whenever Todd Haynes’ unspeakably stunning Patricia Highsmith variation comes to thoughts, it brings a number of the unconventional’s last words at the side of it: “it might be Carol, in one thousand cities, one thousand homes, in overseas lands wherein they might move collectively, in heaven and hell.” In that mild, a spot on a listing of the last decade’s fine movies hardly looks as if a lot of a attain.
Added to life by way of the cautious genius of Phyllis Nagy’s script, the supple glow of Ed Lachmann’s 16mm cinematography, and two of the most first-rate performances ever committed to celluloid (which isn’t to brush vintage Harge beneath the rug where he belongs), Haynes’ Carol is extra than just a bone-deep melodrama about a mutual infatuation at some point of a repressive time. It’s greater than a vessel for Carter Burwell’s swooning career-satisfactory score, or Sandy Powell’s seductive costumes, or the uncommon queer romance that gave its characters a happy ending — an ending that resonates thru Cate Blanchett’s coy smile with the blunt pressure of every impossible dream Carol Aird has ever had for herself. It’s more than simply an immaculate reaction to decades of “if simplest” dramas like David Lean’s “short encounter,” or a heartstopping collection of small gestures that builds into the single maximum cathartic remaining shot of the 21st century. It’s all of these things (and greater!), however maximum of all it’s an indivisibly pure distillation of what it looks like to fall in love on my own and land someplace together.