Note: This is a repost of our review from the Telluride Film Festival; Carol begins in limited release tomorrow, November 20, and will expand markets thereafter.

Todd Haynes has built a career in bold cinema. He began his directorial career with an experimental documentary film that used Barbie dolls to re-enact the eating disorder and depression battles of Karen Carpenterb. He then used PBS' money to film a delirious short film about a young boy who desperately wants to be spanked after seeing it happen to a TV actress named Dottie. Haynes jumped into indie prominence with a chemical paranoia tale in Safe, then shifted gears to theatrical expression with the glam-rock bisexual opus, Velvet Goldmine. Haynes followed up his biggest mainstream acceptance, the Douglas Sirk-inspired 50s melodrama update Far from Heaven—which included the sexual orientations and racial imbalance that Sirk could only allude to—with an unconventional biopic of Bob Dylan—played by both genders and multiple actors—in, I'm Not There.

Carol is Haynes' newest film after a long hiatus—a hiatus that also included the magnificent HBO mini-series Mildred Pierce—and though it might be his most straight-forward movie, it is deceptively bold. More simply put, Carol might be his most grand film, even though this is Haynes at his most formal. Carol is focused on gestures, and requires patience—something that falling in love also requires—but pays off immensely as one of the most aching, heartfelt and expertly performed films of the year.Â