Phantom Thread

Frank J. Avella READ TIME: 3 MIN.

Paul Thomas Anderson, like his mentor Robert Altman, loves to immerse himself into the world of the latest thought, idea or premise that has captured his imagination and allow it to wholly seduce him. And, again, like the work of his hero, this infatuation usually manifests in a cinematic experience that is quite personal as well as alluring and enveloping (and, also, alienating to those who demand their films unspool in some traditional manner).

Anderson's best works -- "Boogie Nights," "There Will Be Blood," "Magnolia" and "The Master" (and he's only directed eight feature films including this one) -- take the audience into atypical storytelling territory and submerge the viewer in a spellbinding tapestry brimming with compelling characters and a narrative that does justice to each, now irresistible (thanks to Anderson's attention to detail), milieu. Altman did the same in the seminal films "Nashville," "McCabe and Mrs. Miller," "Gosford Park," and a host of other gems.

The true American auteur's latest fascination is that of the extreme and often perverse notions of desire, obsession, domination, submission -- basically, all the ingredients that make up a relationship. Anderson is interested in what bonds people together. He isn't afraid to examine the fetishes, the role-play, the kink.

In "Phantom Thread" he pays tribute to another master, Hitchcock, by presenting the film as a suspense thriller with a twisted love story at its center.

Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis) is an eccentric titan in the 1950s London fashion world; a perfectionist who is well respected and whose work is adored. He is also a craftsman who takes his job very seriously and is very idiosyncratic and meticulous in the way he works. Reynolds' commanding sister, Cyril (Lesley Manville), keeps his home and his business running quite efficiently, and that also includes his revolving-door love life, which is akin to a use-and-discard system. That is until Reynolds becomes smitten with Alma (Vicky Krieps), a seashore hotel waitress who begins to disrupt the well-oiled machinations of his everyday existence.

I do not want to go into more plot detail since a huge part of the thrill of experiencing "Phantom Thread" lies in allowing the scenes to unfold before your eyes. I will say that a particular plot development is utterly and devilishly preposterous, and yet fits brilliantly to the story and will have you chatting incessantly afterward with whomever you see this film (I implore you do not see it alone).

There aren't enough superlatives to toss at Daniel Day-Lewis. He's simply a hypnotic marvel to behold onscreen. He's a true chameleon, giving each role his all. This may be one of the reasons for his retiring from acting -- perhaps it's taken too much out of him. Peter O'Toole, another screen icon, used to speak of how acting took "a lot of puff." Regardless, this performance is no less a triumph and easily the best male performance onscreen this year.

The astoundingly gifted Manville, an often-overlooked thesp, matches DD-L tit for tat, and in one particularly riveting moment, astonished by her brother's antagonism, calmly lacerates, "Don't pick a fight with me, you certainly won't come out alive."

Krieps is quite the find, wicked and daring, loving and dastardly. I had a love/loathe relationship with the character, which means she nailed it.

As always, Anderson has hired the best tech artists, beginning with the genius Jonny Greenwood, who composes a score that sets just the right anxiety-ridden mood throughout. Mark Bridges costumes are exquisite. Mark Tildesley's production design, sumptuous and the cinematography stunning (Anderson, uncredited, is responsible). It's all period perfect and decidedly cold and misanthropic, like the main character.

So, an exacting perfectionist makes a feature about an exacting perfectionist who may or may not be tamed by something sinister (that I won't give away). I wonder how much we can read into this, autobiographically?

"Phantom Thread" had me praying. My prayer is that Anderson is once again inspired by a unique and mesmeric moment/idea/story and sends it to Day-Lewis, who puts down whatever new thing he is doing to challenge himself and agrees to come back to the craft he's so elevated just one more time.


by Frank J. Avella

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