‘Look Into My Eyes’: Sundance Review

Dir: Lana Wilson. US. 2023. 105mins

In the sprawling, anonymous mass of New York City, it can be difficult to make any genuine connections. Here, filmmaker Lana Wilson follows a group of people looking to bridge an even bigger divide; that between the living and the dead. In observing a group of city psychics, Look Into My Eyes is a compassionate documentary that asks viewers to keep an open mind about this oft-debated subject, even if it offers no easy answers.

Asks viewers to keep an open mind 

Wilson previously played in Sundance competition with abortion documentary After Tiller, and has since directed the Taylor Swift documentary Miss Americana as well as Pretty Baby: Brooke Shields. She brings a similar steady hand to her latest work, which should generate interest following its Sundance premiere; most likely from streaming or broadcast platforms.

Understanding that many viewers will be sceptical about the psychic arts, Wilson keeps her approach measured. She is not trying to win anyone over, nor is she trying to debunk or poke fun at her seven psychic subjects (four women and three men from a mix of races and backgrounds). They are no strangers to the cynicism and stigma that accompanies their work but all come across as sincere, and seem to take seriously the potential influence they have over the vulnerable people who come seeking help.

Initially, the film acts as a silent observer as the psychics meet with clients in nondescript kitchens and offices devoid of any theatrical cliches. Wilson, too, does not use any dramatic flourishes; there is no music or flashy camerawork, just a calm and respectful focus as the psychics attempt to communicate with the other side. In a poignant opening scene, a trauma doctor asks psychic Nikenya to contact a 10-year-old gunshot victim that she was unable to save; looking for some end to the grief she has been carrying for 20 years. “Can you ask her if she’s ok,” is the simple request.

Working with her editor Hannah Buck, Wilson is careful to bring levity to the subject. Questions from clients range from ‘what will I do with my life?’ to ‘will I ever keep chickens?’. And it’s impossible not to find some humour in the work of animal psychic Pheobe, who communes with pets, both dead and alive, on behalf of their owners. One wants to know why her dog will not walk on a lead; another if his komodo dragon is happy with new owners.

Yet all clients — who include a young Asian American girl seeking answers about her birth parents and a young Black man struggling with the psychological burden of his family’s slave heritage — clearly find a great sense of relief in these readings. And, as Wilson follows the psychics to their homes and expertly guides them through candid interviews, it becomes clear that they, too, are getting much from their gift; healing from their own past traumas, a sense of belonging in a welcoming, empathetic community. 

Whether the psychics’ own complex histories bleed into their readings is a question Wilson leaves the viewer to answer for themselves. A moment in which frustrated artist Sherrie, whose parents were unable to support her ambition, speaks to a young man about forging his own path certainly feels like a link between past and present. So do the efforts of gay psychic Eugene, who never felt like he belonged in his Catholic family, to connect struggling young people with supportive spirit guides. While Wilson stays resolutely — and perhaps for some, frustratingly — neutral about whether that link is forged by lived experience or spiritual ability, her film can be read as a celebration of human empathy and the power of shared connection.