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Based on a true story documented by physician Oliver Sacks ("Awakenings"), much of "At First Sight" is the creakily familiar love story about mismatched paramours. Tense New York architect Amy (Mira Sorvino) meets mellow upstate masseur Virgil (Val Kilmer) and the two opposites gasp! attract. The sticking point here is not that Virgil comes from the wrong side of the railroad tracks it's that he literally can't see the railroad tracks.
Since the onslaught of cataracts and retinitis pigmentosa at the age of 3, he's been blind as a bat (admittedly a sexy blond bat with big hands and a hockey stick that doubles as a cane). Virgil's condition, which he has never considered an infirmity, has heightened his other physical senses, making him not only especially sensitive to sound, smell, touch and taste but, needless to say, great in bed.
Overachiever Amy, in her compulsion to fix things, even those that ain't really broke, tracks down a prominent surgeon (Bruce Davison) who has developed an experimental procedure that promises to give Virgil back his vision. Reluctant at first, eventually her hunky new honey agrees to the operation, moving into Amy's Manhattan apartment where he must teach himself to use his eyes all over again after a lifetime of darkness.
It wouldn't be much of a movie if there weren't some additional obstacles to happy-ever-after land, and sure enough there are, both those you might expect and plenty of those you wouldn't. In addition to the ration of main-course mush that "At First Sight" dishes out, it also serves as a hearty side dish a relatively thought-provoking exploration of what it means to see both literally and figuratively. The message of the movie is that the more important organ in vision is not the eyeball but the mind. Under the care of a goofy vision therapist (Nathan Lane), Virgil comes to understand that he sees, but cannot recognize what he is looking at. That disconnect between the physiological and the psychological unnerves him.
Why is Dubuffet art and graffiti vandalism, for example? How does an innocent happy birthday kiss from Amy's ex-husband (Steven Weber) differ from cheating? Why does he keep walking into plate-glass windows? And what is the puffy, cloud-like thing that is the sole image Virgil can remember from childhood?
The search for answers takes the fledgling couple through some dangerous relationship straits. Even as he's coping with the everyday baggage that all new lovers share as well as a barrage of startling visual sensations, Virgil's estranged father (Ken Howard) surfaces after the old man sees his son on the news. Meanwhile back at home in the country, Virgil's humorless and overprotective sister (Kelly McGillis) is ready to say, "I told you so" as the reluctant medical guinea pig contemplates throwing in the towel.
Surprisingly, pretty-boy Kilmer is not bad playing a sightless guy. He moves his head slightly to and fro in that Stevie Wonder way without ever turning the portrayal into caricature. All the while he wears a beatifically goofy grin, as though he has no idea what facial expression he is making. Sorvino doesn't embarrass herself either as a high-powered career woman, although traces of "Romy and Michele"-esque valley-speak do sometimes creep into her voice.
Most refreshingly, although the story follows several well-worn ruts down lover's lane, screenwriter Steve Levitt resists shoehorning the bittersweet, fact-based drama into a Hollywood happy ending at least not until on-screen titles rush in to reassure us that yes, children, even in life sometimes fairy tales do come true.
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