What’s With All The Blind Movies?

Hollywood’s track record with portraying disability is largely lackluster, and blindness is no different. There are certainly instances in which it may make sense for a blind character to take center stage, but when this disability is used as a plot device, it often comes off as tone-deaf and cheap. Just in the last year, there’s been the cringeworthy Blind, starring Alec Baldwin as a cranky renowned novelist who loses his sight in a car accident, The Ticket, featuring Dan Stevens as a blind man who regains his sight only to be blinded by his desire for superficial things, and this past week, All I See Is You, starring Blake Lively as a woman who similarly regains her sight and uncovers some disturbing truths about her marriage.

So what’s with the Hollywood obsession? On the surface level, it makes sense that blindness is such a point of fascination – it’s one of our primary senses, and the notion of losing it – or having lost it and regaining it – is fairly life-changing. But what is it about sight and the lack thereof and the utilization of disabled people as props? There are several factors that likely contribute to this phenomenon. The first – and most problematic – is that writers seem to be looking for some giant, earth-shattering incident in a character’s life to spark change, and using disability to do so seems like a pretty easy (and cheap) way to do so. The fear of losing one of our senses is a fairly primal one; watching a character on screen do so likely ignites something visceral in us, ensuring that the writers behind these stories elicit some kind of reaction. While some stories may possess honesty and sensitivity when it comes to these depictions, most meet the unfortunate plight of media created by folks who have no real experience with disability: tone-deafness.

There’s also the reversal of this; if a character has not become blind or disabled and reevaluated their existence as a result, they have regained their sight and now must face the horrors of the seeing world. These kinds of stories imply that the grass is always greener on the able-bodied side; regaining sight is seen as a miracle or a total gift. While blind culture may not be as thriving a community as deaf culture, it is presumptuous to assume that all disabled people wish that they were able to see, hear, or walk. When it comes to these on-screen portrayals, if their disability isn’t in some state of change, they are often relegated to a role that implies they have some sort of otherworldly wisdom, skill, or ability because of their blindness. Some blind people may certainly boast abilities that the rest of us don’t (just like anyone might), but implying that they possess some sort of magical skillset or superior emotional intelligence because of their lack of sight isn’t really fair to anyone. Everyone is different – so why pigeonhole disabled people into one stereotype?

At the end of the day, disabled people are woefully underrepresented in media, and using them as tools is not a positive contribution to said representation. Disabled individuals are entitled the same depictions as anyone else, and often have fascinating, unique stories to tell. If we want to give human beings enduring all walks of life fair, accurate, and sensitive portrayals, we have to stop using them as props to propel the stories of others.