The unexpected things we see

The unexpected is the ultimate impetus for an idle mind. It kicks it into gear. It gives things shape that otherwise we would not bother molding. It's the unexpected, because it storms out of the unseen, that manages to break us free of the shackles of everyday thought.

The unexpected can be as minute and meaningless in nature as you can imagine; and it is, perhaps, in that, its size relative to our ever-expanding universe, that it holds all the power to change us. It is a universe unto itself. It creates the possibility of infinite worlds. These small unexpected things and events are, in and of themselves, infinity.

Sometimes, a movie can change you. It can, in the very least, open your eyes. It should, if it's worth anything at all.

But how can a blind girl open your eyes?

By showing you all she sees. By showing you that there exists a universe in every crack of the sidewalk your superstitious feet avoid. By leading you through a journey by trusting the sounds of the forest, and feeling her way through the trees. By seeing the possibility of infinite worlds in the places our eyes won't go.

Writers have written about this sort of thing before. Nobel Prize winner José Saramago utilized a similar tool in his book, "Blindness." In it, everyone loses their sight except a girl. She leads them through the journey they must take and it is only later in the book that the reader is made aware of just why she hasn't lost her sight; because she is pure of heart and intent.

In M. Night Shyamalan's "The Village," the protagonist is the one who is blind. Or is she? In her 'blindness' she sees things no one else can see, such as the aura around her beloved. She moves around the village with relative ease, waving her walking stick before her as one might use a flashlight in complete darkness. So it's not as if she can't see. Rather, she sees the world differently. She is not hindered by the blindness, but almost blessed with it. She is strong, compassionate, brave.

When she comes to the outside of the woods, when she reaches her destination, something that should appear very wrong to her doesn't because of her blindness. For all her strength and intelligence she is still limited in an all too human way. She can't see what is around her. She is like an innocent child who hears a dirty joke, she can't grasp what is really going on. She lacks the eyes for it.

As scared as she is throughout her journey she understands that she must go on. The man she loves is fighting for his life. She is brave for him.

There is a love story underneath the M. Night style of dark films. And there is a moral; or the questioning of morals in the very least. There's also a twist. But like all things, it works best because it is never forced down the audience's throat. There are many facets to the plot, but they are not fighting for control of the story. Rather, they just exist - much as such things would in real life.

For all that goes on in "The Village," and we know there is much we are not privy to since it is a M. Night film, most of the population is also blind. The much-advertised creatures from the woods are never named, there is no time or location established as a setting, and the list goes on and on. People fear what they don't know and in that the audience is much like the population of the village; we are on the edge of our seats because we truly don't know what's coming next much as they know only not to go in the woods.

But that is where the similarities end. The village is controlled by a fear of the unknown whereas the audience is ushered along to discover the truth. By the end the audience is more informed than the village. We know more; we are aware of the context of every last detail because the director takes great care in laying everything out. But are we better for it? The village retains its innocence; can the same be said of us?

We, too, live in fear, and we don't even have innocence to boast of.

Through the sacrifice of the one who can't see, hope lives on. The ideals the village stands for, whether right or wrong, continue to exist. What the future holds is not certain. Will love survive in the face of physical limitations? Can a miracle prolong love? Can the blind really see so much more than those who are allowed to see? The answer would surprise you. The answer is unexpected. Just like what we encounter when we leave the theater. Our world has not changed and that, given what we just watched, is truly unexpected. We are like the blind girl coming home from the monster-ridden forest. Her return is unexpected.

But for us, who return to our repetitive existence, what is more unexpected than tomorrow?