4 stars out of 5
Upon first seeing the trailer, I must admit I wasn’t too excited to see this. I often avoid period pieces — and I had no idea when this was set; upper-class England could be the 19th, 20th, or 21st century — and as anyone who’s ever looked at me could confirm, fashion ain’t my bag. But Paul Thomas Anderson is one of my favorite writer/directors, and hey, maybe Daniel Day-Lewis will actually stay retired.
I’m glad I overcame my hesitance, because Phantom Thread is an excellent film. Apparently it’s set in 1950s London, though even while sitting in the theater I was guessing the 1920s. Day-Lewis is sought-after dress designer Reynolds Woodcock. He’s a particular and peculiar fellow, obsessed with his late mother, who he’s found a surrogate for in his sister/right-hand woman Cyril (Lesley Manville), a.k.a. “you old so-and-so.” She humors him, babies him, protects him from the distractions of the outside world, and takes care of the messy business, such as “firing” the latest lover he’s lost interest in. For Woodcock is married to his work.
But Reynolds can also turn on the charm, as he does with his wealthy clientele, and the waitress at a country inn, fresh-faced Alma (Vicky Krieps). Reynolds courts her by — of course — making her a dress; the act of fitting the garment taking on a true sexual charge. And soon Alma is whisked to London to become a member of the House of Woodcock. Early on she realizes that the specter of Cyril hangs over the relationship. Alma must learn to manage the situation, including Reynolds’ quirks and bouts of coldness and nastiness, if she is to survive in the household or else become another ex-lover with a haute couture gown as parting gift.
Ah, but Alma is no shrinking violet — to wit, she’s a spanner in the works! Alma has a mind of her own and is unwilling to accept all of Woodcock’s shit. Can she win him over? Will he break her down? Or can she break him down?
It’s a fascinating dynamic, as we watch the relationship slowly evolve, for better or for worse (we’re never entirely sure). And the performances are brilliant. Day-Lewis is once again “all in” as this upper-class odd bird; I fully expect him to win Best Actor. Krieps looks like Julianne Moore with a dash of Drew Barrymore. Alma’s accent — we don’t know from where, though the actress is from Luxembourg — sets her even further outside Woodcock’s exclusive world. The character is alternately charmed, smitten, frustrated, angry, sad, resigned, resentful, and determined, and Krieps makes it all seem totally natural. Manville may walk away with the Supporting Actress award. She navigates Cyril through clipped efficiency and ranks-closing, then emits glimmers of compassion and stands up for herself, Alma’s feisty spirit beginning to rub off a bit.
As always, ol’ P.T. Anderson gets to have some fun. For example, the usually closely controlled Woodcock loves to drive really fast, and the director makes these sequences positively thrilling. Later, a dinnertime argument between Reynolds and Alma rivals the intensity of Anderson’s breathtaking jailhouse confrontation in The Master. If there was an Oscar for Best Scene, this could very well prove victorious. And, without giving anything away, Anderson weaves some twisted elements into the script. This ain’t your mama’s costume drama.
Jack Silbert, curator