Love is dangerous in Carol, director Todd Haynes' period romance between two women in New York City. That danger underscores every scene and it lessens and intensifies according to setting. At dinner in the city, conversation is relegated to looks and glances. On the open road and in hotels, the danger subsides and the truth can emerge from the darkness. But the danger is always there and Haynes transfers it to us.
Imagine the word "home" is a dirty word. That's life for Carol Aird (Cate Blanchett), who seeks a divorce from her controlling husband, Harge (Kyle Chandler) as Christmas approaches in 1948. They have a beautiful daughter and the Airds are rich, but family and money can't buy happiness.
Carol knows what she wants. A brief affair with her best friend, Abby (Sarah Paulson), is mentioned and it becomes obvious she's attracted to something she may never have. There's a sadness in Carol that belies her elegant beauty and breaks your heart. But then she meets Therese Belivet (Rooney Mara), a 19-year-old department store clerk she finds staring at her while shopping. Carol forgets or "forgets" her gloves on the counter and Therese ships them to her.
That act of kindness gives the women an excuse to meet for lunch, and thus begins a tentative love affair that evolves slower than evolution itself. They are strangers, friends, and eventually, lovers. And it takes so long because of that danger around them. It's societal, thanks to the Puritanical code against same sex relationships at the time, and it's personal, thanks to the men in both women's lives. Harge is a powerful guy judging from the wealth; and Carol belongs to him like anything else. And Therese is being pressured into marriage by her doting boyfriend, Richard Semco (Jake Lacy).
The importance of the love between Carol and Therese cannot be overstated. The danger they endure still persists today for gay couples of all genders. Carol is the kind of film that can change that. This movie breeds empathy. It values love above everything, even children, and, more than that, it values happiness. Haynes' film, which is based on Patricia Highsmith's novel The Price of Salt and adapted for the screen by Phyllis Nagy, wonders why something so personal is anyone else's business. It has the power to shame.
Carol also has the power to inspire, a direct result of the performances of Blanchett and Mara. They share this film equally. The camera follows each of them separately, although the story is seen through Therese's eyes. The film opens with the women at dinner when an unwelcome man interrupts. You can see everything happening behind their eyes. Carol excuses herself and Therese doesn't want her to go, but can't stop her in mixed company. Only when they're alone can they say what they are thinking. Blanchett gives Carol the weight of the world to shoulder. She becomes embroiled in a custody battle with Harge that nearly breaks her and the actress carries it wearily. Therese becomes her savior in a sense. And Mara, who has less baggage and more optimism as Therese, is thoroughly romantic. When she leaves Richard to take a road trip with Carol, you get the sense she knows what she wants, however short-sighted. The inexperienced way she does everything is true and endearing, from the way she smokes a cigarette to her immature fashion sense.
What Haynes brings to the film is sensory. He's touched on many of Carol's themes and styles in his previous work, and it all comes together expertly here. The movie carries the same Douglas Sirk feel as Far From Heaven, and the storytelling is circular and complete, like a Yasujirō Ozu film. You'll be transported as well. The art direction and costume design is "divine," as Carol would say. Haynes colors his title character in red near the beginning of the movie and she's impossible to ignore. Even her taupe-colored Packard looks like a work of art. The cinematography, by Edward Lachman, often keeps the audience on the outside looking in. Carol and Therese are seen through windows and lost in thought. The effect forces us to wonder what they're thinking. And to place ourselves there beside them.
If Carol has a weakness, it's in its depictions of men, who are one-dimensional, irrational, and arrogant. Save for the film's one big twist, nothing any of them does will surprise you. But this isn't a film about men. It's a film about love in an exploding incubator—how love can persist if you keep it warm, no matter the danger around it. Highsmith penned the source novel under a pseudonym in 1952 because of the subject matter. She was a young writer who worked as a sales clerk and once saw a beautiful woman in fur at her counter. At the time, a lesbian love story could have ended her career. Now, 60 years later, Todd Haynes has brought the woman in fur back to life, and she's more important than ever.
