卡罗尔

等不到电影，只好先拿小说来解渴。

原著是以作者Patricia Highsmith自己的故事为原型的，她在快30岁时，在纽约Bloomingdale's百货公司的玩具区遇见了一位已婚妇女，并爱上了她。

原著虽是第三人称，但基本是以Therese的视角写的，内心描写很丰富，用词很美，不算艰涩，读起来很流畅，很抓人，不忍释卷。
读的过程中不断带入Cate和Rooney，因此十分有画面感，完全被带入到故事之中，许多描写太细腻，太真实，跟着Therese一起忐忑，也跟着她一起迷醉在Carol的冷漠与温情之间，这些文字，慢慢地在我脑海中拍成电影。

原著中Therese是一个stage designer，但在改编剧本中变成了一个photographer，其实我觉得这样反而更易于表达她作为Carol的暗恋者的角度。
Rooney和Cate绝对是Therese和Carol的不二人选，这点你看了小说就会明白这次的选角有多么完美。

书我还在读，读了大半了，书摘会陆续更，每晚都又期待故事，又不忍读完它，到了该睡的时间还是不情愿放下，不断安慰自己说“好东西值得等待”，才心不甘情不愿地关灯睡下。

即使读原著知道故事的始末，依然不会“剧透”电影，因为我真正期待的不只是故事本身，而是Rooney和Cate的演绎，服装，场景，Todd Haynes怎么营造1950s纽约的复古模样，以及代入感十足的黑胶唱片老歌，而这些都是文字之外的全新创造。

总之，北美上映都要到12月18，有资源的时候估计已经是2016了，只能先来感受原著了。

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附上非官方的原声，听吧，你会沉醉的。
http://pan.baidu.com/s/1bnfMneB
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以下为书摘，按阅读先后顺序

"How do you like it pronounced? Therese?"
"Yes. The way you do," she answered. Carol pronounced her name the French way, Terez. She was used to a dozen variations, and sometimes she herself pronounced it differently. She liked the way Carol pronounced it, and she liked her lips saying it. An indefinite longing, that she had been only vaguely conscious of at times before, became now a recognizable wish. It was so absurd, so embarrassing a desire, that
Therese thrust it from her mind.
----

Therese was propped on one elbow. The milk was so hot, she could barely let her lip touch it at first. The tiny sips spread inside her mouth and released a melange of organic flavors. The milk seemed to taste of bone and blood, of warm flesh, or hair, saltless as chalk yet alive as a growing embryo.
----

"There's a train in about four minutes," Carol said.
 Therese blurted suddenly, "Will I see you again?"
 Carol only smiled at her, a little reproachfully, as the window between them rose up. "Au revoir," she said.
 Of course, of course, she would see her again, Therese thought. An idiotic question!
 The car backed fast and turned away into the darkness.
----

But there was not a moment when she did not see Carol in her mind, and all she saw, she seemed to see through Carol. That evening, the dark flat streets of New York, the tomorrow of work, the milk bottle dropped and broken in her sink, became unimportant. She flung herself on her-bed and drew a line with a pencil on a piece of paper. And another line, carefully, and another. A world was born around her, like a bright forest with a million shimmering leaves.
----

They stopped for a red light, and Carol rolled the window up. Carol looked at her, as if really seeing her for the first time that evening, and under her eyes that went from her face to her hands in her lap, Therese felt like a puppy Carol had bought at a roadside kennel, that Carol had just remembered was riding beside her.
----

Happiness was a little like flying, she thought, like being a kite. It depended on how much one let the string out.
----

       "Are you busy? If you are, I'll leave."
       "No. Sit down. I'm not doing anything—except reading a play."
       "What play?"
       "A play I have to do sets for." She realized suddenly she had never mentioned stage designing to Carol.
       "Sets for?"
       "Yes—I'm a stage designer." She took Carol's coat.
       Carol smiled astonishedly. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?" she asked quietly. "How many other rabbits are you going to pull out of your hat?"
----

And perhaps she was in love with Carol, too. It put Therese on guard with her. It created a tacit rivalry that gave her a curious exhilaration, a sense of certain superiority over Abby—emotions that Therese had never known before, never dared to dream of, emotions consequently revolutionary in themselves. So their lunching together in the restaurant became nearly as important as the meeting with Carol.

