I just love the scene where Carol discovers that they delivered a *gasp* black couch to her home ("no, we wanted teal, we ordered teal!")
When Julianne Moore walks into the living room and says, with a stunned/shocked look, "oh my god" (and almost drops her copy of Vogue:), you expect to see a dismembered body on the floor or something.......
that always cracks me up:)
when you spot your flower, you can't let anything get in your way.
"I'm a housewi--I'm a homemaker" in that little girl voice, is for some reason always perfectly clear in my mind.
Also Moore's rambling speech at the end. omg, omfg. "It's out there."
'revealingly incoherent'
"I'm a housewi--I'm a homemaker" in that little girl voice, is for some reason always perfectly clear in my mind.
Also Moore's rambling speech at the end. omg, omfg. "It's out there."
Yes! Great choices:)
Two simple, subtle moments that said so much about her character.
Moore was great in this film. I know it is far too 'quiet' a performance to gain attention/praise from most people, but for me, the closer you look at it, the more brilliant it seems.
I could watch her performance over and over and never get tired of it.....which I think says a lot, considering that her character is almost catatonic half the time :) Moore just pulls off a real feat of acting/dramatism ~ making an outwardly 'uninteresting' character fascinating to watch and become in involved in.
I find her (Carol) to be almost impenetrable (because there is no identifcation with the character on my part), but somehow Moore makes you want to try to understand her. That's a great performance imo.
"I could watch her performance over and over and never get tired of it"
agreed. there's something really aesthetically satisfying about it, like an object.
My favorite scene was in the retreat, when they celebrated her birthday and they asked her to say something, then she said she hated herself and then started babbling about labels, buildings and aids, you could tell she was on a different wave lengths in comparison to the rest of the group, the awkward pause after she finished just showed they had no clue who the birthday was for, it actually made me sad.
shareWOrd. It sounded like she was just spitting out bits of the various lectures she'd attended.
shareMy favourite scenes were these:
***spoilers!***
The opening sex scene, where after he climaxes, Carol simply gives him a kiss on cheek. I laughed so hard, she just gives him this little peck on the cheek, almost like a mother to a child; "Good work, honey. Great job."
The scene where she discovers the black couches - I truly thought that someone had fainted, or expected to see blood everywhere from Moore's reaction.
The scene where she calls herself a 'milkaholic' and a 'housewi-homemaker'.
All the scenes with Chris. Haynes tortures us with the possibility of her getting together with Chris and takes it nowhere (of course), which is simultaneously infuriating, but also essential to highlight how isolated Carol is.
The surprise birthday party where she rambles, and of course the ending, where she lies to herself in the futile hope of getting better.
These comments have helped me to understand why I can stand repeat viewings of this film. I have quite a low tolerance for watching films over and over again and don't own many DVDs as a result, but this is an exception. I can watch it weekly without getting bored.
The film itself is a beautiful, impersonal object whose surface appears devoid of all emotional interaction. In another thread somewhere people were talking about 2001's monolith - that's another object from film that I can gaze at with an odd mixture of awe and the creeps. I'm fascinated by things that offer to share nothing of their intrinsic nature - like a neanderthal staring at a big black brick, I can gaze at Carol knowing that something very odd is going on but having no idea where to start making sense of it.
My favourite scene of the whole movie is her saying "I love you" to herself in the mirror at the end. I've watched the film a few times (again last night after reading this thread) and each time my thoughts about what's next for Carol are different.
