Blind

Forsaken in a brand-new lovely apartment in Oslo, frail Ingrid is battling to come to terms with her mysterious genetic condition, after recently losing her eyesight in the prime of her life. Fearful of leaving the flat to venture out on her own, Ingrid slowly retracts into her elaborate fantasy bubble, on the verge of convincing herself that her architect husband is silently spying on her when she thinks she is alone. Suddenly, a faint tapping on the wall or an unfamiliar new sound are enough to blow out of proportion the blind authoress' paranoia--while at the same time--reality and imagination begin to blur. In the end, are Ingrid's stories fanning both her suspicions and her asexual anxiety, or is this what total blindness looks like?