Seriously Overdue Movie Review: The Blind Side

Somewhere along the way last winter, either the vast hordes of people that saw The Blind Side or the scads of early critics that anointed it worthy of being seen by the aforementioned scads of people that saw it (my research-free assumption on this point: Gene Shalit types) looked at this movie and judged it for what they thought it was, or what it appeared to be and not for what it really was. Somewhere along the way, people saw Sandra Bullock "in a role like you've never seen her before," (which is to say, the role of Erin Brockovich or her ilk) and became convinced that this was a feel-good movie about love conquering all and helping out your fellow man (-child) or being color-blind or class-blind or some combination of all of the above.

I have a hard time blaming them for seeing The Blind Side in this light, as it was certainly put on this way. As I comically alluded to a couple weeks ago, one wouldn't have been crazy to deem it Houseguest 2, either. All the traits of a light farce were there: stunt casting in the way of a country music star and a gang of real-life college football coaches appearing on screen just long enough to pitch their programs in 15 seconds or less, a precocious (read: annoying) child wise beyond his years, and a general air that seemed to say "there are no consequences to be found here whatsoever - don't think about this too deeply, because we sure didn't, either."

The thing is, though, The Blind Side purports to be a true story (or at least inspired or whatever euphemism they used for "making it up as they went along" this time around). And that true story is a two-ton heavy one with cultural touchstones that have the ability to set people off from all sides. It's based on the detailed writings of a book written not very long ago about events that took place sometime within the framework of everyone's memory. In other words, this ain't about the Civil War, and you can't get away with a load of bullshit and figure that you won't have to worry about it because everyone involved has been dead for a century.

And yet, it takes little more than a handful of orange and yellow Nerf darts to blow all kinds of holes in the story presented, and it's not like those gaps or additions have been replaced by anything substantial. The minorest of minor lip service is given to Michael Oher's background, race, place in the Tuohy household, etc. Things that could and/or would (especially in the South) be major, major obstacles to that happy ending are but mere blips on the radar, no more troubling to the family than a headache might be to you. The husband and wife don't discuss potentially adopting a strange teenage boy - it's just glossed over with a glib one-liner that plays to the "what she wants, she gets" stereotype by the comic-relief husband (who's supposed to be a multi-millionaire businessman at this point). Haha - how cute those two when discussing such immaterial matters!

Of course, the larger issue with the film as it's set up is that there's no tension whatsoever; NFL fans will already know the outcome - that Oher not got his scholarship to Ole Miss but was a first-round draft pick of the Baltimore Ravens - while those unaware won't have to worry about Oher's future anyway. After all, he was the adopted son of an upper-class family; why were any of them all that worried about a football scholarship anyway? NFL or no, I don't imagine that poverty was in his future at that point regardless. So, the filmmakers must have decided "Hey, we have a film with no drama, so we might as well make it folksy and charming!"

What lost potential.

Fletch's Film Rating:

	"You seem a decent fellow...I hate to kill you."

Shaky Cam Rating (details):	LAMBScore: