Carol

Longevity, expectations, accepting who people are as opposed to who you want them to be, appreciating it as they change independently, organically, rather than as a result of the imposition of deductive logic, stereotypes, roles, baby dolls, damsels in distress, it works for some I suppose, for intervals, at times, blunt force and supple misgivings, dialogues constructed, abbreviated, expanded upon, which examine how the masculine robotically initiates, how the feminine submissively emerges, I don't know many couples like this but I see them in movies and read about them in books, often, the man not in love with the woman herself but how she looks believing it's his duty to dogmatically define her, to make her his radiant reflection, consumed by his strength, obsessed with his aura, vice versa, which may work for a time, inspiring passion and humour fuelled by traditional adherences, admittances, basic conceptions of the natural, the good, the permanent, until predictability sets in, not many able to exist for another exclusively, whether husband, wife, servant, manager, or concubine, and as time shifts and moments fade the desire for individuality, for organizational renaissance, eclipses established power dynamics, and authoritative constructs engender prolonged disputes if love can't compensate, can't cooperate, endure.

Carol Aird's (Cate Blanchett) husband can't accept who she is, and, thoroughly versed in chivalry, can only truly love her if she innocently obeys.

Yields to his will.

About to travel down the same path, Therese Belivet (Rooney Mara) meets Carol one day at a department store, an electric fascination etherealizing their conversation, gloves forgotten encouraging future meetings, trips to the country, unheralded destinations.

Free love.

Carol gently explores and patiently navigates disparate domains to timidly yet vividly explore ecstasy in bloom, critiquing those who too rigidly seek consensus, while celebrating the joys inherent in true romance.

Refreshingly unobtrusive, it modestly presents the facts and gracefully frees from guilt the tender.

Without seeming like it's trying to do anything at all.

Sensitive sweetly flowing wisdom.

I usually don't take note of costume design, but there's a cool scene where Abby Gerhard's (Sarah Paulson) dress suavely matches the chair she's sitting on.

Struck me anyways.

Costume design by Sandy Powell.

Art decoration by Jesse Rosenthal.

I think you're supposed to revel in the power struggle.

I always thought that path led to the dark side.

In love, anyways.