Todd Haynes’ gorgeous new film Carol is a delicate, romantic examination of queer identity in the 1950s. Based on the Patricia Highsmith’s novel “The Price of Salt”, about a virginal shop girl named Therese (Rooney Mara) who falls for the titular Carol (Cate Blanchett), this understated lesbian romance is an often joyous look at a blossoming relationship that transcends all obstacles of its era. Articulating that imperceptible pull of deep affection, Carol is wonderfully acted by its two leads. Mara and Blanchett develop an instant, intriguing chemistry that breaths life into their reserved initial exchanges. The immaculately crafted love story demonstrates the power of genuine connection, regardless of gender.

Haynes and his actors are able to express more with a lingering hand on a shoulder than most romances achieve in an entire film. Opening with a nervous dinner between Therese and Carol, the pair of women communicate an extensive mutual history without the benefit of the context that will later be added. Blanchett brings a dignified elegance to her fiery character, with a controlled outward demeanor Carol tries her hardest to maintain. To paraphrase a line from Carol’s jilted husband Harge (an excellent, but one-note Kyle Chandler), she’s always the most commanding presence in the room.

Her stoicism gives way when in the presence of her younger counterpart. It’s the radiant Rooney Mara who shines brightest in Carol, in spite of her character’s passive tendencies. The reserved manner in which Mara carries herself—burdened by the men and job that take her presence for granted – slowly gives way to reveal a girl simply unsure of herself. To Therese, Carol is more than someone to love, but someone whose self-assuredness is something to which she aspires (during their first get together, Therese admits she, “barely know[s] what to order for lunch”). To Carol, Therese is an alluring presence that needs to be coaxed out of her shell. Each actor seems charmed by the other’s quirks. It’s only in Carol’s presence that Therese learns to stick up for her own desires.

Carol shares thematic and temporal similarities to another Haynes film, 2002’s Far From Heaven, with the notable difference between being how retrospectively coy Far From Heaven seems by comparison. While Far From Heaven treats its homosexual elements as a reveal, Carol gives the gay relationship center stage throughout. No characters go so far as to use the L-word, G-word or H-word, but they are unrepentant about their “immoral” feelings. Therese and Carol have a harmonious bond. Even with Haynes’ history in making gay-centric movies (Poison, Velvet Goldmine), Carol feels like a step towards normalcy.

Carol could have simply been a story about a relationship falling victim to a bygone age. Instead, Haynes constructs a testament to love’s ability to endure. It’s a beautiful story only partly due to its unfettered handling of the lesbian relationship, but for the precision with which it portrays their romance. There’s a certain stiffness typically associated with Period Pieces—where costumes and era appropriate dialog gets in the way of character. That is never the case with Todd Haynes’ newest film, which uses time period as set dressing for a humanistic drama. The production details are flawless and immersive, but Haynes’ camera draws attention to his actors’ faces and their mindsets.

The culmination of Therese and Carol’s romance comes naturally. Haynes teases out the process until it seems as if the two are simply meant to get together, and that first blissful moment they share is exciting and moving. The film’s careful finale is Carol at its most tender, ending on a touchingly delightful note in sync with the rest of the film. It’s hope from the past to give us hope for our future.

The Los Angeles Film Festival continued its Gala screenings Tuesday with The Two Faces of January. First time director Hossein Amini has proven he understands the art of calculated and slow-building periodic drama as the screenwriter of subdued gems The Wings of the Dove and Jude. He’s even proven he can handle drama of a more fast-paced nature with his script for 2011’s Drive. But Amini’s directorial début seems to hint at a possible film truth — that perhaps writing talent and directorial talent come from two different places.

Set in Greece in 1962, The Two Faces of January is based on the Patricia Highsmith novel of the same name. She who gave us the inspiration for similar film adaptations The Talented Mr. Ripley and Hitchcock’s Strangers on a Train. Highsmith weaves thrillers involving characters that fall into one of two categories: those who have and those who covet. The Two Faces of January is no exception, telling the tale of American couple Chester and Colette MacFarland (Viggo Mortenson and Kirsten Dunst) on vacation in Greece, both the epitome of American wealth and refinement. The two catch the eye of part-time tour guide and sometime swindler Rydal (Oscar Isaac), an American who has been living in Greece, avoiding his family to the point of missing his own father’s funeral.

After catching Rydal staring at them, Colette investigates and Rydal charms them into an outing at the flea market, and later dinner. Enamored with the young Colette, and clearly in awe of the stylish Chester, Rydal rushes to return a bracelet Colette left in the taxi after their evening out. When he gets to the hotel he finds Chester in a precarious position involving an unconscious man. From there Rydal’s ambition and daddy issues pull him into the mounting troubles of Chester and Colette, while his increasing attraction to Colette forces him to travel into darker and darker territory to protect them.

Amini, while clearly capable of writing great characters, falters somewhat in getting his actors to help push the story along. The tacit tension between the three of them is certainly evident in their spectacular performances, however the film’s pacing is lacking, each of their misery only adding to the heap and not building off one another. Viggo Mortenson has made a believable transition from the smoldering heroes he’s played in the past, to an older cocksure man of leisure. Oscar Isaac continues to be the best part of almost every movie I’ve seen him in of late (even the recent and truly stunted In Secret, another film of wasted performances), his chiseled face and hungry expressions always conveying his lust for the sort of life he thinks he wants. Kirsten Dunst seems to be the deficient element, though not likely by any fault of her own as she’s given us plenty of remarkable performances over the years. Instead Amini underutilizes Dunst’s character, rather than allow the story to flow from her anchor as the strongest link between the three of them. As a result, Rydal’s infatuation seems unwarranted, Chester’s growing jealousy equally so.

