Pallavi Paul’s The Blind Rabbit — a harrowing documentary mapping the oppressive nature of power in India — opens with an image of nothingness. The camera keeps moving forward creating an illusion of an impending destination. There is nothing in sight. The visuals are supplemented by Kedarnath Singh’s poem Bagh, which encloses the collective awe of people caused by a tiger.
That no one has seen the animal in full hardly dents its appeal. People are taken by its grandeur, seduced by its monstrosity. This is a curious arrangement but not entirely unfounded. During the course of the documentary, Pallavi argues that the animal — authoritative despite its invisibility — is a stand-in for power by proposing that the texture of both their allures is similar: created and sustained by terror.