Film Review - Phantom Thread (15)

I'm certain I was never meant to marry. I'm a confirmed bachelor. I'm incurable.

Phantom Thread is the new film by Paul Thomas Anderson, whose 1999 epic of human emotion Magnolia still claims the number-one position on my all-time list of favourite movies. Phantom Thread is also the final film performance (unless he someday changes his mind) of Daniel Day Lewis. In other words, this is an event. It's not to be ignored. It's a film reviewer's must-see. Which doesn't mean I have to unambiguously love it.

Day Lewis plays Reynolds Woodcock, a couturier in 1950s London, who designs bespoke dresses for an elite clientele. Running the business with his all-seeing sister (Lesley Manville), he is an artist and a perfectionist, whose obsessive work ethic plays havoc with any woman who threatens to get close to him. Once the initial thrill of an affair has subsided, the muse in question finds herself surplus to the designer's requirements. Into his life comes gauche but life-embracing waitress Alma (Vicky Krieps), a young woman dazzled by the world of high-end couture and by her sophisticated new lover. But Reynolds' pathological reaction to those who fall in love with him threatens to doom their relationship from the start.

All of this we absorb in the opening twenty minutes, the film devoting the same obsessive attention to character as Reynolds does to his designs. It also revels in the fashion world of post-War London, Anderson taking time to explore the protagonist's resolutely pre-rock-and-roll existence in minute detail. The style is a far cry from Magnolia's swirling camerawork and rapid-fire editing. This is a film about ripples being sent through the calm of one man's fastidiously arranged life, by a force he truly underestimates. Much of the action is internalised, the romance and tidal passions suggested by Jonny Greenwood's compelling and genuinely beautiful classical score.

If this is indeed Day Lewis's swansong, he makes the most of it. Reynolds is as fully realised as any role he has ever played - seductively charming, yet fussy and effete, and totally a man of the fading pre-war era. Every word and action is precisely observed, creating a portrait that both amuses and infuriates. His response when he witnesses the disreputable behaviour of a woman wearing one of his dresses is priceless. 

Thankfully the character does not overwhelm, due to the women in Reynolds' life. Krieps plays Alma with subtle conviction, the girl's spirit gradually asserting itself as she adjusts to her new position in life. And Manville provides a masterclass in understatement as the imperious sister, who manages her brother's eccentricities and affairs (both business and personal) with brisk efficiency and a disapproving eye. The only performance oddity comes from the House of Woodcock's dressmakers, a group of ladies clearly employed for their on-camera couture skills rather than because any of them were trained in acting. 

Exquisite is the word that best describes Phantom Thread as a whole, in everything from its production design to its score to its precision performances. This is all about needle-fine detail rather than sweeping drama, to an extent that might well test some viewers' patience. The plot twists when they come are audacious, however, and it's fascination to watch the path down which Reynolds and Alma take each other. Also who can resist watching Daniel Day Lewis immerse himself in a unique character creation one final time? For that reason alone it deserves watching.

Gut Reaction: Quietly absorbed, particularly by the acting and all the breakfasts on display. And staring at one point late on in complete incredulity.

Where Are the Women?: Both Krieps and Manville have room to shine. And look out for Harriet Sansom Harris (Frasier Crane's deplorable agent Bebe) in a memorable cameo.

Ed's Verdict: 7.5/10. One of those films you maybe admire rather than out-and-out love, Phantom Thread is daringly divisive Anderson and a worthy final bow from Day Lewis. Oh, and it includes some really pretty party frocks.