Torv Hunter

Can we talk about Anna Torv in “Mindhunter?” We should talk about Anna Torv in “Mindhunter.” Now, I’ve been an Anna Torv fan from way, way, wayback. There’s something about her serene yet unrelenting directness that just *shivers in a good way*. In every role she comes across as unquestionably capable.

In the second season of “Mindhunter,” her Dr. Wendy Carr is given less to do on the cases, but more depth in her personal life. After ending it with her dean at Boston University (oh, Lena Olin, we hardly saw thee), she finds a new romance in bartender and all-around hottie Kay.

Kay is as out and free-wheeling as Wendy is closeted and buttoned up. But both women still live within the oppressive societal constrains of early 1980s America. Where as a divorced woman with a child, Kay can’t let her ex-husband know she has a woman over for fear of losing her visitation rights. And as an FBI consultant, Wendy can’t be out to colleagues because they still see homosexuality as a mental deficiency.

Torv’s Wendy has a stoicism that comes from knowing the expectations of female weakness. But by not showing emotion, by remaining unblinkingly still, she seeks to find a level playing field in an endless boys club. Her impassive persona can be seen as a defense mechanism or as her unyielding strength, or both. But she is always fully aware of how she must act in order to keep doing what she loves and what she is brilliant at doing professionally.

She talked with The New York Times about playing such an outwardly unemotional character, saying:

“What I find fascinating is that when you’re an actress, you don’t even realize that the majority of the time you end up carrying the emotional weight of whatever scene you happen to be in. If someone’s going to cry, it’s going to be the girl. If someone is emotional and having a meltdown, it’s going to be the girl. And so you end up getting really good at it. Not even getting good at it — it’s just the expectation, so that’s what your instincts end up honing. All of a sudden to be in the skin of this woman who is just so dry … Anytime I showed a flicker of something, especially in the beginning, David would be like, ‘Please, pull it back.’”

So now it’s fascinating to see, finally, more of the other side of her life. Both her desire, which she can telegraph through That Stare which all gay women know, and her discomfort with being out. In Wendy I think she sees a sort of freedom. But I think it might also scare her. Because there is a vulnerability to being fully yourself with someone else I don’t feel like she is ready for just yet.

But, you know, here I am psychoanalyzing a psychologist from my couch.



So, thoughts? Have you watched? This season was interesting for so many reasons (Spoiler Alert: In addition to the unresolved ending, the personal failings of all three of the main characters was interesting to watch - though I could have done without Trench’s psychopath son...I mean, I could see that one coming and really?), and Anna Torv is at least half of them.