Carol
Todd Haynes has become synonymous with period pieces centered on LGBT characters, primarily taking place in the 1950s. Perhaps this stems from the Douglas Sirk inspired “Far From Heaven,” or his work on the HBO miniseries “Mildred Pierce,” based on the forties film of the same name. Though his work is actually quite varied, “Carol” will forever cement him as the go-to for forbidden romance in the McCarthy period. Based on the bestselling novel by Patricia Highsmith (originally entitled “The Price of Salt”) “Carol” follows a relationship between a high class woman on the verge of ending her marriage and reigniting a former attraction, and a salesgirl, unsure of where her true feelings lie.
The film garnered six Academy Award nominations, the most relevant being the nominations for Blanchett and Mara for Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress. Blanchett is the most deserving of this distinction, as she effortlessly owns the screen from the first scene, through the last shot, a close-up of her big, red lipped smile. As the socialite, and future divorcee Carol, Blanchett is riveting as a woman who finds her strength as a woman, as a lesbian, and as a lady used to the finer things in life. Indifference or accusations of immorality only prove Carol right in her own mind. Such a powerful depiction of a lesbian, a role usually reserved for quiet, tenuous women hiding from a less than glamorous fate, is a big deal.
The dissent surrounding the Academy Awards this year was not only directed towards a lack of minority nominees. The film caused uproar concerning the lack of nominations for Best Picture and Best Director. To date, not a single queer centered narrative has won Best Picture. A ton of people have won acting awards, (including Tom Hanks in “Philadelphia,” and Hilary Swank in “Boys Don’t Cry”) but among the choices for Best Picture LGBT characters are not given credence compared to heteronormative narratives. This can be attributed to people’s perceptions that LGBT narratives are niche, or that they simply don’t bring in as much money as movies like “Argo” and “The Hurt Locker,” winners from 2012 and 2009.
This portrayal of lesbian women in the fifties, as not such survivors of hate and ignorance, but as strong, forward thinking innovators in the world of sexual politics, is world changing. Sarah Paulson as Blanchett’s former lover is a revolution, reading like a woman scorned but redeemed through her own intellectual and sexual prowess. Blanchett’s husband, played by Kyle Chandler, is a breed of man who seems amazingly tolerant of her past, and yet will use it against her if it means she is sexually devaluing him. Even in the emerging liberal scene of beatniks, a lack of sexual dominance puts him at a disadvantage, and with his manhood in a stranglehold he retaliates. This is an amazing film for a myriad of reasons, but the best reason of all is that it’s much more about the strength of women than their objectification. Love is important in this film, but just as important is the modern credo, “Be true to yourself, no matter what the price.”