Carol is complicated. Outwardly, it's a retro-drama about forbidden love between two women in the 1950s. Underneath, it's looking at the more complex and intriguing world of human connection. It's sexy yet proper; it's delicate yet strong; it's romantic yet haunting; a picturesquely shot period-piece that stuns with its beauty, both visually and aurally (the score is mesmerizing). So with all the technical perfection, why did I find it to be the most critically overrated movie of 2015? Despite its unendingly admirable skill, it left me unsatisfied and, worse yet, emotionally confused. Mara plays a naïve young woman spellbound and emotionally seduced by Blanchett's broken and mesmerizing Carol, a woman who seems to have a "There's-Something-About-Carol"-esque effect on everyone she meets. Both actresses are as phenomenal as you've probably heard, but our relationship to them is nearly as frustrating as their relationship is to each other. In a terribly confused bit of story framing, we meet them at the end of their relationship before going back to the beginning, as we watch the sheepishly sweet Mara get emotionally destroyed by the almost predatory Blanchett. This would be fine, except the movie itself doesn't seem to be wrongly convinced that Carol is ultimately a "good" person, giving her too many chances to plead her selfish case. Herein lies the complication: despite these flaws, it's a visually gorgeous and thematically interesting film. Director Haynes creates a hazy atmosphere in his perfect Christmas setting, highlighting the similarities between its titular character and the holiday season's preposterous promises. Unfortunately these noble positives couldn't mask my overwhelming sense that Carol was less-than-noble in its own messaging.