------
• Carol glanced at her. "You imagine," she said, and the pleasant vibration of her voice faded into silence again.
The page she had written last night, Therese thought, had nothing to do with this Carol, was not addressed to her. I feel I am in love with you, she had written, and it should be spring. I want the sun throbbing on my head like chords of music. I think of a sun like Beethoven, a wind like Debussy, and birdcalls like Stravinsky. But the tempo is all mine.
• As if she wouldn't turn down a job on a ballet set to go away with Carol—to go with her through country she had
never seen before, over rivers and mountains, not knowing where they would be when night came.
• Behind Carol, an airport searchlight made a pale sweep in the night, and disappeared. Carol's voice seemed to
linger in the darkness. In its richer, happier tone, Therese could hear the depths within her where she loved Rindy, deeper than she would probably ever love anyone else.
• It shook Therese in the profoundest part of her where no words were, no easy words like death or dying or killing. Those words were somehow future, and this was present. An inarticulate anxiety, a desire to know, know anything, for certain, had jammed itself in her throat so for a moment she felt she could hardly breathe. Do you think, do you think, it began. Do you think both of us will die violently someday, be suddenly shut off? But even that question wasn't definite
enough. Perhaps it was a statement after all: I don't want to die yet without knowing you. Do you feel the same way, Carol? She could have uttered the last question, but she could not have said all that went before it.
• "I suppose the first thing is not to be afraid." Therese turned and saw Carol's smile. "You're smiling because you think I am afraid, I suppose."
 "You're about as weak as this
match." Carol held it burning for a moment after she lighted her cigarette. "But given the right conditions, you could burn a house down, couldn't you?"
 "Or a city."
 "But you're even afraid to take a little trip with me. You're afraid because you think you haven't got enough money."
 "That's not it."
 "You've got some very strange values, Therese. I asked you to go with me, because it would give me pleasure to have you. I should think it'd be good for
you, too, and good for your work. But you've got to spoil it by a silly pride about money. Like that handbag you gave me. Out of all proportion. Why don't you take it back, if you need the money? I don't need the handbag. It gave you pleasure to give it to me, I suppose. It's the same thing, you see. Only I make sense and you don't." Carol walked by her and turned to her again, poised with one foot forward and her head up, the short blond hair as unobtrusive as a statue's hair. "Well, do you think it's funny?"
• Carol went into the green room, and stayed there while it played. Therese stood by the door of her room, listening, smiling.
 ... I'll never regret... the years I'm giving... They're easy to give, when you're in love... I'm happy to do whatever I do for you...
 That was her song. That was everything she felt about Carol.
• Was life, were human relations like this always, Therese wondered. Never solid ground underfoot. Always like gravel, a little yielding, noisy so the whole world could hear, so one always listened, too, for the loud, harsh step of the intruder's foot.
• Therese still felt the effects of what she had drunk, the tingling of the champagne that drew her painfully close to Carol. If she simply asked, she thought, Carol would let her sleep tonight in the same bed with her. She wanted more than that, to kiss her, to feel their bodies next to each other's. Therese thought of the two girls she had seen in the Palermo bar. They did that, she knew, and more. And would Carol suddenly thrust her away in disgust, if she merely wanted to hold her in her arms? And would whatever affection Carol now had for her vanish in that instant? A vision of Carol's cold rebuff swept her courage clean away. It crept back humbly in the question, couldn't she ask simply to sleep in the same bed with her?
• She rode up in an elevator and she was acutely conscious of Carol beside her, as if she dreamed a dream in which Carol was the subject and the only figure. In the room, she lifted her suitcase from the floor to a chair, unlatched it and left it, and stood by the writing table, watching Carol. As if her emotions had been in abeyance all the past hours, or days, they flooded her now as she watched Carol opening her suitcase, taking out, as she always did first, the leather kit that contained her toilet articles, dropping it onto the bed. She looked at Carol's hands, at the lock of hair that fell over the scarf tied around her head, at the scratch she had gotten days ago across the toe of her moccasin.
 "What're you standing there for?" Carol asked. "Get to bed, sleepyhead."
 "Carol, I love you."
 Carol straightened up. Therese stared at her with intense, sleepy eyes.
• Then Carol finished taking her pajamas from the suitcase and pulled the lid down. She came to Therese and put her hands on her shoulders. She squeezed her shoulders hard, as if she were exacting a promise from her, or perhaps searching her to see if what she had said were real. Then she kissed Therese on the lips, as if they had kissed a thousand times before.
 "Don't you know I love you?" Carol said.
• Then Therese set the container of milk on the floor and looked at Carol who was sleeping already, on her stomach, with one arm flung up as she always went to sleep. Therese pulled out the light. 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.
• "Go to sleep," Carol said.
 Therese hoped she would not. But when she felt Carol's hand move on her shoulder, she knew she had been asleep. It was dawn now. Carol's fingers tightened in her hair, Carol kissed her on the lips, and pleasure leaped in Therese again as if it were only a continuation of the moment when Carol had slipped her arm under her neck last night. I love you, Therese wanted to say again, and then the words were erased by the tingling and terrifying pleasure that spread in waves from Carol's lips over her neck, her shoulders, that rushed suddenly, the length of her body. Her arms were tight around Carol, and she was conscious of Carol and
nothing else, of Carol's hand that slid along her ribs, Carol's hair that brushed her bare breasts, and then her body too seemed to vanish in widening circles that leaped further and further, beyond where thought could follow. While a thousand memories and moments, words, the first darling, the second time Carol had met her at the store, a thousand memories of Carol's face, her voice, moments of anger and laughter flashed like the tail of a comet across her brain. And now it was pale-blue distance and space, an expanding space in which she took flight suddenly like a long arrow. The arrow seemed to cross an impossibly wide abyss with ease, seemed to arc on and on in space, and not quite to stop. Then she realized that she still clung to Carol, that she trembled violently, and the arrow was herself. She saw Carol's pale hair across her eyes, and now Carol's head was close against hers. And she did not have to ask if this were right, no one had to tell her, because this could not have been more right or perfect.
• "Go to sleep," Carol said.
 Therese hoped she would not. But when she felt Carol's hand move on her shoulder, she knew she had been asleep. It was dawn now. Carol's fingers tightened in her hair, Carol kissed her on the lips, and pleasure leaped in Therese again as if it were only a continuation of the moment when Carol had slipped her arm under her neck last night. I love you, Therese wanted to say again, and then the words were erased by the tingling and terrifying pleasure that spread in waves from Carol's lips over her neck, her shoulders, that rushed suddenly, the length of her body. Her arms were tight around Carol, and she was conscious of Carol and nothing else, of Carol's hand that slid along her ribs, Carol's hair that brushed her bare breasts, and then her body too seemed to vanish in widening circles that leaped further and further, beyond where thought could follow. While a thousand memories and moments, words, the first darling, the second time Carol had met her at the store, a thousand memories of Carol's face, her voice, moments of anger and laughter flashed like the tail of a comet across her brain. And now it was pale-blue distance and space, an expanding space in which she took flight suddenly like a long arrow. The arrow seemed to cross an impossibly wide abyss with ease, seemed to arc on and on in space, and not quite to stop. Then she realized that she still clung to Carol, that she trembled violently, and the arrow was herself. She saw Carol's pale hair across her eyes, and now Carol's head was close against hers. And she did not have to ask if this were right, no one had to tell her, because this could not have been more right or perfect. She held Carol tighter against her, and felt Carol's mouth on her own smiling mouth. Therese lay still, looking at her at Carol's face only inches away from her, the gray eyes calm as she had never seen them, as if they retained some of the space she had just emerged from. And it seemed strange that it was still Carol's face, with the freckles, the bending blond eyebrow that she knew, the mouth now as calm as her eyes, as Therese had seen it many times before.
• "My angel," Carol said. "Flung out of space."
 Therese looked up at the corners of the room that were much brighter now, at the bureau with the bulging front and the shield-shaped drawer pulls, at the frameless mirror with the beveled edge, at the green patterned curtains that hung straight at the windows, and the two gray tips of buildings that showed just above the sill. She would remember every detail of this room forever.
 "What town is this?" she asked.
 Carol laughed. "This? This is Waterloo." She reached for a cigarette.
 "Isn't that awful."
 Smiling, Therese raised up on her elbow. Carol put a cigarette between her lips. "There's a couple of Waterloos in every state," Therese said.
• Therese threw the newspapers on the bed and came to her. Carol seized her suddenly in her arms. They stood holding each other as if they would never separate. Therese shuddered, and there were tears in her eyes. It was hard to find words, locked in Carol's arms, closer than kissing.
 "Why did you wait so long?" Therese asked.
 "Because—I thought there wouldn't be a second time, that I wouldn't want it. But that's not true."
 Therese thought of Abby, and it was like a slim shaft of bitterness dropping between them. Carol released her.
 "And there was something else—to have you around reminding me, knowing you and knowing it would be so easy. I'm sorry. It wasn't fair to you."
