Post by IsabelaRooney on Oct 29, 2017 22:43:18 GMT
FilmComment:The Great Recession: Restrained but resilient, a style of acting has taken hold that speaks to an era’s anxieties
[...] Lawrence and Stewart’s examples suggest this new aesthetic has something to do with the pervasiveness of photographic mediation in contemporary social life and the forms of self-presentation that tend to go along with it, as well as an anxiety about the prevalence of video surveillance and the ways it might alter our behavior. This second theme feels especially germane to Rooney Mara, whose two major films, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and Carol, cast her as both subject and object of surveillance. In Carol, Mara is pursed, nervous; she spends the film trying to avoid the loud men who crowd her line of vision. As Therese Belivet, a photographer who early on says that she doesn’t take pictures of people because it feels like “an invasion of privacy,” Mara delivers a performance that is internal but not psychological, jibing with the decision of the film’s director, Todd Haynes, to give us no information about her family history or past, in opposition to the long-standing tendency to psychologize and thus pathologize same-sex attraction (her clueless boyfriend says, of same-sex love, “there’s always a reason in the background”). Carol in fact gives us an allegory of the damage wrought by the over-psychologization of emotion: Carol (Cate Blanchett), whose theatrically feminine mannerisms and conjugal conflicts hail from the world of melodrama, is forced by her husband’s family to see a psychoanalyst to “cure” her lesbianism. Mara’s controlled watchfulness feels like a guard against such violation, and when she and Carol are spied upon by Carol’s husband, the invasion is all the more shattering. A similar suspicion of emotional intimacy with the spectator characterizes Mara’s even more withdrawn performance in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, where, as Lisbeth Salander, a hacker vigilante who documents her horrifically violent rape by her state social worker with a hidden video camera, and later stages a sting operation for corporate surveillance video in costume as a rich money launderer, she’s physically twitchy but emotionally utterly uncommunicative. Her basic emotional inaccessibility and inscrutability is framed as a response to the everyday brutality of her world.