On my most recent viewing, I felt it to be a hopeful end, rather than a melancholy attempt to claw something good out of a desperate situation as I did when I first saw the film. There were a few things that led me to this conclusion:-
1) In the final scene, she is taking advice given to her by Claire on her first disorientating night at Wrenwood. Claire appears to have an open mind about EI/MCS and believes that the psychosomatic aspect is crucial to recovery. She is able to convey to Carol that a brave look towards the internal is a route to improvement, without sending her a guilt-laden and unhelpful "it's all in your mind". Claire is also the first person to really hug Carol in a respectful way. She hugs Carol on first meeting her, but senses Carol's discomfort, and later approaches her more carefully. Claire has her flaws (blind optimism, subscription to Wrenwood's philosophy) but they are forgiveable ones. Her scene in the cabin with Carol appears to be the first genuine, respectful interaction in the film. Compare it with conversations Carol has with "friends" at home, or her husband, mother, psychiatrist, doctor. It touches Carol and she thanks Claire with a tone of voice that shows it to be an authentic thank you. So the final scene for me can show Carol being able to take good advice kindly given in an attempt to move forward.
2) The arrival of Chris in her life is a powerful signpost for a good outcome. Again, he is respectful of her wishes and space - when they sign up to cook the shared meal, he asks her "You don't mind, do you?" and is genuinely concerned that she be comfortable working with him. They share gentle jokes and we hear Carol laughing freely (compare this with her numbing-off in the presence of friends at dinner "enjoying" a rubbish joke about the stuck vibrator, an unacceptable response which she is chastised about and has to apologise repeatedly for). He organises her birthday surprise. We are left feeling that Chris may have some romantic intention toward her, but that it is being respectfully handled and is likely to draw Carol out rather than push her further inside.
3) Her speech after blowing out her candles. Yes, it is disjointed, yes, she is not going to win any prizes, but there are a couple of things she says with a conviction that is striking for her character. The first is a general thank you to everyone for getting her through a difficult time, and that she couldn't have done it without them. This is partly what would be expected of anyone giving a speech in these circumstances, but her smiles and eye contact show that she is speaking the truth to some extent. This is followed by a powerful blurting out of "I really hated myself before..." - she almost surprises herself with having said it and seems to lose her train of thought from this point, but just having said it shows that she is developing insight.
4) Finally, the way the final scene is shot. Carol makes full eye contact with herself and the viewer. She is looking at herself honestly, warts-and-all. How different to the hairdresser scene when she looks at her immaculate, beautiful self in the mirror and the pain inside literally leaks out in the form of a mosebleed. In fact all previous mirror interactions have been associated with pain and panic (the baby shower being another example). She looks desperately ill in the final scene, but seems to be shining with courage at the same time. She's finally seeing herself, and although she has an extremely long way to go, she has made a tentative step forward.
I have lots more thoughts about this wonderful film since my last viewing and will now go and scatter them merrily about the board :)
It's been a number of years since I've seen this, but in total, I've probably watched this at least 30 times.
My favorite scene, as has already been mentioned, begins with the transition from the psychiatrist's office ("What's happening in YOU?") to the baby shower, basically, to me, indicating and crystallizing Carol's life down to its essence, which basically means, look pretty and socialize on a very superficial level with people you really have no interest in, if only because it takes you away from your empty house. I can't put it into words, but that shower scene really emphasizes her "alone-ness," even though she is surrounded by "friends." And, of course, the MOST brilliant scene in the film is the "panic attack" with the girl on her lap. The way the camera pulls VERY slowly back, in accompaniment with the eerie hum on the soundtrack to me was just masterful.
I'll think of more, but I need to see the film again to comment fully.
I CAN say, however, that within the first few viewings, I already discovered (and sampled....and incorporated into a few of my own songs/audio collages) my favorite line from the film. It's when Carol is sitting on the bed, apologizing to her husband for all her problems, and says, "I'm sorry...I know it's not normal, but....I can't help it." That line, to me, basically defined my life at that point in time. I knew I was different, in terms of taste in films, music, viewpoints on certain subjects, etc....and went against the "norm"...but the more I discovered films like Safe, Repulsion, Clean, Shaven, etc., the more I found that I honestly couldn't help but to submerge myself into a lifestyle/ways of thinking that skewed FAR from the demographics of my age. Hard to explain, I guess, but I guess I feel that once I discovered a taste of what it was like outside of the mainstream, I honestly just got sucked in, and felt that there was no return. I couldn't help it. This was how I chose to live my life, for better or for worse.
