Phantom Thread: It may test your patience, but you will fall in love
Very few creators master the art of visual storytelling like Paul Thomas Anderson (The Master, Inherent Vice). In his newest picture, his sense of the movement of the piece proves to be percussive, as if he was a conductor. One gets the feeling that everything captured by the camera was meant to be there; there is nothing off, strident, impertinent or vulgar. Paradoxically, this unparalleled control over the story he is getting across is both what makes the director so irresistible among critics’ circles, and also what keeps him away from seducing larger audiences. But when Phantom Thread sees the union of Daniel Day Lewis’ last, towering performance, and the perfectly polished look of 1950s London – it really is hard to complain.
The movie tells the story of Reynolds Woodcock, a renowned fashion designer whose mastery in the craft of playing with fabric results in eye-popping dresses, for which much of Europe’s socialite women have fallen. To his atelier arrive some of the continent’s most renowned figures, all coming in with an insatiable thirst to feel special – a sensation only he can take them to, with his delicacy and taste. Remarkably enough, this is exactly how you feel observing his tense awareness of something which appears to escape from everybody else: the way he dresses up every morning, and his level of demand over himself and his team, is a pace so suffocating at times that only a real genius could put up with.
The themes running through “Phantom Thread” are varied: from how a virtuoso is unable to fit in a society quickly trading art for fashion, to everybody’s tacit acceptance that he must know better. Yet Anderson’s movie is also an introspection of the inner process whereby a prodigy arrives at inspiration – and this is where “Phantom Thread” shines the most.
The designer only appears to get that magic spur when he is in the presence of women. In the darkness of his country atelier, he takes measurements and comes up with the most stunning set of two-piece designs and long, vaporous dresses. And when his creative genius fails him, Alma comes his way. Her vulnerable and daring nature captivates him. The way she refuses to put up with his whims and vagary, but commits herself to the art of dressing, casts him under a spell. Both initiate an inconceivable relationship, sometimes dysfunctional and others impassioned, whereby they develop a language which only the two of them understand.
And while the film’s creative dimension is rapturously ravishing, its narrative structure will be met with more division. Some people, like me, will find joy in its unexpected turns; in the way Jonny Greenwood’s music washes away any trace of dialogue, and allows a mere gaze between Woodcock and Alma to say it all. Others will be left longing for more. Which side you fall under is something you will have to see for yourself.
For the record, I will simply say that “Phantom Thread” is Paul Thomas Anderson’s pinnacle achievement – and one of this year’s masterpieces. Not wanting to influence you, in any way.