is the socialite wife of a doctor in New Hampshire, he is a paroled ex-con living in a trailer in New Mexico. What they have in common is that they share some supernatural bond that allows them to occasionally see through each other’s eyes, and feel what the other is feeling. So if Dylan takes a punch to the head, Rebecca will wince even though nobody is near her. What’s more, they can hear one-another as if they were sitting at the same table.

Unfortunately, while it allows their unusual relationship to bloom, to everyone else around them, it appears as though Rebecca and Dylan are talking to themselves.

While some might see the words “written by Joss Whedon” and begin foaming at the mouth, it’s important to note that this is a script Whedon wrote twenty years ago. While it has undergone many revisions since that first version, it seems to lack the sharpness Whedon’s writing would gain through the years. It’s got cuteness to spare, and a great deal of charm. Unfortunately most of its cuteness and charm is contained to these two characters, so any time a secondary character needs to enter into the fray, they feel like shadows…chalk drawings…ghosts.

What’s more, the story can’t hold when it enters its third act and a crisis finally presents itself into the lives of Rebecca and Dylan. The crisis feels implausible – which I realize sounds strange in a story where we are already accepting two people being able to communicate through inner monologue. The thing is that going along with such a crazy notion requires a great deal of goodwill on the part of the audience. If we feel as though our goodwill is being squandered, we begin to feel jilted, and push back against the source.

In hindsight, I find myself wishing that this script had been turned into a short film – something that established the connection between Dylan and Rebecca and allowed us to watch their interplay over the course of a few days. The two are very sweet with each other – in many ways they actually act like beautifully timid teenagers. Their relationship is amazingly well established, even without the actors getting the chance to play off one-another. No overbearing husband, or helion friends could hold a candle to their chemistry, and every time they had to pull away from each other to explain things, we just find ourselves wanting them to turn back to one-another and get back to the matter at hand.

It’s such a wonderful concept. Pity about the structure.