Blind Eye
Blind Eye is the first play of the writer Susannah Finzi, and it was apparently first thought by its author as a brief documentary motion picture. The idea of portraying the events of the play in such a manner remains in this work that combines fabricated occurrences with real history, and many of its protagonists, although fictional, have clearly recognizable features of well-known personalities.
The best thing about the show is that it is an exploration of the various tragedies of the 20th century. There are however some weaknesses in these strengths which are sometimes enhanced by efforts of excess drama. In the year 1982, the play depicts the futile attempts to prosecute a Nazi war criminal. The play commences with the images of fast paced sequences featuring the attorneys involved in the case, news clips from the combat areas and the pondering of an elder man who is unknown about the moralities of war. The result is amazing and confusing, and the production engages you effectively into its story even before you know what you are seeing.
Right after this introduction there comes probably one of the most powerful scenes throughout the whole play. Stefan (Anthony Green outstanding performance), an international aid worker, is giving a speech, looking at us, concerning displaced people and the world’s lack of interest in their suffering. It is emotional and accusatory and results in strong anticipation in the audience. In fact, most of the dialogues and the actors all throughout the performances are the best and most convincing whenever such broad ideas, problematic as they are, are put forward and the viewership is confronted with ugly political realities.
There is a secondary theme in the work which is executed less successfully. Besides looking into the aspect of justice and world relations in the film, Blind Eye narrates about three fathers: the human rights judge in retired age, a father, who owns a café in Lisbon, and the son of a Nazi party’s staff member. Their tears over their offspring are revealed, juxtaposed, and sobriqueted the problems of paternity and heritage. There is a lot of interesting material to be mined here, but I have to say that the family drama parts of the work do at times verge on the soap opera. This is partly caused by several of the scripting beats which repeat, which overstay the emotional conflicts for much too long.
The sound and lighting design is sometimes a bit excessive one of the people I was watching the theatre with called it ‘a bit CSI Miami-y’ however, he was right. Many of the scenes would finish on a shrill note, which quite frankly brought to mind the endings of many police procedural dramas. While these did aid in maintaining the quick tempo of the show, the addition seemed strange for the piece. Also some of the portrayals, especially Clare Louise Amias’ take on the principal war crime case prosecutor, do veer towards melodramatic. This fits in with the fast-paced opening montage very well but is a distraction during the more quiet, tender, and close-up moments.
This does not make it perfect but even such imperfections make it quite an appealing read as the main narrative is so good and well expressed that all the things that fail can easily be ignored. Finzi is able to take the cliché of Nazi war crimes and use it to comment on wars in general and the systems in place to deal with them and does so with a surprising flair for a rather young novelist.
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