 Therese set her teeth hard. She watched Carol walk slowly away across the room, watched the space widen, and remembered the first time she had seen her walk so slowly away in the department store, Therese had thought forever. Carol had loved Abby, too, and she reproached herself for it. As Carol would one day for loving her, Therese wondered? Therese understood now why the December and January weeks had been made up of anger and indecision, reprimands alternating with indulgences. But she understood now that whatever Carol said in words, there were no barriers and no indecisions now. There was no Abby, either, after this morning, whatever had happened between Carol and Abby before.
• "You've made me so happy ever since I've known you,"
Therese said.
 "I don't think you can judge."
 "I can judge this morning."
 Carol did not answer. Only the rasp of the door lock answered her. Carol had locked the door and they were alone. Therese came toward her, straight into her arms.
 "I love you," Therese said, just to hear the words. "I love you, I love you."
• She looked at Therese, and at last Therese saw a smile rising slowly in her eyes, bringing Carol with it. "I
mean responsibilities in the world that other people live in and that might not be yours. Just now it isn't, and that's why in New York I was exactly the wrong person for you to know—because I indulge you and keep you from growing up."
 "Why don't you stop?"
 "I'll try. The trouble is, I like to indulge you."
 "You're exactly the right person for me to know," Therese said.
 "Am I?"
 On the street, Therese said, "I don't suppose Harge would like it if he knew we were away on a trip, either, would he?"
 "He's not going to know about it."
 "Do you still want to go to Washington?"
 "Absolutely, if you've got the time. Can you stay away all of February?"
 Therese nodded.
• "Do you mean that about not writing to him? That's your decision?" Carol asked.
• "Yes."
 Therese watched Carol knock the water out of her toothbrush, and turn from the basin, blotting her face with a towel. Nothing about Richard mattered so much to her as the way Carol blotted her face with a towel.
 "Let's say no more," Carol said.
 She knew Carol would say no more. She knew Carol had been pushing her toward him, until this moment. Now it seemed it might all have been for this moment as Carol turned and walked toward her and her heart took a giant's step forward.
• It was an evening Therese would never forget, and unlike most such evenings, this one registered as unforgettable while it still lived. It was a matter of the bag of popcorn they shared, the circus, and the kiss Carol gave her back of some booth in the performers' tent. It was a matter of that particular enchantment that came from Carol—though Carol took their good times so for granted—seemed to work on all the world around them, a matter of everything going perfectly, without disappointments or hitches, going just as they wished it to.
• "What's going to happen when we get back to New York? It can't be the same, can it?"
 "Yes," Carol said. "Till you get tired of me."
 Therese laughed. She heard the soft snap of Carol's scarf end in the wind.
 "We might not be living together, but it'll be the same."
 They couldn't live together with Rindy, Therese knew. It was useless to dream of it. But it was more than enough that Carol promised in words it would be the same.
• Carol picked up her wine glass and said, "Chateau Neuf-du-Pape in Nebraska. What'll we drink to?"
 "Us."
 It was something like the morning in Waterloo, Therese thought, a time too absolute and flawless to seem real, though it was real, not merely props in a play—their brandy glasses on the mantel, the row of deers' horns above, Carol's cigarette lighter, the fire itself. But at moments she felt like an actor, remembered only now and then her identity with a sense of surprise, as if she had been playing in these last days the part of someone else, someone
fabulously and excessively lucky. She looked up at the fir branches fixed in the rafters, at the man and woman talking inaudibly together at a table against the wall, at the man alone at his table, smoking his cigarette slowly. She thought of the man sitting with the newspaper in the hotel in Waterloo. Didn't he have the same colorless eyes and the long creases on either side of his mouth? Or was it only that this moment of consciousness was so much the same as that other moment?
 They spent the night in Lusk, ninety miles away.
• Carol wanted her with her, and whatever happened they would meet it without running. How was it possible to be afraid and in love, Therese thought. The two things did not go together.
How was it possible to be afraid, when the two of them grew stronger together every day? And every night. Every night was different, and every morning. Together they possessed a miracle.
• But there were other days when they drove out into the mountains alone, taking any road they saw. Once they came upon a little town they liked and spent the night there, without pajamas or toothbrushes, without past or future, and the night became another of those islands in time, suspended somewhere in the heart or in the memory, intact and absolute.
• Carol went into the bathroom arid turned on the shower.
 Therese came in after her. "I thought I was using this John."
 "I'm using it, but I'll let you come in."
 "Oh, thanks." Therese took off her robe as Carol did.
 "Well?" Carol said.
 "Well?" Therese stepped under the shower.
 "Of all the nerve." Carol got under it, too, and twisted Therese's arm behind her, but Therese only giggled.
 Therese wanted to embrace her, kiss her, but her free arm reached out convulsively and dragged Carol's head
against her, under the stream of water, and there was the horrible sound of a foot slipping.
 "Stop it, we'll fall!" Carol shouted. "For Christ's sake, can't two people take a shower in peace?"
• Carol wanted to know everything she had done, how the roads were, and whether she had on the yellow pajamas or the blue ones. "I'll have a hard time getting to sleep tonight without you."
 "Yes." Immediately, out of nowhere, Therese felt tears pressing behind her eyes.
 "Can't you say anything but yes?"
 "I love you.
• "Carol does?" Dutch said, turning to her as he polished a lass.
 Then a strange resentment rose in Therese because he had said her name, and she made a resolution not to speak of Carol again at all, not to anyone in the city.
• She wrote to Carol late that night.
 The news is wonderful. I celebrated with a single daiquiri at the Warrior. Not that I am conservative, but did you know that one drink has the kick of three when you are alone?... I love this town because it all reminds me of you. I know you don't like it any more than any other town, but that isn't the point. I mean you are here as much as I can bear you to be, not being here...
• In the library, she looked at books with photographs of Europe in
them, marble fountains in Sicily, ruins of Greece in sunlight, and she wondered if she and Carol would really ever go there. There was still so much they had not done. There was the first voyage across the Atlantic. There were simply the mornings, mornings anywhere, when she could lift her head from a pillow and see Carol's face, and know that the day was theirs and that nothing would separate them.
• They were happy weeks—you knew it more than I did. Though all we have known is only a beginning. I meant to try to tell you in this letter that you don't even know the rest and perhaps you never will and are not supposed to—meaning destined to. We never fought, never came back knowing there was nothing else we wanted in heaven or hell but to be together. Did you ever care for me that much, I don't know. But that is all part of it and all we have known is only a beginning. And it has been such a short time.
• You say you love me however I am and when I curse. I say I love you always, the person you are and the person you will become. I would say it in a court if it would mean anything to those people or possibly change anything, because those are not the words I am afraid of.
• And she remembered Carol saying, I like to see you walking. When I see you from a distance, I feel you're walking on the palm of my hand and you're about five inches high. She could hear Carol's soft voice under the babble of the wind, and she grew tense, with bitterness and fear. She walked faster, ran a few steps, as if she could run out of that morass of love and hate and resentment in which her mind suddenly floundered.
• Something Carol had said once came suddenly to her mind: every adult has secrets. Said as casually as Carol said everything, stamped as indelibly in her brain as the address she had written on the sales slip in Frankenberg's. She had an impulse to tell Dannie the rest, about the picture in the library, the picture in
the school. And about the Carol who was not a picture, but a woman with a child and a husband, with freckles on her hands and a habit of cursing, of growing melancholy at unexpected moments, with a bad habit of indulging her will. A woman who had endured much more in New York than she had in South Dakota. She looked at Dannie's eyes, at his chin with the faint cleft. She knew that up to now she had been under a spell that prevented her from seeing anyone in the world but Carol.
• Once that had been impossible, and had been what she wanted most in the world. To live with her and share everything with her, summer and winter, to walk and read together, to travel together. And she remembered the days of resenting Carol, when she had imagined Carol asking her this, and herself answering no.
 "Would you?" Carol looked at her.
 Therese felt she balanced on a thin edge. The resentment was gone now.
 Nothing but the decision remained now, a thin line suspended in the air, with nothing on either side to push her or pull her. But on the one side, Carol, and on the other an empty question mark. On the one side, Carol, and it would be different now, because they were both different. It would be a world as unknown as the world just past had been when she first entered it. Only now, there were no obstacles. Therese thought of Carol's perfume that today meant nothing. A blank to be filled in, Carol would say.
• The lights were not bright, and she did not see her at first, half hidden in the shadow against the far wall, facing her. Nor did Carol see her. A man sat opposite her, Therese did not know who. Carol raised her hand slowly and brushed her hair back, once on either side, and Therese smiled because the gesture was Carol, and it was Carol she loved and would always love. Oh, in a different way now, because she was a different person, and it was like meeting Carol all over again, but it was still Carol and no one else. It would be Carol, in a thousand cities, a thousand houses, in foreign lands where they would go together, in heaven and in hell. Therese waited. Then as she was
about to go to her Carol saw her, seemed to stare at her incredulously a moment while Therese watched the slow smile growing, before her arm lifted suddenly, her hand waved a quick, eager greeting that Therese had never seen before. Therese walked toward her.
 
