[Contains Spoilers]

The entire long first part of Carol, leading up to the night of passion between the two protagonists, might seem lacking in content. However, it is precisely in this narrative arc that Haynes constructs much of the film's beauty. The actresses are invaluable accomplices, but the director's eye works with wise precision, allowing the subtlest details to emerge and capture the viewer's attention. A hand resting on a shoulder a few seconds longer than usual, a curious glance, a gesture of shyness. All nuances of behavior are made evident with truly commendable clarity and grace. The gaze behind the camera is investigative yet always courteous, highly refined yet intimate. In these splendid moments of cinema, it seems almost possible to see the emotions vibrating in Carol’s or Therese’s soul.

The narrative structure is equally effective. By prolonging the slow approach phase of the two women, the viewer reaches the moment when passion between the two explodes, having almost taken a journey with them. This lends credibility to the flowering of love, which comes only after endless glances, gestures, words, gifts, caresses. Haynes makes the audience wait a lot and wins his bet from this point of view. The explicit sex sequence is singular and positions itself as a keystone of the film, like a diamond set in the heart of the entire film's architecture. It is a sequence of wonderful intensity, made even more effective by its subsequent juxtaposition with one of the most dramatic moments of the story, when Carol discovers that her husband was spying on her.

Consequently, the film's ending is a slow descent of tension, a folding in on itself but carries with it at least two precious moments. The one in which Carol admits before the judge that she deliberately engaged in a relationship with Therese, and the one where we witness for the second time the meeting between the two after months of distance. Haynes shows us the initial sequence again, but this time from a perspective internal to the story. This is a device to depict the difference between an exterior judgment, lacking empathy, and one that participates in the feelings of the two women. If in the first viewing the spectator remains indifferent (knowing nothing of the two), in the second the emotions are strong and bitter. This suggests that human beings are all empty containers if their emotional contents are not known.

This almost hidden little lesson pairs with the other "political" theme of the film: the absurd idea that having a homosexual relationship is immoral. Here too, the director does not dwell explicitly on the issue and avoids unnecessary preaching, given the obviousness of the matter today. The error of that society is too obvious to need explaining. It makes much more sense to then tell the evolutions of the characters: Carol, a strong-willed woman, experiences this love as an escape from her unhappy life. Therese, a girl who doesn’t know what she wants, turns this experience into a lesson to mature and become more self-assured. Once the adventure ends, it seems that Carol is left only with the unhappiness of a family in pieces, while doors to a bright career open up for Therese. The initial "No" from the young woman to Carol's proposal of living together seemed to close the story in this way; instead, the ending overturns Therese's decision, constituting a happy ending that is probably the film's only flaw. It risks making the audience forget the consequences of the sapphic love on Carol’s life, who will only be able to see her daughter on rare occasions.

For the rest, truly a harmonious work, delicate, perfect in every detail. Slightly dotted cinematography (better than that of the latest Spielberg), pastel colors from the 50s, natural yet always meaningful dialogues. Overall, the film is simple in its progression but often brings further meanings, emotional projections that go beyond the objectivity of events. In this sense, Haynes has created a feeling, an emotion that permeates the sequences: like a melancholy, a desire to find happiness. The feelings of Carol and Therese live in this emotionally fertile style.

Needless to say anything about Cate Blanchett; however, Rooney Mara in a role not quite suited to her is surprising. Her melancholy glances, her insecurities, her gestures are of rare beauty. The director gives her the space she deserves with many splendid close-ups.

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