Anyway, when I get around to seeing it again, I'll come back and post more thoughts.
"Everything begins and ends at exactly the right time and place."-from Picnic at Hanging Rock
You really think you are out of the mainstream because you like films that millions of other people like? lulwut?
shareBack...hehe.Besides the baby shower scene I referenced above, which is still one of the most unsettling scenes I've ever seen in any film, I also love (ie-hate) the scene where Dunning says something to the effect of, "I look around me, and realize how lucky I am." It cuts to a shot of Nell, who has a dawning realization (or maybe realized it quite some time ago) and turns away. Carol herself also seems to realize exactly what he is saying between the lines, but chooses to ignore it. My interpretation is that he has the huge house on the hill, and is referencing that he looks around, sees all the gullible or hopeless people (at least, how he sees it) that he can put on a song and dance for and relieve of their money. Nell always seems to question Dunning, but seems so thoroughly disgusted by the fact that he is pretty much flat-out stating his intents and how he views the residents, and how everyone there is so desperate and needy that they con themselves into believing that he's doing good, that she cannot even comment.And not a scene in particular, but how throughout the entire film, a lot of the dialogue between Carol and Greg trails off, as if neither person can say exactly what they mean. In Carol's case, it seems to be because she's afraid of expressing herself for fear of offending her husband, or possibly that she just literally cannot form any sort of verbal connection, and leaves it up to him to interpret what she means. This plays into and highlights two main themes of the film...its ambiguous nature in general, and the disconnect, the isolation, and emotional distance between them. Here's a husband and wife who SHOULD know each other well enough to be comfortable finishing each other's sentences. Instead, the lack of a finished thought seems to be almost too great a chasm to surmount. With Greg on the other hand, it's not so much trailing off as almost being accusatory or dismissive. He constantly refers to stuff she does as "the...thing," or questioning her about where she found out about the meetings, as an example. Ironically, this might be the first time in the film where she trails off, and then immediately after gains the confidence to tell him that it is something that she's doing for herself. Small victories.There are just so many other examples of favorite scenes...discussing her brother's death, and describing him in the third person (the youngest of my mother's sons), as well as the distant camera, again lending a feeling of isolation and disconnect; the feeling in a few scenes of how Carol's immediate environment dwarfs her to the point of almost insignificance (wonderful framing with these scenes of the house, and just wonderful camerawork in general, again, lending a feeling of distancing which makes it hard for the viewer to sympathize or empathize with Carol); and the little slightly disgruntled but conceding gestures and statements made by those in the service industry (the hairdresser stating that Carol had not booked a perm, but that she had a cancellation, so she'd be able to fit it in; the guy at the furniture store who gives a slight sigh, and tells her he'd call the store upstairs...both of these are very slight but very knowing nods to those in the service industry whose clientele is the well-to-do)...and along with the perm, the way Carol's body changes posture when she inquires about it, and how Greg's "Sexy," comment about the perm is so utterly lacking in conviction."Everything begins and ends at exactly the right time and place."-from Picnic at Hanging Rock
shareThank you for bringing up Roman Polanski's "Repulsion", "Safe" reminded me of that one, with Catherine Denevue's harrowing inhibitions, and I would mention it here myself if nobody else had :)
As far as the vacuum of living goes, I was also reminded of the wife character from Francois Truffaut's "Fahrenheit 451" - except Julie Christie in that role was much less of a victim and much more of a mindless carefree drone.
BTW, there was a scene at the group therapy sharing session where Carol was very quick to object to saying anything private. I think this is a hint at something deeply repressed in her; a repressed memory of a childhood abuse perhaps? Perhaps an abortion she had? (Which might go towards explaining her panic attack at the baby shower...)