The End



-----已读完-------

又名：如果你在喜欢的人面前装过逼，你就会懂得carol的眼神

主创们说，这是一部跨越了性别、年龄和阶级的爱情电影。
迷妹们说，这是一部大魔王撩完直女撩弯男的电影，耳朵会怀孕。
爱过的人说，如果你也在19岁的年纪那样爱过一个人，你就会懂Theresa看Carol的眼神。这是最美的爱情电影。

有个害羞闷骚的朋友，在撸完Carol后半夜出线在微信群，用生无可恋的声音说：”carol~真的~好~好~看~啊，我哭了一个小时。”末了还加了一句：”我觉得鲁尼奥斯卡影后拿到了”
我们调侃道：所以你爱过。

实在忍不住对鲁尼痴汉眼神和凯特撩妹传说的好奇，终于去撸了DVD版。结果证明我并未爱过，所以没能泪目一个小时。但是这仍然是一个很美的作品。由于并没有那么幸运深爱过一个人没法对Theresa产生深刻的情感共鸣，但忍不住想要从细处说说Carol这个角色。

关于撩妹
陆续看到评论说，凯特在片中，很用力的撩妹，甚至有点过于强势了。结果看到成片反而让我有点失望。因为我已经被大魔王撩了很多年，carol这个角色并不显得更高阶。这次如此突出，重点可能并不在于撩的功力，而在于撩的对象，是个妹而已。

这是一部跨越性别、年龄和阶级的电影。
年龄和阶级，或许才是Carol如此”撩人”和强势的原因。年龄和阶级在Carol身上如何刻画体现的呢？

以感谢的名义，假装正经非常客气的邀请Therese共进午餐；订了Theresa工作附近的餐厅，可以不看菜单点餐。与之对照的是Theresa并不知道这家附近的餐厅，点餐也是完全复制Carol的选择。
这些细节还包括，在情绪崩溃之后，带上墨镜神情自若的步入阳光，放佛心情和白花花的冬日阳光一样慵懒平静；在发出同居邀请的时候，非常自然的说出，也许你已经不愿意；在说了I love u之后，并不强求一个回应，而是礼貌的将Therese交给突然打断对话的男士，并希望他们晚上玩的愉快，哪怕carol其实希望晚上Therese去找自己；在Therese犹疑动摇，意识到carol要走，急切的问出”are you sure”之后，还礼貌得体的表示，自己晚餐前还要打几个电话，立刻起身走人。
当然也包括，在最为人赞叹的最后一场戏，一眼万年。随着Theresa的目光，我们可以看到Carol仍然魅力十足，她让然会微微歪头，颔首，微笑，指尖优雅的夹着香烟——哪怕对面并不是坐的Theresa。
相对于大家调侃的大魔王心机颇深，吃定小白兔，我更愿意将carol的行为归为她的年龄阅历和社会阶层。Carol的行为，很大程度来自于长期的社交法则。

哪怕是到了今天，在稍微正式的社交场合，也有无数像carol一样的人在有意无意散发这样的撩人信号，说到底，让别人被自己吸引，产生好感，就是社交的目的，不是吗？
所以，越是成熟和所谓有身份的人，越charming。这不也是Therese会对carol产生crush的原因之一么？

当然，在众人中，Theresa是特别和不同的。
不知道有没有人注意到，在Carol和Therese第一次午餐的时候，carol的body language：在询问对方是否愿意去自己家做客的时候，carol的头微微摆动，手指夹着烟在晃动，眼神漂移，直到问完等待答案的时候，才抬起眼睛看向Theresa

这是单纯的撩么？不，这更像是标准的”若无其事云淡风轻的邀请一个人其实内心很忐忑。”
如果你在喜欢的人面前装过X，那你一定能懂此时的Carol。

Carol和Theresa这段关系的可贵，并不止步于跨越了年龄和阶级的心动。

我并没有看原著，听看过的小伙伴说，原著里carol的丈夫是个控制狂。虽然电影里着墨不多，但是也可以看出哈吉的控制欲。在取得carol认可前提前安排好了需要carol参加的家宴，以女儿为筹码绑架carol进行家庭旅行，以女儿为筹码要求carol维持婚姻；雇私家侦探跟踪carol和Theresa。

而carol呢，她是一个自我意识非常强烈的人。她对Abby自责自己影响carol争夺抚养权的时候说，don’t you dare，她在Theresa不确信自己目标的时候说：是否有天赋是别人说了算，我们可以做的只是不断去努力；在Theresa自责的时候说：这不是你的错；在和丈夫撕破脸的时候说，我曾经为了和女儿在一起，把她关在房间里，然而我发现这对她并无益处。如果我都不能过自己想要的生活，我不知道还能给她什么。

抛却Abby和Theresa，carol和丈夫的婚姻也必然悲剧。因为这个男人虽然爱carol，却控制欲非常强，对形式的执着远大于心灵的契合。
与其说，carol在女儿和Theresa之间选择了Theresa，还不如说，她选择了忠于自己。在对丈夫进行最后的谈判时，她选的是自己想要的生活，并不是说，选择Theresa。
也因为carol是一个自主意识非常强的人。所以她鼓励Theresa追求自己的目标，圣诞礼物是相机而不是小火车，为Theresa自信路过的背影而震动，为Theresa离开她后的成熟而欣喜。

