Life seems to go by without regard for Michael Oher in the movie “The Blind Side.”
Oher, portrayed by actor Quinton Aaron, is passed from his broken family to different foster homes and through different schools with no one willing to accept responsibility for him. He has nothing — only some clothes, which he sneaks into other peoples’ dryers at the Laundromat. He has nobody except for his mother, who abuses drugs and runs from him. He also has some “friends” from his old neighborhood who, if he were not so delicate, might recruit him for something more sinister than football. It is only due to another man’s kindness, and to his athletic potential, that Michael is admitted to Wingate Christian School. The Christian school is a white-picket-fence kind of establishment, emphasis on the white. There he is left to toil in silence, to stare at his tests until class is over and then politely ask: “Can I go now?”
Go where? Nowhere in particular — the school gym, or back to the Laundromat, perhaps — until, on a rainy evening, he is spotted walking along the roadside by the Tuohy family. The Tuohys drive BMWs, wear designer sunglasses and live in a mansion on the “other side of town” from Michael’s neighborhood — all thanks to Mr. Tuohy’s success as both a college ball player and a fast-food tycoon. What would a family like this normally have to do with a huge, black drifter wandering the streets? It’s Leigh Ann (Sandra Bullock) who makes them turn the car around when she sees him. Is it her maternal instincts? Is it the “good Christian” in her? We’re not entirely sure, but that moment is the spark of the most endearing relationship in the film that is based rigidly in truth.
What starts as “you can stay for the night” slowly becomes much more for the Tuohys, and for Michael. Sean, the father, (Tim McGraw) is open to the idea of including Michael in the family, as is (eventually) their daughter, Collins. But it’s Leigh Ann, along with the youngest Tuohy, SJ (a particularly delightful Jae Head), that share the spotlight in forming the experiences and figures that Michael lost, or never had: a caring mother, a close brother and a childhood. We witness Michael’s transformation from a shell of a human being to a football star — one with people he can depend on for love and support throughout life.
If this all sounds like your typical inspirational, racially conscious football movie (a genre from which, I believe, we need a decade’s break), it isn’t — most of the time. No efforts are made to avoid certain clichés, like Leigh Anne’s cookie-cutter, rich, racist, housewife friends. Also, an uncomfortably random scene in a library where the Tuohy children reminisce about children’s books, and Michael sits watching, wistfully. (Why didn’t anyone read to him when he was a boy?) In addition, some characters are left underdeveloped, such as the father who seems slightly too agreeable. Michael’s tutor, who seemed to be quite important to the true story, is also an unfortunate toss-away. And the film fails to mention anything about this mysterious boy that the film is careful to repeatedly emphasize, back in Michael’s old stomping grounds. Why, at the film’s contemplative conclusion, do we still know nothing about him?
These make up part of a collection of qualms I had with “The Blind Side,” but I could not help but grin in spite of them. It is a simple film — it doesn’t contain many surprising elements — but it is joyous. It’s held together mainly by its actors, who are all at the top of their game. Bullock plays her role with admirable balance, never letting the occasionally faltering script get the better of her natural sharpness. Tim McGraw, weak though his character may be, is pitch-perfect as the amicable father. Our lead actor, Quinton Aaron, tackles his role with just the right emotional tone. Michael is damaged, and he is therefore quiet and distant — but the remains of a human soul shine through in subtle smiles and quick glances, which, in the end, paint a more complex picture of Oher than the dialogue could ever hope to do.
