Ethan never intended to view "A Blind Man's Gambit."
In truth, he did not have any intention to see anything. It was late October and a Friday evening. The evening felt heavy in a way that he did not believe an evening on a Friday should feel. School had gone too slow, his parents were at a dinner with people he did not care about, and the house felt far too quiet.
So he put on his jacket, grabbed the loose cash from his wallet, and drove to the closest multiplex because that was his habit, not because he intended to.
The marquee held nothing of interest.
A loud comedy sequel, which he had never seen the initial instalment of, was featured at one movie theatre. At another theatre, there was a romance that looked sickeningly authentic. There was another fantasy movie due in about 3 weeks, so there were no holiday pictures at the present time. For the time being, Ethan stood with both hands in his pockets chewing on the insides of his cheek.
Finally, he noticed a smaller poster located next to the main poster.
"A Blind Man's Gambit" was the name of the movie.
There were no dazzling cuts, no smiling couples, no explosions in this poster for a movie... Just a picture of a man out of focus with sunglasses on, a faint shadow of a piano behind him. There was tension in this poster, but it was only implied, not shown.
With his shoulders falling, Ethan said, "Why not?" and purchased a ticket.
When he found his seat in the nearly empty theatre (only about 50% capacity), he saw mostly older couples, and the few younger people in attendance, like Ethan, were all by themselves.
The atmosphere felt lifeless and dull, so he sank down into his chair, resting his soda on the left armrest and the popcorn on the right, fully expecting to feel both regret and disappointment by the end of the night.
Then, the lights dimmed.
When the film began, Ethan felt that the film was turning too quietly... And it stayed that way throughout the film; long shots and lingering moments of a man crossing the street and colliding with a woman, along with dialogue that sounded pretty ordinary.
Ethan began to fidget in his seat.
Ethan did feel a moment of excitement when things began to click for him in this film, but it wasn't just one moment that excited him; the clustering of "smaller" moments, like the camera always staying on something for just a half-second longer than expected, finally made Ethan view sound as a more dominant force than sight.
Also, the blindness of the film's protagonist was never played for pity or sympathy; instead, it was represented as very definite and intentional.
Ethan's popcorn chewing stopped.
About halfway through the movie, he realized he hadn't blinked a single time.
When the brutal murder happened—unexpectedly and violently—right in front of someone who wasn't supposed to witness it, Ethan changed positions entirely.
When the murder occurred, he now sat leaning forward over his knees with his elbows resting on them and his drink now sitting beside him as he'd forgotten to take any more sips. His mind raced ahead of what he was watching on the screen; however, it lost each time.
"How did I not see that?" he asked himself while watching one of the scenes.
"Wait, was that really so important?" was a thought everyone can relate to.
What created tension was not the jump-scare moments, but rather the feeling of helplessness when watching someone pretend they did not know what they really knew (as well as observing a threat entering into a space filled with people who were oblivious to this danger).
Once the second half began (which was then far messier, more eccentric, and much harder to come to grips with), Ethan still did not pull away from the film but instead adjusted his mind according to the preceding scenes. This is what filmmakers do by the films they create: They push or pressure audiences to stay with them.
As for the ending—
The ending does not give you a resolution or an explanation for everything that occurred throughout the entire film.
The lights slowly illuminate the auditorium.
Ethan remains seated in the theatre.
Around him, most people are standing up, stretching, and engaging in quiet conversation. Someone behind Ethan commented, in a neutral voice, "That was weird", to which someone else answered, "Weird, but good?"
Ethan does not stand until the credits are almost finished rolling.
When he finally stands up, he feels stiffness in his legs and a buzzing in his head from all the thoughts rolling through his mind, rather than from the volume of sound from the film. He exits the theatre lobby into a very bright environment, feeling somewhat unstable as though he just woke up from a very vivid dream and wasn't sure if any of it was real.
Once he is outside, the night air is much colder.
