"I step into a blue funk,'' British author and filmmaker Jarman writes early on in this screenplay of of his final--and award-winning--film, which deals with his gradual loss of sight due to complications from AIDS. As a movie, Blue was powerful, disturbing and experimental, devoid of visual images while presenting the voices of Jarman and several actors speaking over a blue screen for more than an hour. As a text, it offers a briefer, more personal and poignant experience. Jarman's writing hovers between poetry and prose, images and metaphors tumbling over one another: "My mind bright as a button but my body falling apart--a naked light bulb in a dark and ruined room.'' The author, who wrote previously about his illness in Modern Nature and At Your Own Risk , careens through a variety of topics, randomly etching whatever is on his mind, from Marco Polo, Czar Ivan, van Gogh and Sarajevo to many things blue: jeans, sky, water and delphiniums. More than just the record of an artist losing his sight, this is a look at how a man accepts his impending death with fear, hope, humor and understanding. "Blue is darkness made visible,'' writes Jarman, who died in February 1994 at the age of 52.