A group of professional psychics advise their clients on-camera, while at other times the psychics bare their own souls to an interviewer seated off-camera. True believers may love this stuff, cynics may scoff at it, and the open-minded may at least be willing to give it a chance--an attitude that will no doubt be helped by the sheer drama and compelling nature of the stories themselves. One psychic reveals that she went into the business following the sudden death of her mother; another joined the ranks of "animal psychics" when, out of sorts and at a crossroads in her life, she read something about that aspect of the business and decided to give it a try. (The notion of communicating with pets--especially dead ones--might be the most hard-to-swallow part of the whole movie.) Many of the pros have been struggling to make a go of it in the arts--as actors, writers, or otherwise--they all seem to live in modest New York City apartments, and everybody, medium and client alike, has suffered abuse or experienced the death of a loved one or is burdened by dreams deferred. They're all alone and lonely, partner-free and quietly desperate. "Look Into My Eyes" is not for everyone, but if you think you might enjoy a talking heads documentary about a fringe profession that features seances and the like--not to mention the troubled folks who are grateful that the profession exists--it's most definitely the movie to see. Surprisingly absorbing and thoroughly watchable, even if you're a (moderate) cynic like me.
