Feral Carol in peril
Wednesday, October 15, 2025
A good psychological horror film should take you deep into the disturbed mind of one or more of its characters. Repulsion, the 1965 film by Roman Polanski, checks that box better than practically any other work in this subgenre. Starring Catherine Deneuve, the narrative revolves around Carol, a beautiful but emotionally fragile young single woman living in London. Left alone in her sister’s apartment while her sister is away, she gradually descends into a terrifying state of mental instability. Isolated and haunted by repressed desires, paranoia, and hallucinations, Carol begins to experience disturbing visions and violent impulses, ultimately blurring the line between reality and madness. The film also features Ian Hendry as Carol’s suitor, Michael, and Yvonne Furneaux as her sister, Helen.
One of the most striking aspects of this movie is how minimalistic and sparse it is. The plot is threadbare, yet the film leaves a lasting impression through its intense atmosphere and psychological depth. Designed as a simple black-and-white, low-budget picture, it relies on mood and technique rather than visual frills, gimmicks, or special effects. Polanski demonstrates mastery in constructing suspense and an unsettling mood through a brilliant combination of cinematic tools.
Sound and music play a crucial role in Repulsion, functioning almost as a collective character in its own right. The film’s audio design is remarkably clever, using elements such as bells, drumbeats reminiscent of an executioner’s march, an orgasmic cacophony, clocks ticking, and taps dripping. Extended moments of eerie silence are often abruptly interrupted by shocking sounds or sudden bursts of music, heightening tension and disorientation. Consider how stillness and quiet are juxtaposed with sudden violence or intense sound, creating a disturbing rhythm that lingers with the viewer.
Polanski employs creative camera work, including unsteady handheld shots following Carol as she moves, extreme close-ups of distorted or ugly faces, and fisheye lens shots to convey her growing anxiety. Quiet, drawn-out fades transition between scenes, while distorted sets reflect Carol’s unhinged state of mind.
His direction in Repulsion has frequently been described as “Hitchcockian,” and there are numerous references in this film to works by the Master of Suspense. The opening credit sequence recalls the stylized credits of Vertigo and the close-up of Marion Crane’s dead eye in Psycho. Arguably, Carol bears a resemblance to James Stewart’s isolated character Jeff in Rear Window, as both are solitary figures navigating urban spaces with skewed perceptions of the world around them. Polanski also casts a beautiful blonde, echoing the archetypal female leads in many Hitchcock films. Furthermore, Polanski’s brief cameo in Repulsion mirrors Hitchcock’s tradition of appearing in his own movies.
In tone, subject matter, and suspense-building, Repulsion is comparable to that granddaddy of slasher films, featuring claustrophobic, lonely settings where trespassers meet violent ends. Yet Repulsion diverges from Psycho in significant ways. While the latter presents killing and its aftermath from the perspective of victims and survivors, Repulsion immerses the audience in a subjective experience of murder and madness through the eyes of a disturbed soul. Unlike Psycho, it does not offer simple Freudian explanations or psychobabble to rationalize Carol’s psychoses. Polanski’s film also blurs the line between reality and hallucination, leaving the viewer uncertain whether the events depicted are truly happening or merely exist in Carol’s mind.
Thematic exploration in Repulsion is rich and multifaceted. Alienation, isolation, and confinement pervade Carol’s experience, as does irrational paranoia. The film examines violation and the crossing of societal boundaries, a recurring element in Polanski’s work. Carol embodies the outsider attempting to defend herself from external – or perhaps internal – threats. Clad in white and angelically beautiful, she represents purity, while her apartment symbolizes both her virginity and fractured psyche. The narrative underscores her struggles with sexual repression, exemplified by the rotting meat of the rabbit, a symbol of reproduction.
Carol is also depicted as a foreigner in an unfamiliar city, potentially grappling with her sexual identity and living in a socially conservative community, as illustrated by a threatening phone call she receives. The film emphasizes the pressures from organized religion to conform to traditional roles of mating and family, and it draws interesting parallels between sex and religion through the juxtaposition of erotic sounds and church bells.
Repulsion also masterfully examines the blurring of fantasy and reality: We’re not sure of the verity of any of the incidents we see. Did they really happen, or is Carol yet another unreliable narrator whose nightmarish visions ultimately consume her?
To listen to a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of Repulsion, conducted last week, click here (if you get an error message, simply try refreshing the page).