非常认同一种说法，Carol其实是Theresa将来想要成为的样子，代表了Theresa对自己期望的投射。在Carol和Theresa的这段关系里，Carol选择了忠于自己，而Theresa走向了成熟。这难道不是远比『我不管我爱你你爱我我们相爱就是全世界』更令人振奋吗？

据看原著的小伙伴说，原著里通篇是Theresa的脑洞，对Carol其实很少具体描述。是什么人担得起Theresa如此的迷恋呢？
主创给了答案，这不仅是一个漂亮有钱的中年女人。她有主见，体贴，Hold住一切，懂得尊重，爱人，也有自己的骄傲。当她想要爱，并不乞求，而是正式的发出邀请，然而同时考虑到拒绝的可能性，并不理所当然的强迫对方服从，也不以自我为中心（丈夫哈吉）。如果你来了，是因为你对我的爱，而不是因为我强求。
可以说，电影里的Carol，投射了以妇女之友托德海因斯为代表的主创们对理想女性的一切寄托。

这个世界上，幸运的人做过Theresa，少数人成为了Carol。而谁又不想要Carol呢？

《卡罗尔》无疑是我今年看过的最美的电影。电影摄影的每一帧都如此考究细腻：倒影的车窗，相机的胶片，人物的每一个表情，都细致入微。开场的长镜头，伴随着一个男子穿过纽约街巷，把我带到了Therese和Carol重逢的桌前。两人欲说还休，正经历着最难的抉择，却被这个陌生男人冒昧打断。Therese随之搭车离开，车窗上倒映着Therese的脸以及纽约的夜色和灯火，回忆从此缓缓展开。

在电影如诗般的语言中，《卡罗尔》的故事娓娓道来。Todd Haynes的导演才华再一次在《卡罗尔》中得到体现，他似乎总能对女性的感情有着精准的捕捉，从《远离天堂》里Cathy Whitaker(Julianne Moore饰)和黑人园丁的跨阶级的爱情，到《幻世浮生》里Mildred Pierce(Kate Winslet饰)和女儿情人之间的伦理悲剧，Todd Haynes的叙事和选角都让人惊叹。《卡罗尔》的美，不仅体现在摄影的复古优美，配乐的切合动人，叙事的流畅自如上，更重要的是两位女主的选择。Cate Blanchett的女王气质贴合Carol的优雅和自信，她穿着毛皮大衣，身上散发着令人着迷的香水气息（Cate也在代言阿玛尼的香水），从容的微卷的金发和原著《盐的代价》中的描述几乎一模一样。电影中Cate饰演的Carol在和丈夫在调解庭内的一幕戏，让人对Cate的演技再次膜拜。她在短短两分钟内爆发出的退让的恳求、逞强的尊严以及同归于尽的威胁，瞬间为她争取了今年年底各种大奖的提名：别忘了她刚借《蓝色茉莉》拿到奥斯卡影后。而Rooney Mara一点也不输给Cate，她把一个19岁的年轻忐忑，情窦初开，既慌乱又勇敢的Therese演活了。《盐的代价》里故事的叙述都是靠Therese第三人称的视角完成的，所以Therese的感情变化其实是撑起剧情起承转合的主线。Rooney做到了，从Therese第一眼在Frankenberg百货看到Carol起的一见倾心，到之后她为爱情沉醉痴迷又为突变惊愕慌乱，以及最终她追逐梦想终在Times任职时像鲜花一样绽放美丽，她的表演如此真实，无不向观众证明她的戛纳获奖实至名归。她或许会是明年奥斯卡最有力的获奖冲击者。

电影《卡罗尔》对原著《盐的代价》有少许改编，电影很巧妙地将原著中Therese的爱好从舞台设计改成摄影，无疑对Therese对Carol的暗恋般的心情有更好地体现。而在Frankenberg初遇的那双“遗落”的手套，相对原著中Therese直接寄上贺卡问候，显得更顺理成章，算是一个神来之笔吧。

电影中我记忆最深的一句台词是Carol初次约Therese出来，对她说的一句话，她说：What a strange girl you are, flung out of space. 你真是一个奇怪的女孩，像是个天外来客。这句话很难直译，仿佛Carol在说Therese像是个外星人，又或指Therese经常思维飘忽神游物外的特质。之后Carol和Therese公路旅行，在她们的一场性爱戏中，Carol又对Therese说，My angel, flung out of space. 你像是从宇宙中飞来的我的天使。我觉得，这应该是全片中Carol除了“I love you”之外，最发自内心的表白。

在Indiewire对导演Todd Haynes和两位女主的采访中Cate说道，我深深记得那句台词，电影试图展现那个时代女人之间的距离，这距离就像是男人们主宰着的运行轨道之间的时空，她（Therese）缺少和人的联系，时而错过一些人，当她终于和Carol相遇，她们都会觉得不可思议。

Todd则说，正如Cate所说，这宇宙指的是未知的恋爱的概率，你身处其中却全然不知是否对方也和你有一样的感觉，这应该是对“flung out of space"的最好的定义：你对你想了解的人的无法预知。这也恰好是两个主人公性格中无法预测的部分。

我很庆幸Haynes拍了这部电影，因为《盐的代价》作为一本女同性恋作家写的女同性恋文学作品，应该交由一个有把握完成她的人来拍，这才不枉作者Patricia Highsmith在书出版后40年后才承认创作。和《天才雷普利》 以及《火车怪客》的惊悚相比，《盐的代价》更需要的是勇敢，一份敢于追求真爱的勇气。在两年前《阿黛尔的生活》大放异彩之后，这部《卡罗尔》虽少了令人咋舌的真实的性爱，少了轰轰烈烈敢爱敢恨的现代爱情，却多了彼时生活在“同性恋矫正”高压下人们追求真爱的勇气，虽不完美，却格外精美。倘若她能在这半个多世纪过后，这“同志仍需努力”的，同志群体依然需要争取平等的今天，为大家带来一些勇气，或者哪怕只是让大家更多的了解到女同这个群体，或者更而甚之，只是让人们看到爱情的不同的可能性，我们都应该满足。谁也不能预知谁会是你宇宙中的下一个天使，跟随内心或许才是找到出路的唯一途径。

只因心中有对方，黑夜无需再漫长。总有一天，你会在宇宙洪荒和滚滚红尘中驻足凝眸，转身看见你的天使。她眉眼弯弯，言笑晏晏，似乎看穿了命运和羁绊，只为了这一刹那的相逢。唯有星辰不负夜，愿你遇见，你生命中的温柔。


据说写影评的人好多都有相似的经历：http://www.douban.com/note/127456246/

    两周前在纽约电影节看的这部片子，当时看完趁导演和主演还没走出来问答的空当儿，上豆瓣打了五星。虽然刚看完感觉片子并没有像预期中的那样成为一部“了不起的杰作”，但有托德海因斯的稳定发挥，从故事完整性，节奏的把控，画面的精美程度，演员表演等各个方面来看，都是一部完成度极高，几乎挑不出毛病来的作品。

