Late to the Dance — Carol

How does a 62-year-old straight, southern man fall in love with a film about the romance between two women in mid-20th-century New York? What is it about director Todd Haynes’s Carol that drew me in like few movies/books ever have? Yes, I added “books”; after watching the film on a Thursday night and again the following morning, I purchased Patricia Highsmith’s novel The Price of Salt on Friday afternoon and read it over the weekend. Carol (2015) is based on The Price of Salt (1952) via Phyllis Nagy’s award-winning screen adaption. On Sunday evening, I felt criminal for accessing such a masterpiece for a measly 99¢ on Kindle.

The film and novel are different, quite different, in my opinion. That said, the love story, passion, and intensity are the same, and that’s what really matters, right? It is hard to imagine a long-time fan of The Price of Salt not enjoying Carol, but I speculate, as I had never heard of Carol or The Price of Salt before stumbling upon the movie on Netflix a couple of weeks ago. The film and novel have been reviewed, discussed, dissected, and lauded at length in the past four years. But dammit, in my little world, I missed all that. I’ve got to talk about this story with someone, but my narrow circle of acquaintances either can’t handle the subject matter or don’t get it, so you’re it.