

In this story of formative sexual awakening in 1950s New York City, the lens is quick to affix to the motherless, childless, barely-boyfriend’ed Therese. They are worthy of examination and embrace, even if reluctant.

Relievingly - as in real life - the mommy issues in Carol run wild: they are flagrant, dismaying, and, at times, immensely comforting, even when a bit harrowing.

Nonetheless, the opportunity presented by being outed in this way outpaces the inconvenience. In turn, acknowledging them indicts the author as one who is deeply afflicted. In Carol, the 2015 period melodrama directed by Todd Haynes and written by Phyllis Nagy, mommy issues - the shadow the mother casts across the mood and tendencies of the daughter - are prevalent so prevalent that they are invisible to the eyes of the socially-adjusted. I see all red around m/e, I cry out in m/y great distress mother mother why have you forsaken m/e, I hear nothing but the continued stridulations of the crickets, the low close-packed crowns of the olive trees do not separate to make way for her coming to m/e bare-footed her black hair and garments visible between the pale leaves, I turn towards you but you are all asleep. The first object cathexes occur in attachment to the satisfaction of major and simple vital needs, and the circumstances of the care of children are the same for both sexes. A Survey Of Films Where Women Curiously Love Other Women In Lieu Of Their Own Mothersįor a girl too her first object must be her mother (and figures of wet-nurses and foster-mothers that merge into her).
