"My angel. Flung out of space."

In a deep state of annoyance, perhaps personally, at my limited enjoyment of Carol. A rhubarb-sweet period romance that unfortunately, hits as many emotional beats as one does staring at a Fabergé egg.

Asserted in a continuous pattern of linear moments, delicate yes, but not intriguing. It's almost uncharted ground to say this movie is anything but god on earth but goodness gracious is this a silky bore. I found a shadow of an emotional depth, it was flaunted as its focus, but it wasn't earned at all. Wasn't too keen on the editing either, for the first 30 minutes or so, it seems distracted with absolute nothingness and dead space.

Carol FINALLY hit a chord once Therese begins experimenting with the camera. It was almost like a sparkle of memory and ambition was set off, how is this romance going to be set up? How will the passion begin? Most of the 'passion' occurs when the time runs out.

In and out, monotonously luxurious, and the personal connection I wanted, an understanding of love, is crushingly missing.

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