In the grand scheme of things, times change so quickly. In June of this year, the Supreme Court ruled that same-sex marriage is now legal in all 50 states. Queer people still face battles large and small, but this particular victory in gay rights is a sword through the heart of hate. Love actually did win.
Todd Haynes' film Carol takes place in 1951-1952. That's 63 years ago. Not really all that long. Yet for gay men and women who lived during this time, it may as well have been centuries in the past. People who expressed same sex desire during this time could be sent to prison, locked away in mental institutions, lose their families and children, and worse. But gay people then, as now, were not monsters or criminals. They were just people. People lucky enough to be able to fall in love.
I remember reading letters to the editor in the newspaper about 10 years ago, when wars were being waged all over the country against gay marriage. It occurred to me that opponents of gay marriage have a way of referring to gay people--"gays", "those people", etc. And I had a youthful "aha" moment when I realized that the problem was that they didn't see gay people as people. This revelation is not exactly a shock when you consider the history of hate and violence--slaves were not seen as people, Jews were not seen as people, women were not considered people. And this ability for us to dehumanize one another is what leads to all the things in the world which we find so appalling. We all struggle with prejudice, but dehumanization takes fear and hate to the next level.
What Carol accomplishes so beautifully is portraying its lead characters as people first. Two women, one older, very wealthy, and self-knowing, the other younger, not as wealthy, and not as sure of herself, fall in love. And that love is portrayed so realistically: not as intense, fiery passion from word go, but almost calmly. As if it's just meant to be. As if it's the most natural thing in the world. When Carol (Cate Blanchett) asks Therese (Rooney Mara), a woman she only just met a few days ago, to visit her at her home and spend the day with her, Therese doesn't hesitate to say yes. When Carol later asks Therese to drive across the country with her during Christmastime, simply to get away from it all, Therese says yes again. I've only experienced love a few times in my life, but when I did, the saying yes was always easy. Why wouldn't I spend time with this person?
But because the time is 1952 and Carol is married (to a guy named "Harge", which is a real name apparently) and has a daughter, things can't be easy. Harge and Carol are divorcing. Harge knows that Carol likes women because she had an affair with a close friend of hers a few years before. When he sees her with Therese, he realizes that this his wife's interests are not a one-off. And so, he forces her hand by threatening to take full custody of their daughter Rindy (another actual name, apparently!).
But Carol is a film that uses hope, not tragedy, as its guiding light. Carol and Therese are threatened by societal forces they can't control, yet they are drawn to each other with an inevitable magnetism. I think of all the people throughout history who fell in love with people they weren't supposed to be with...and...were with them anyway, despite heavy consequences. And I am awed by that. The bravery it takes to be yourself. To be with people, whether friends or lovers, who you actually want to be with and share yourself with.
Carol is a delicate, finely crafted film that is...perhaps you could call it "feminine",in its attention to detail and intricacies. The costumes are sublime. The acting is subtle, yet on point. The soundtrack non-intrusive, yet present at the right moments. Carol is, undeniably, a work of art. But more than a work of art, it is a homage--not just to love between women, but to the love and honor and dignity of being yourself.
Grade: A+
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