One of the most striking aspects of this movie is how minimalistic and sparse it is. The plot is threadbare, yet the film leaves a lasting impression through its intense atmosphere and psychological depth. Designed as a simple black-and-white, low-budget picture, it relies on mood and technique rather than visual frills, gimmicks, or special effects. Polanski demonstrates mastery in constructing suspense and an unsettling mood through a brilliant combination of cinematic tools.
Sound and music play a crucial role in Repulsion, functioning almost as a collective character in its own right. The film’s audio design is remarkably clever, using elements such as bells, drumbeats reminiscent of an executioner’s march, an orgasmic cacophony, clocks ticking, and taps dripping. Extended moments of eerie silence are often abruptly interrupted by shocking sounds or sudden bursts of music, heightening tension and disorientation. Consider how stillness and quiet are juxtaposed with sudden violence or intense sound, creating a disturbing rhythm that lingers with the viewer.
Polanski employs creative camera work, including unsteady handheld shots following Carol as she moves, extreme close-ups of distorted or ugly faces, and fisheye lens shots to convey her growing anxiety. Quiet, drawn-out fades transition between scenes, while distorted sets reflect Carol’s unhinged state of mind.
His direction in Repulsion has frequently been described as “Hitchcockian,” and there are numerous references in this film to works by the Master of Suspense. The opening credit sequence recalls the stylized credits of Vertigo and the close-up of Marion Crane’s dead eye in Psycho. Arguably, Carol bears a resemblance to James Stewart’s isolated character Jeff in Rear Window, as both are solitary figures navigating urban spaces with skewed perceptions of the world around them. Polanski also casts a beautiful blonde, echoing the archetypal female leads in many Hitchcock films. Furthermore, Polanski’s brief cameo in Repulsion mirrors Hitchcock’s tradition of appearing in his own movies.
In tone, subject matter, and suspense-building, Repulsion is comparable to that granddaddy of slasher films, featuring claustrophobic, lonely settings where trespassers meet violent ends. Yet Repulsion diverges from Psycho in significant ways. While the latter presents killing and its aftermath from the perspective of victims and survivors, Repulsion immerses the audience in a subjective experience of murder and madness through the eyes of a disturbed soul. Unlike Psycho, it does not offer simple Freudian explanations or psychobabble to rationalize Carol’s psychoses. Polanski’s film also blurs the line between reality and hallucination, leaving the viewer uncertain whether the events depicted are truly happening or merely exist in Carol’s mind.
Thematic exploration in Repulsion is rich and multifaceted. Alienation, isolation, and confinement pervade Carol’s experience, as does irrational paranoia. The film examines violation and the crossing of societal boundaries, a recurring element in Polanski’s work. Carol embodies the outsider attempting to defend herself from external – or perhaps internal – threats. Clad in white and angelically beautiful, she represents purity, while her apartment symbolizes both her virginity and fractured psyche. The narrative underscores her struggles with sexual repression, exemplified by the rotting meat of the rabbit, a symbol of reproduction.
Carol is also depicted as a foreigner in an unfamiliar city, potentially grappling with her sexual identity and living in a socially conservative community, as illustrated by a threatening phone call she receives. The film emphasizes the pressures from organized religion to conform to traditional roles of mating and family, and it draws interesting parallels between sex and religion through the juxtaposition of erotic sounds and church bells.
Repulsion also masterfully examines the blurring of fantasy and reality: We’re not sure of the verity of any of the incidents we see. Did they really happen, or is Carol yet another unreliable narrator whose nightmarish visions ultimately consume her?
Similar works
- An Andalusian Dog (1929, Luis Buñuel)
- Cat People (1942, Jacques Tourneur)
- I Walked with a Zombie (1943, Jacques Tourneur)
- Beauty and the Beast (1946, Jean Cocteau)
- The Lost Weekend (1945, Billy Wilder)
- Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1976, Chantal Akerman)
- The Shining (1980, Stanley Kubrick)
- A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984, Wes Craven)
- Clean, Shaven (1994, Lodge Kerrigan)
- Antichrist (2009, Lars von Trier)
Other works by Roman Polanski
- Knife in the Water (1962)
- Rosemary’s Baby (1968)
- Chinatown (1974)
- The Tenant (1976)
- Tess (1979)
- The Pianist (2002)