Writer-director Paul Thomas Anderson has created a movie with sumptuous style as its language. He has also created a 1950s British dress designer of haute couture, Reynolds Woodcock, played by Daniel Day-Lewis in what he says is his farewell acting display, who is a self-centered tyrant. His design of a dress for royalty must achieve perfection, but as a person he is a royal pain in the ass and impossible to live with. Anyone wanting to be his mistress or wife would have to have a masochistic streak in being willing to suffer his whims and vicious temper tantrums.
The part, of course, is designer-made for actor Day-Lewis, who captures every aspect of Woodcock and his wicked personality. The story built around the character and artistry in the world of fashion is filmed with visual splendor. There is meticulous attention to detail with fabulous looking dresses created by the master and stitched by a large staff laboring against deadlines in the London mansion that is both Woodcock’s workplace and residence.
The plot takes hold when Woodcock is smitten by Alma, a waitress from Luxembourg played with remarkable effectiveness by Vicky Krieps. She becomes his model and muse, as he imports her into his home. Alma is no shrinking violet. She is determined to become his controller and wife, and she slyly and sexily sets about her scheme. The task is not easy. Woodcock likes everything just right, from the way meals are prepared to the way his every command is respected and obeyed, and he is firm in his desire to be mostly left alone, apart from occasional forays into his version of intimacy.
There is also Woodcock’s sister Cyril, portrayed with an icy chill by Lesley Manville, who is a business partner and overseer. She is totally disapproving of Alma, and there are scenes in which if the looks that Manville delivers could kill, Alma would quickly become a corpse.
The ups and downs in the relationship between Woodcock and Alma, including her conniving and his outbursts, sometimes with affection, other tines with cruelty, but always with excellent acting on both their parts, constitute much of the film.
My problem in sitting through “Phantom Thread,” which is visually seductive, is that Woodcock is such a dislikable bastard that watching his behavior becomes a chore. It’s more interesting to watch Alma, not for her character, but because of Krieps’s performance. There is hollowness to the screenplay despite the skill with which the film is directed by Anderson, and the ending leaves one feeling that the future will hold just more of the same.
One thought you might come away with: Beware when eating mushrooms. A Focus Features release. Reviewed December 30, 2017.