    然而刚看完以后那种压抑又兴奋，掺杂着感动的情绪并没有持续太久，取而代之的是一种失落感，失落的是这样一部令人期待的题材和电影，仍走不出以往同性爱情电影中话题与共鸣之间无法平衡的怪圈：如果不是因为同性，她们的爱情故事未免流于俗套，而过分强调同性，又削弱了主角之间感情的纯粹与真诚。也许在这类影片中寻找“深刻的社会属性”本身就是一种过度诠释，但不可否认的是，类似的同性题材在近些年的电影节当中可谓赚足了眼球。一方面利用同性题材的敏感性先入为主的抬高立意，一方面却对同性恋在社会中所受到的阻力避而不谈，这绝不是创作者的本意。说到底，可能因为敏感的并不是同性题材，而是我们观众自己。

    故事背景在托德·海因斯擅长的五六十年代，低饱和的红绿色调，大萧条后的纽约街头，圣诞之前的寒冷天气，无一不营造了一种绝望的氛围，仿佛在这种绝望之中任何人与任何人相爱都是顺理成章。片头使用倒叙，先插补了一段结尾时两人分手又重逢的感情戏，加以铺垫，一边钓足了观众的胃口，一边在结构上弥补了两个人相爱时的前戏不足。特芮丝先于卡罗尔出场，交代了她商店营业员的职业和圣诞节前夕的时间背景，然后就是主角卡罗尔出场了，一个不知道该给自己的孩子买什么礼物的贵妇。这一段的可贵之处在于在某种程度上打破了同性题材中必须“一攻一受”的思维模式，虽然卡罗尔穿着奢华的貂皮大衣，而特芮丝只是个营业员，但此时需要帮助的是前者。她试图在商店里点烟而被制止的尴尬，不知道买什么礼物给孩子时的手足无措，无疑使她在这时处于相对的弱势，即使从她的眼神中我们感到，这有可能是她把妹的一种惯用手段。短暂的相识使得主动权来到了特芮丝手中，似乎在这场游戏中她不是卡罗尔的猎物，而是一个她想接近却又不敢试探的对象。那对遗留在柜台上的手套到底是卡罗尔的诱饵，还是特芮丝主动出击的猎枪，都是值得玩味的小细节。

    虽然俩人好得很快，但胜在点滴入微，从家宴到送相机，从旅行到上床，水到渠成。丈夫（前夫）作为两人爱情的主要破坏者可能是一些人认为影片不够激进的原因之一，因为这个角色主要是一个受害者的形象，甚至可以说是一个可怜的人。但正是这种不左不右的态度使得这部片子没有过分强调性别意识和同性恋在社会舆论中的地位，而是把重心放在了两人的感情本身上，这种处理方式比同样题材尖锐的《远离天堂》显得还要高明一些。试想一下，如果一开始就在两人亲密出游时补一些男人们议论纷纷的镜头，或者借男人之口对特芮丝的冷淡加以点评，那么无疑把对两性意识形态的描写提上去了，但品位一下就low了，变成了另一种自以为是的“政治正确癌”，不好。但正是这种在两性题材上非常克制的把控，使得影片的高潮显得不够刺激和煽动（当然，如果把床戏当做高潮的话那就够了）。丈夫雇佣的私家侦探录下了两人的性爱音频，这本是一桩现在看来都非常严重的侵犯，但这么做的目的不是扳倒卡罗尔的社会地位，毁掉她的人生前途，而是为了在离婚诉讼中抢夺孩子的抚养权。虽然同样作为一个母亲我非常理解丧失抚养权对这个角色的意义，但是放到通篇中看，仅仅把离婚诉讼作为戏剧冲突中最大的“障碍”使得这一段的情绪爆发显得有些张力不足。

    判断同性之爱在主题中是否重要的一个简单方法就是问一个问题：如果把特芮丝的角色换成男性，那个故事成立吗？答案是不仅成立，而且异常合理。但故事就变成了一桩我们熟悉的婚外情始末，一则单纯的爱情小品。

    另外补充就是卡罗尔的闺蜜这个角色，前史过多，交代不清，作为情节的润滑剂很好使，台词帮助镜头丰满了卡罗尔这个人物，但是过于分散注意力，我觉得反而是删掉比较好。

    开头和结尾的重逢段落是我非常喜欢的，文学性很强，凯特和鲁尼表演也是教科书般的走心，与这一段相似的是《相见恨晚》中的车站离别，不知海因斯是否有致敬的意思。同样是千言万语化作几句寒暄，同样是一个聒噪的第三者打破气氛，经过前面的铺垫，最后临别时肩头的一按，力量比一个吻还要重。结尾时特芮丝寻找卡罗尔的段落是一个比较好的情绪出口，避免了被打断的对话而带来的不安感，“众里寻她千百度”，最后找到了，啪，停。干净利落，不说废话。

    最后总结就是，我个人认为，整部影片的叙事镜头表演都拿捏得恰到好处，简洁，克制，不留余地，也没有在题材上故弄玄虚，自命不凡，但是“同性”作为主题的核心基本没有体现出来，是一部比较纯粹的爱情电影。

毫无疑问，《卡罗尔》在视觉上有出众的细腻美感。影片的摄影风格节制，冷静，有着极强的艺术性，仿佛每一帧都可以被定格为精致优雅的画报。相较之下，《卡罗尔》的剧情似乎偏弱，被许多人评价为格局小，新意少，只是专注的讲述了一段隐秘深刻的爱情，而无更多对社会的注解与批判。

然而我认为，《卡罗尔》的格局并不小，它对政治和社会的批判只是没有在剧情大纲里直接表现出来而已。

实际上，电影的美学形式和内涵并不应该被泾渭分明的区分开来。《卡罗尔》对“大格局”的野心，恰恰体现在一些电影构图的小细节里：镜头下那些看似空洞的精致布景，可能蕴藏着丰富的象征，使电影表达的内涵远不限于剧本故事本身。而这其实才是电影有别于文学的独特魅力。

比如，《卡罗尔》中常出现一个有趣的取景角度：镜头常常是透过玻璃窗望向迷蒙的人物或城市街道的。那么这时常隔在视线中的玻璃窗应该被怎样解读呢？


1. 女性的困境

《卡罗尔》中的确没有激进的政治宣言，也没有热血的抗争，有的只是两位女主角之间静水深流的爱。然而，即使没有露骨地政治性批判，影片许多小细节都微妙地暗示了50年代美国女性的“不自由”。