Spiralmug, you've offered some wonderful and truly insightful comments here......
the subtleties you've noticed are things that so many 'casual' viewers would completely miss (but perhaps that could be because of the 'slow pace' of the film-some people simply can't stay 'engaged' when the pace is too slow for them)
the little things you've pointed out, about how Carol relates to people at Wrenwood, are really brilliant insights into the essence of her character. thank you :)
(it's always invigorating reading other peoples' insights, especially from people who appreciate the film as much as you do - and it seems we're in an unfortunately small group)
Thank you Mr Magoo, I appreciate that.
I've enjoyed reading many of the comments on this movie. You're right, it doesn't have a massive appeal, but when it does touch someone the effect appears to be profound.
Agreed-- that was an awesome post.
share[deleted]
This film is in my personal top ten so there's a few favourite scenes I have:
Their son Rory is reading out his homework essay on the "Black ghettos of LA" at the dinner table. It's actually quite funny as the language Rory uses is so over the top with it's descriptions of violence including statements like "many innocent deaths using AK 47's, Mach10's" "body parts dismembered" "throats slashed", it's almost Monty Pythonesqe in its absurdity until the end when Rory casually mentions that more white areas are being overtaken by violent black gangs, so crudely racist. His father looks pleased and praises him with "Good job Ror". The only thing Carol can contribute is "Does it have to be so gory?", with the blatant racism not registering on anyone's radar, an indictment of the white upper middle class mindset.
The scene where Carol is in her friend's kitchen discussing some sort of situtation that has occured with her friend's older brother, it sounds like a suicide or something. The surroundings are so souless and clincial with the decor perfectly black and white and a unsettling humming noise in the background. You get a glimpse of the house from the outside which looks cold and ultra modern, particularly for the time this film is set in. The interior is a reflection of both Carol and her friend's spiritual emptiness.
The psychiatrist scene where Carol is sitting primly on the large couch in front of a giant window with what looks like a fernery or garden outside camouflaged by a semi-tranparent curtain. I love this scene particularly for the way it looks, it's one of my favourite sets in the film. He's obviously a very successful "high end" psychiatrist with wealthy clients by the look of his well appointed office. There is also something very souless and clinical about the surroundings here and Carol comes across as very uncomfortable when talking about herself and can't seem to pinpoint any "problems" purely because she is completely devoid of feeling anything.
As someone has already mentioned:
>Carol arrives and wrenwood dragging her oxygen tank and floral-patterned bags across a barren landscape, Nell says, in the creepiest way, "I see you", then slowly pulls her surgical mask back up over her blank face, to the sound of empty cans banging in the wind.
Complete with an Eno style ominous unwelcoming soundtrack.
ta,
Jamie
I love the scene where Carol is at one of the group gatherings at Wrenwood and Peter's performing one of his monologues. The look on Carol's face starts to show signs of doubt. By the time the woman comes out with the guitar and sings "give yourself to love" Carol has this horrified look of "where the fck am I?" Beautiful moment.
Right after the opening credits, Carol and her husband are leaving their car, they leave the garage and go inside. Lights shut off and door closes, but the camera stays lingering for like 2-5 seconds and it's just dark and all you can hear is this drone. Real powerful for some reason.
I'm from Paris... TEXAS
I think one of mine is very early in the movie wen she's making love with Greg. He has a prolonged orgasm and she fairly clearly doesn't, and she gives him a perfunctory kiss. There is something weird about that marriage,can't put my finger on it.
"I didn't betray you--I simply put a stop to you."
I've worked a lot as a housekeeper and done other work in peoples' houses. This is quite realistic. These types of crises can throw a client into a tizzy and sometimes their reactions and moods seem disproportionate, compared to the kind of problems you have , for example. But you have to kind of step into a different world, their world, and a different head, their head, while you are in their home. Most of my clients were like Carol, really quite fine people, generally, kind and generous, but with different priorities and lifestyles. That's why not everybody is cut out for domestic work.
"I didn't betray you--I simply put a stop to you."