IN YOUR EYES. A Telepathic Bond Between Two People

In In your Eyes, Dylan meets a girl. Her name is Rebecca, she lives in another state, but their conversations go so well that they find time to talk every day, eventually prioritizing their connection above everything else. Dylan begins to neglect his job at the car wash—important to him, since being on parole makes it hard to find a source of income. Rebecca, meanwhile, drifts away from her husband, a wealthy director of the city hospital. Love at first sight? Perhaps—if not for the fact that this pair communicates… telepathically. Imagine this: your entire life, you’ve experienced unexplained mood swings. You have the feeling that the emotions you’re feeling aren’t your own, that they come from nowhere.

From time to time, you feel a sudden, almost physical jolt you can’t explain. And then, one day, you hear a voice in your head—clear as your own. No, you’re not crazy—the voice belongs to someone just as real as you, only in a completely different place, and, as it turns out, you can even see through that person’s eyes. Credit must go to Joss Whedon, the screenwriter, for coming up with this interesting premise to portray the bond between two people. From the very beginning, Dylan and Rebecca are closer to each other than anyone else in the world—they feel the same things, see the same things, and from the moment they establish direct contact, they are, in a way, constantly together. From there, their getting-to-know-each-other phase unfolds in a fairly conventional manner—confessions, exchanging opinions, discovering one another.

In this case, even retroactively, as the pair analyzes moments in life when they were living each other’s emotions. It brings them closer. The creator of Firefly and The Avengers doesn’t try to delve into the origin of this connection—it just happens; the impossible becomes possible.

Whedon focuses instead on the consequences of this bond and how it affects each of them individually. For Dylan, telepathic conversations with Rebecca are like a breath of fresh air in an otherwise stifling life, shaped by past mistakes and current hardships. Rebecca finally feels understood. A smile returns to her face—something that had been missing from her unhappy marriage. The script introduces some novel elements in this kind of story about emotional connection—such as the first time they see each other through one another’s eyes, reflected in a mirror—but overall, it doesn’t avoid certain tropes typical of such narratives.

The story strongly emphasizes how their connection impacts their interactions with the world around them. As mentioned earlier, as Dylan and Rebecca grow closer, they drift further from reality. Whedon portrays, both humorously and seriously, how they are perceived by others—friends witnessing them talking to themselves, smiling into the air, or dancing with someone invisible. On one hand, it’s good that this aspect is addressed. But it does raise the question: why doesn’t either of them, when in public, put on a pair of headphones so it at least looks like a phone conversation? The film doesn’t seem to be set in the past. It’s an odd oversight (without which some plotlines wouldn’t exist), and even if it is, say, set in the ’90s, that’s never really conveyed.

The overall execution is fairly “TV-like,” and the whole thing feels like an episode of a series. That’s not a huge flaw—the story doesn’t require outstanding visuals—but personally, I like to find at least one memorable, beautiful shot in a film.

I didn’t find one here. Instead of visual flair, the focus is heavily placed on the characters. And it’s them we spend most of the time observing. Michael Stahl-David is immensely likable—it’s hard not to root for his character. I’d only seen him before in Cloverfield, where he was also easy to support. Clearly, he’s a good pick for protagonist roles—he has a very “friendly” quality. On the other side, there’s Zoe Kazan, who, I’ve noticed, many people rave about. This was my first encounter with her as an actress.

I don’t want to judge her overall talent, but in this role, I found her rather irritating. It creates a strange imbalance when, out of the two leads, you’re really only rooting for one, even though they share the same priorities. Overall, the film feels quite “safe.” Aside from the original concept and a few ideas that stem from it, there are no real genre breakthroughs here. It’s a warm, pleasant story, but the concept begs to be explored in a different style—something a bit grittier, maybe more daring and clever.

There’s little subversion—the initial premise leads into a fairly classic love story between two people. No groundbreaking insights or emotionally shattering moments, but it holds up because it’s well-written, engaging, and in its own way, even moving. Despite everything, the initial idea does bring a breath of fresh air. If you’re tired of formulaic A-to-Z love stories and enjoy character-driven narratives, this film is worth checking out.