“Then Carol slipped her arm under her neck, and all the length of their bodies touched fitting as if something had prearranged it. Happiness was like a green vine spreading through her, stretching fine tendrils, bearing flowers through her flesh. She had a vision of a pale white flower, shimmering as if seen in darkness, or through water. Why did people talk of heaven, she wondered.”
In the opening scene of Todd Haynes’ Carol (2015), Cate Blanchett’s eponymous character places a hand on the shoulder of Rooney Mara’s Therese as they apparently bid goodbye to one another. The narrative subsequently tracks back to the pair’s first meeting before following their relationship chronologically. When, just under two hours later, the action returns to that same moment in context, the electricity sparking from a tumult of passion, loss, restraint and resolve - conducted by that hand and shoulder - is almost overwhelming. (x)