Ethan gets into his vehicle and sits there for 1 minute before turning the engine on.
He continues to replay scenes from the movie in his mind, specifically the coffee, the piano, the glass moment, and the way the main character quickly turned his head.
"Was he truly blind?" Ethan asked himself as he murmured.
"Was he really blind?" Ethan murmured aloud.
He shook his head, laughing softly. "No way."
Then he frowned.
"…Or was he?"
The thought followed him home.
That night, lying in bed, he couldn't stop rewinding the movie in his mind. He kept noticing things retroactively—details that felt obvious now, but hadn't at the time. He opened his laptop, half-expecting to find some explanation online, some neat answer.
There wasn't one.
A few scattered forum posts. Some vague reviews. No consensus.
By morning, he'd made up his mind.
The next afternoon, Ethan called his friends.
Later that night, the three met outside that very theater, with Jake being quite skeptical and Luis busy scrolling through his phone checking showtimes for things other than that movie.
"Please tell me this isn't another one of those blind superhero movies," Jake asked.
"No," Ethan replied. "Just watch it."
As they were in the theater, Ethan felt like he needed to protect this moment for some reason, like he had found something so delicate that if it wasn't treated with care, it would be overlooked.
While they were watching the film, Ethan found himself paying more attention to Jake and Luis, instead of paying too much attention to the film.
When the film first started, Jake was the only one laughing, and his laugh was very soft (he did chuckle quite loudly when the bump scene hit).
Luis leaned over and whispered to him, "How's that for a convenient café moment?"
Again, Ethan did not respond.
However, once the film really started to get deeper, the laughing/whispering stopped, allowing for an absolute focus to be had by both Luis and Jake.
Luis's arms Crossed were crossed for a good while before uncrossing them.
Jake began leaning forward in his seat.
At this moment, Ethan was feeling a great deal of quiet satisfaction since he was aware his feeling of satisfaction was mirrored by Luis and Jake's. The film had done exactly what it had done to Ethan.
At the murder scene, Jake gasped in shock at something he was clearly not prepared for.
Luis muttered "What the hell" to himself at the end of climax. It was a mix-up of feelings, balanced with wonder at how things unfolded.
The credits rolled.
Jake stood up straight and said "Ok".
Luis looked at him blankly and said "Ok, that was an unexpected turn of events, ahha".
With that, they both began walking towards the entrance of the theatre.
As soon as they got outside, they were in the middle of a conversation.
"Was he blind or something?" Jake said.
Luis shook his head in disagreement. "No way! In the last scene, did you see how he kicked that can?"
"That could've been just a reaction," Jake countered.
"But it's also about the rabbit. Timing tells me it's too coincidental," Ethan added.
"And then there's the coincidence of the rabbit being in there and him moving in that way," Luis countered.
They stood in front of the arcade machines in the lobby and continued talking over each other.
"The doctor said..."
"But he said earlier when he was soaking wet he turned his head too quickly at the apartment scene..."
"Or maybe the director just wants you to think."
Ethan smiled to himself as he listened.
They did not agree.
Yet somehow, this is exactly what I think the director wanted to convey.
As they walked outside together, Jake checked his watch. "I would love to go see it again."
Luis agreed to Jake. "Definitely! There are things I for sure missed."
Ethan stood there with his back against the wall, both hands inside his pockets, with an overwhelming sense of pride for the movie that he had nothing to do with.
"See?" Ethan said, "That was the best suspense movie I have ever watched in years."
Jake gave him a somewhat sarcastic smile. "Don't get too far ahead of yourself."
As he said this, Jake retrieved his phone to look up show times for the film he just finished watching with Ethan and Luis.
By Sunday evening, Ethan had heard classmates at school talking about the film, not loudly, but in pairs and in the corners of their class rooms and hallways.
"Did you see the blind movie?"
"Haha yes! I am still thinking about it."
"Did he fake it?"
These conversations about the movie continued on in private between students, quietly and insistently.