鲁尼·马拉所饰演的百货公司售货员特芮丝在初见凯特所饰演的富裕家庭主妇卡罗尔时，调笑地说着，我很乐意带你去看我爱的火车模型，但现在我只能被困在这个洋娃娃专柜后。

当卡罗尔为了与女儿相见，只能同丈夫的家人一起用餐，她不断辩解着自己见的是心理理疗师而非医生。似乎在用一种间接隐晦但又毫无退让的方式坚持着自己的同性爱倾向并不是疾病。而极为讽刺的细节是，此时餐桌旁的电视里，某位名人正激昂地演讲着“自由”的美利坚所拥有的那个“自由”的未来。

50年代的美国女性已经拥有了选举投票权。但发生在60年代的，致力于解救中产阶级女性于家庭主妇命运的第二波女权主义，还远没有席卷美国。而一直要到80年代，女同性恋的权益才被纳入女权主义的讨论范围内。这些在法律上已拥有选举权的女性，看似已经身处在一个自由而平等的社会，然而卡罗尔显然并不“自由”。尤其当法律指认她的同性爱是道德问题，并剥夺她见女儿的权利时。

所以，当特芮丝坐在男性友人的汽车后座，隔着起雾的玻璃窗望向纽约夜间的街道和愉悦的行人时，或是当她站在卡罗尔家里，透过窗户望见正与丈夫纠缠吵闹地卡罗尔时——镜头的语言都是极富深意的。

表面上看来，她望向的“自由”的城市空间，或是她默默爱恋的人，就在她触手可及的地方。但如果她真的伸出手，触摸到的只能是冰冷的窗玻璃。



卡罗尔在与特芮丝分开后，正是经历了这样的幻觉和困境：她坐在汽车的后座，透过玻璃窗看见身着红衣的特芮丝行走在窗外的街道上。她的渴望已经近在咫尺，但她并不能真正得到。她能做的只有静坐在车里，继续前往裁决她命运的听证会。

从这个角度来看，影片中的玻璃窗可能象征着一种自由无拘束的幻觉，一种伪善的囚禁。换句话说，50年代的美国给女性开了一张“平等自由”的空头支票，自由对她们来说看得见却摸不着，她们依然在社会限制的眼光中周身不得动弹。而《卡罗尔》中频繁出现的玻璃窗意象，则是用艺术性的方式进行了类似的政治批评。

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2. 都市人的孤独

但是，电影中的玻璃窗显然远不止一种解读的方式。在我看来，除了女权政治相关的批评之外，玻璃窗这个意象还使《卡罗尔》有了对城市生活的批判性思考。

电影中有两组相似的镜头，出现在卡罗尔两次与法律系统关于女儿抚养权的失败交涉后。镜头里，卡罗尔独自站或坐在落地玻璃窗后，窗外大街上匆匆行人的身影也隐约倒映在玻璃上。

于是镜头记录下的是一个忧郁的错觉：在窗玻璃的平面上，卡罗尔的影子与窗外行人的影子叠在一起，似乎正身处在窗外行人的包围之中；然而事实是她独身一人，与城市的人群远远相隔。这其实正是都市生活中人最容易产生的情感。穿梭在城市空间中的都市人每日要遇见许许多多的陌生人，然而个体的孤独却始终难解。



与此同时，卡罗尔与特芮丝身为陌生人的一见钟情，大概是对城市偶遇最浪漫的想象。但是电影并没有用很浓烈的笔墨刻画她们变得亲密的过程，一切是克制而隐秘的。

《卡罗尔》仅用几个简洁的场景就描摹出她们的心意相通：在卡罗尔与丈夫争吵后，我们看到的是她没有泪水的悲伤。然而目睹了一切后的特芮丝乘火车归家，身旁的窗玻璃上却影映着她哭泣的脸。

一个简单的镜头就已经述说了所有。特芮丝的悲伤显然是与卡罗尔的一种共情。虽然此时她与卡罗尔只是仅见过三面的“陌生人”，她却仿佛感同身受着卡罗尔的痛苦，并代替她流下了眼泪。

由此看来，在《卡罗尔》中，玻璃窗的意向是复杂的：它既映照了城市人群的孤独，也成为了照出都市人内心感情的镜子。

无论是哪一种解读，其实都不仅仅局限于两位女主人公之间所谓“私人”的爱情。这些细节所投射的其实是一些社会性的情感：“城里人”的孤独和对知己的渴求。这个“大格局”的主题在电影史上早已被讨论了千万遍，但《卡罗尔》的高明之处在于其注重视觉美感的隐晦处理。没有过多义正言辞的说教和矫情烂俗的桥段，孤独和爱都通过精妙的摄影构图和玻璃窗这个视觉主题来呈现，让观众自己去看去感受。

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3. 电影艺术本身

然而，也许在大部分电影观众看来，《卡罗尔》中的玻璃窗到底意味着什么根本不重要。更重要的是，因为这些巧用玻璃窗的光影来拍摄的镜头，《卡罗尔》拥有了一种独特的美，并能让人置身一种怅然的情怀。

从某种程度上，其实无论是特芮丝手中的相机镜头，还是用以拍摄电影的相机镜头，都可以看做是一扇“玻璃窗”：特芮丝透过相机看到卡罗尔摄人心魄的美。而我们作为电影观众，透过托德海因斯的摄像机，看到的是一个能牵动人心弦的光影世界。

托德·海因斯本身就是一个影迷。他与所有观众一样，深深地迷恋着电影艺术的光影。《卡罗尔》复古的质感来源于胶片电影的独有魅力，同时也是导演继《远离天堂》之后，又一次对50年代好莱坞通俗喜剧大师道格拉斯·塞克的致敬。

关于塞克的电影，最著名的莫过于对比感强烈的配色。《卡罗尔》的色调是同样大胆的：从片中鲁尼·马拉常戴的那顶鲜艳的红黄相间的毛呢帽，到凯特·布兰切特雍容的衣着中点缀着的鲜橘色丝巾，总能成为纽约阴沉的冬天里亮眼的风景。

除了塞克，《卡罗尔》中两位女主人公的公路旅行也像是对著名女权电影《末路狂花》的致敬。只是与《末路狂花》中摧毁男权的旅程全然不同，当卡罗尔在愤怒中向偷窥她的私家侦探举起枪，那把枪里却并没有子弹。显然，在托德·海因斯的镜头下，卡罗尔与特芮丝并没有成为维权先锋。但海因斯用电影独特的美学形式书写了她们最美丽的感情，和最沉默的抗争。

无论是从女性主义角度的批评还是对城市生活的复杂刻画，《卡罗尔》首要顾及的从来不是政治正确和煲出正能量心灵鸡汤。影片的出发点始终在人与人之间的隐秘感情，这大概也是为什么许多人会觉得《卡罗尔》拘泥于儿女情长。然而我欣赏托德海因斯的视角，因为我也认为，在庞大的社会机器里，只有人的感情是永远无法被定义的变量。无论多么“大格局”的政治抗争和社会批评，都起源于个体因不愿放弃私人情感而勇敢突破禁忌。

