Fun
Frisky
Nostalgic
Intense
Adventurous
Choked Up
Curious
Romantic
Weird
Hello, 911? Yes, I’d like to report an act of violent homophobia: Carol is leaving Netflix next week.
Yes, reader. It’s true. It was recently announced that Academy Award-nominated film Carol will be leaving Netflix on September 20th, and now, much like the president of the United States, I feel empty inside, a vast nothingness, and utter desperation. So, I wanted to air my grievances, and exhume my grief, in the form of a eulogy for this perfect movie.
As I look back on my time with Carol on Netflix, I’m warmed by the pleasant memories I have in streaming the iconic lesbian period drama. My heart glows with the memory of watching the film on my dad’s Netflix account, and thus, being recommended a bunch of other lesbian movies, and thus, watching them, and thus, having my dad call and say, “Mom and I are gonna watch a movie: Was Below Her Mouth any good?” But I guess my time with my favorite, most cherished movie about longing for a woman, has come to a jarring and dramatic close. So, here goes…
Goodbye, Carol on Netflix.
Goodbye, Rooney Mara’s sleek bob. Goodbye, the moment Carol delicately touches Therese’s shoulder. Goodbye, the words, “what a strange girl you are, flung out of space.” Goodbye, single glove Carol left at Therese’s store with purpose. Goodbye, Rooney Mara’s horniest role. Goodbye, Cate Blanchett’s masterclass in yearning. Goodbye, Cate Blanchett’s masterclass in stewing silently. Goodbye, Cate Blanchett’s masterclass in Being Mommy.
Goodbye, not having to scroll endlessly through a bottomless pit of Netflix garbage, because I have the option to watch Carol for the umpteenth time, and being perfectly content with doing just that. Goodbye, playing a steamy lesbian movie in the background while I pretend to work. Goodbye, playing a steamy lesbian movie in the background while a girl and I pretend we’re not going to hook up (and then ultimately hook up). Goodbye, playing a steamy lesbian movie in the background because I’m horny and I’m halfway through season three of my The L Word rewatch and I can’t watch Dana die again (sorry, spoiler).
Goodbye, sobbing gently into my couch cushions, having created a dark cave in my apartment where I can stream Carol while ruminating on the levels of emotional intimacy that two women can create. Goodbye, only thing queer women have to masturbate to. Goodbye, only movie in which Cate Blanchett plays explicitly queer (her role in Ocean’s 8 is only canonically queer).
Goodbye, tense strings and piano theme dubbed over that opening shot of a subway grate, a pattern and score which I would recognize anywhere, immediately, as a product of streaming this movie ad nauseam, and with ease. Goodbye, Netflix, who is henceforth cancelled for removing Carol from their streaming service, which is basically like spitting in the face of every queer woman and calling us “dykes.” Goodbye, homophobic 911 operator, who is also cancelled for not sending a squad car to the Netflix building in Hollywood after I reported this act of violence. Goodbye, my dad’s Netflix account, which I will be swiftly deleting as an act of radical queer rebellion.
Goodbye, me. Goodbye to any part of my self that felt momentarily sated, fulfilled. Goodbye fleeting joy, which I know I felt in 1 hour and 58 minute bursts (the length), but is now just a distant, fading memory.
And finally, goodbye lesbianism. It’s been a good run, but unfortunately, now that the Sapphic Bible won’t be readily accessible to me, I will have to quit being gay, start wearing khakis, and probably join a megachurch, bringing pain to as many people as possible, as a projection of my own repression.
That got really dark right there, and I’m definitely not going to do anything weird like become a Republican, but seriously… R.I.P. Carol. You were the longest relationship I’ve ever had. I’ll forever save a space for you in my “Watch It Again” category.
Jill Gutowitz is a haunted pair of overalls / writer living in Los Angeles. Follow her on Twitter: @jillboard.