With a distinctly classic feel, the soft lighting and bright colors of Greece are a stark contrast to the darker moments of vulnerability and madness woven through the few days the film covers. Cinematographer Marcel Zyskind (Dancer in the Dark) could hardly make the exotic locales of the film look anything but beautiful. Amini’s ambitions are clear, often utilizing distinctly Hitchcockian motifs. A closing foot chase scene through the pebbled streets of Istanbul could have been pulled straight out of a 50’s black and white film-noir. Steven Noble’s costume design is distractingly sophisticated. Clearly Amini has all the pieces: the looks, the feel, the music, the actors, but where he seems to falter is where Hitchcock most excelled — delving into the psychology of his characters.  Where Hitchcock would dig deeper, Amini has only given us surface level and thus being truly invested in their collective fate is rather hard to muster. The story plays out melodramatically, instead of thrillingly.

Leveraging nostalgia and star power, the film is enticing even as it makes one hungry to put on an older classic. He may not yet be a writer-director double-threat, but this is an elegant first film from Hossein Amini.

Many film fans are familiar with the work of the late novelist Patricia Highsmith, whether they know it or not, as her books have been adapted into several films including the Alfred Hitchcock classic Strangers on a Train, and the not as classic Matt Damon-lead The Talented Mr. Ripley. The most recent Highsmith film adaptation, Hossein Amini’s The Two Faces of January, has been making the festival rounds and will be showing at the LA Film Festival in June.

Now, another one of the well-loved author’s novels is set for adaptation with a cast led by Patrick Wilson, Jessica Biel, Imogen Poots, and Toby Jones. The as-of-yet untitled adaptation of Highsmith’s novel The Blunderer will be directed by Andy Goddard. Killer Films’ Christine Vachon & David Hinojosa are attached to produce, and Sierra Pictures is set to finance the psychological thriller, which will search for buyers in Cannes.

Production company Killer Films has a history of facilitating filmmakers in preparing their first or second features. Just since 2013 the production company has worked with John Krokidas (Kill Your Darlings), Lance Edmands (Bluebird), Andrew T. Betzer (Young Bodies Heal Quickly), Tristan Patterson (Electric Slide), and Jason Stone (the upcoming film The Calling) in getting their first films made. While director Andy Goddard is far from inexperienced (having directed a lot of television including several Downton Abbey episodes) this will only be his second feature film, and his first American-made movie.

Production is slated to start on this film later this year.

Source: Deadline

It was a packed house at the Castro Theater in San Francisco last night for Opening Night of the 57th annual San Francisco International Film Festival. I should know–I had to sit in the nosebleeds! (It’s that damn SF parking. 2 hour limits can suck a…never mind.) Despite my undesirable vantage point of the beautiful silent era theater, I was excited, as there was a definite buzz in the air for the SFIFF faithful, many of whom are members of the San Francisco Film Society (SFFS), the organization responsible for making the festival happen in addition to their other remarkable contributions to the national film community.

When Noah Cowan–an accomplished veteran of the Toronto International Film Festival and newly appointed executive director of SFFS–took to the podium to kick off the festival, a thrilling rush of applause practically blew his hair back. The San Francisco film community was saddened when Ted Hope stepped down from the position just recently, but when SFFS named Cowan as the new head honcho, overseeing SFIFF as his first major task, we couldn’t have been more happy. His inaugural address felt like a new beginning for the festival, and he felt the love. “Thank you for the warm San Francisco greeting,” he said with a humble grin. Needless to say, we Bay Area residents look forward to a bright future for the festival, and to Cowan we give our full support.

The reality is, however, that Cowen’s only been in town for about six weeks. We owe this year’s incredible festival lineup to Rachel Rosen, SFFS’s Director of Programming, and her team. Rosen stepped onstage next to Cowan, I got goosebumps at the thought of what the two will accomplish together in years to come.

Following the festival introductions, director-screenwriter Hossein Amini (he wrote Drive) stepped on stage to introduce his film, The Two Faces of January, an adaptation of a novel by Patricia Highsmith (other adaptations of her books include The Talented Mr. Ripley and Ripley’s Game). A throwback to ’60s murder romances like Hitchcock’s most touristic pictures, the film is set in 1962, following Chester and Colette (Viggo Mortensen and Kirsten Dunst), an American couple vacationing in Athens who meet a swindling tour guide named Rydal (Oscar Isaac). Rydal gets caught up in a sticky predicament with the couple when he becomes a witness to a fatal hotel room accident, and the three attempt to flee the country before the police can sniff them out.

Amini exhibits old-fashioned cinematic style, riffing on tried-and-true noir, love triangle, and suspense machinations to entertaining effect. Isaac, Dunst, and Mortensen are game performers, and they all have natural chemistry with one another. Most engaging is Mortensen and Isaac’s relationship, which sits somewhere between a testosterone-driven rivalry and a father-son companionship. Dunst’s role lacks the same depth. The cinematography by Marcel Zyskind is clean and crisp, and picturesque, but the score by Alberto Iglesias emulates the great Bernard Hermann too closely. The film pays homage to a specific era in cinema without feeling retro, which is its greatest accomplishment. It’s greatest disappointment is that it doesn’t insert itself as a formidable entry into the sub-genres it evokes, a feat proven possible by gems like Shaun of the Dead and The Artist.

For more SFIFF57 coverage, stay tuned to Way Too Indie.