在电影的结尾，当特芮丝终于在宴会的人群中走向卡罗尔，这一次她的视线里终于没有了玻璃窗的阻隔，也没有了她的相机，她坦然地走向了卡罗尔。手持摄像摇晃的镜头从她的视角望出去，我们看到卡罗尔的微笑。

* 部分原文投稿于《大众电影》杂志

  看了carol在纽约的点映，一连两场，几乎满座。电影院6个厅里有四个在放carol，不禁感叹纽约人民在文化活动这件事上超高的幸福指数。你想看的，你想见的，只要穿过难以置信的肮脏与拥挤，都能见到。看完电影整个人都处在一种极其懵逼的状态下，站在寒风中等机场巴士，忍着一天没吃没喝的饥肠辘辘排队安检，这些场景现在回忆起来显得格外模糊。而清晰是，电影院里一对又一对沉默的情侣，为爱情流眼泪的男男女女，还有该死的忘不掉的爱情。首先做个总结陈词，谢谢海因斯，谢谢女王，谢谢麻辣妹子，谢谢纽约，谢谢感恩节。这对于我来说是一场万人齐心的梦，是近期感受到的最壮阔而又细腻的事情。

  然而故事还是那个俗套的故事，无非是性向摇摆的多金中年白富美与不满恋爱现状的文青小白兔之间的牵绊和拉扯。一见钟情，共进午餐，互生好感，结伴旅行。做陷入爱情的人都会做的事——做爱，亲吻，伤害，挽回。很多侧面或正面的小细节都处理的很好，比如小记者对therese说“你应该多拍拍人”，比如therese和男友之间关于boy’s love的争论，比如女王把手搭在therese的肩上时therese无法掩饰的紧张，再比如妹子读了carol给的分手信自己跑到草丛里吐。不得不说，todd比女人更了解女人，有些小场景一出，少女们纷纷捶胸顿足，恨自己怎么就没有过如此真实而又铭心的恋爱经历。

  有一幕给我印象格外深刻，是发生在carol抛下therese消失在旅行途中之后。carol坐在出租车里，正在赶去一个类似于庭外调解的小型会面。路上行人来去匆匆，carol望向窗外，看见了therese，穿着红色的毛衣格子裙，手中拿着黑色的小本子，穿过人群与车辆。与不久前曾经伤害过的恋人偶遇，她看不见你，你久久凝视，凝视着极力克制住的情感，凝视着她也凝视着自己。caol的心理转变发生在一瞬间，真实，克制，不说一句，没有流下一滴眼泪，内心却如同千万波涛汹涌着，冲击过早已瓦解的堡垒。在这里，cate为所有人奉献了教科书般的演技，细微到几乎无法察觉的面部表情变化，眼神里的隐忍，呼吸间的紧张与压抑——没有任何多余的动作，完美到令人发指。这是一场不动声色的崩溃，也是重生，它发生的极为突然，却让你如此深刻的体会到命运的定数和爱情的魔力。有了这一段的铺垫，自然有了后面在调解会议上她的一番话，承认和therese之间发生的事情，不抵赖，不妥协。她克制住自己的情感，最后一次表明了自己的立场，“我不会再妥协了。如果你执意不允许我见女儿，我们可以上法庭。但那样我们会变的ugly,我们都不是ugle的人，不是吗。”说完，carol哭着走出调解室，抛下其实无辜的丈夫，和一段再也没有意义的婚姻。其实这里关于ugly的说法是很有趣的，可能正是由于carol与前夫之间并没有太多单方面的情感，才会以ugly来定义整件事的未来走向，有种旁观者叙述故事时的清白与掌控力，又透露出婚姻生活的种种无奈与无力。也是因为这里，才更能对比出carol和therese情感间的交互，深刻，以及不受控。

  或许是看戏的过客过分敏感，太过痴心；或许是妹子超越年龄的演技（感觉凭这一部麻辣可以轻松拿到所有最佳女主，有几幕她比cate演的还要好），让自我代入变得极为容易与自然；又或许是导演的恶趣味，巴不得全世界的女人都因为cate弯成一盘蚊香（恶趣味这件事有证可循，详见nyff采访和cannes记者见面会，对于“中国女生看过预告片都变弯”的反复强调）。总之电影会让人产生一种持续力超强的crush，更致命的是你可能会发现这场crush是个无头案，既不是对therese也不完全是对carol，好像只是迷恋上了一种氛围，在现实中不可见，在电影中又转瞬即逝。但只要抓住了，便是掉入了不复的深渊，久久难以抽离。于是心心念念着再看一遍只看一遍，却可能不自觉又反反复复琢磨了好几十回。而充满胶片感的一帧帧画面，是这场集体暗恋的源头。

  不得不说，电影用16mm摄影机拍摄呈现出的明显的粗粝感，在电影院里感受的应该是最为深刻。复古拍摄手法的运用，也让一切感情的流动变的缓慢，宁静，克制。和原著不同，therese的设定从舞台设计师变成了摄影师。基本上胶片机不离手，也有一场在暗室里冲洗照片的独角戏。她把照片纸放进药水里，用夹子再加出来，抖落下水滴，然后久久凝视着照片中的carol。这是一种很奇妙的体验，胶片的质感为观众营造出一种触碰感，而影片里的人，也触碰着用胶片机拍摄出的照片。情欲的流动，不再仅仅局限在电影里。todd通过这个改编，创造出一种看似不可能的纽带，让一些东西从carol的一颦一笑滑落到therese的每一张照片上，再一转，自然的流进每一个电影院里观众的心。你要问我这些究竟是什么，我不太想说。因为这是一种隐秘的恋爱的心情——不可能之可能，每一个电影观众都曾深深幻想过的极为致命的不足为外人道的bad romance。

  我不否认有人指出的carol被过誉，因为的确它只是一部完美的水准之作。题材讨巧，演员惊艳，拿捏的恰到好处的复古，这一切让它在起点比其他电影高的同时也丧失了一种生气与惊喜。然而这部电影的精妙之处在于，在克制与爆发间找到了一个完美的平衡点。所有人都凝神屏息的站在这个平衡点上，以小格局来放大人类与人类之间最最普通的情感。同性爱的挣扎与抗争被弱化，最浓烈的笔墨都献给情感的摇摆。这是优点还是缺点，争辩在看完电影后已经毫无意义。因为没有人能抵挡住todd的特写。每一支烟，每一次转身，每一次欲言又止沉默不语，每一次眼神交汇意乱情迷。这是每一根发丝都生机勃勃充满爱意的美，这是寂寞世界上最远离天堂的天堂，这是每一个失魂人拼命寻找的归途与故乡。

  就让画面停止在最后的对视。当装饰统统撕去，彼此赤裸相对。好像有什么东西悄悄从你身体里升起，然后又重重落下。你带着它开始奔跑，身处千万个陌生城市，身处千万个房间，身处荒无人烟的小岛，身处地狱，身处天堂。

随手丢一个结合个人经历的观后感链接：http://www.douban.com/note/528243740/