#its about his inability to balance his pride and bravado with his desire to act as caretaker and love and be loved in return

[solosatan]

[movieswithkevin27]

Phantom Thread

A deliciously twisted, shocking, and perversely beautiful work from director Paul Thomas Anderson, the meticulously crafted and detailed Phantom Thread is perhaps Anderson’s most perfect film with nary a flaw in its execution. It is a film where Anderson is in complete control, strictly following the course he has set rather than allowing the film to wander a bit as in the esoteric Inherent Vice. This is a film always building up to its roaring conclusion, dabbling in dullness - purposely - and repetition - purposely - for the purpose of impact. This film about a tailor and clothing designer named Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis) is perhaps one of the more shocking films of the year, setting up a typical romance in which Reynolds is an unending bachelor who kicks women out of his home once he tires of them, all while possessing a charm that always enables him to net a new woman to replace the old one. The new woman this time is the young Alma (Vicky Kreips). Coming into the home and immediately showing she is not another woman who will bend to his every whim, Alma’s presence upsets the balance of power in the home, leaving Reynolds spinning and attempting to adjust. Meanwhile, his sister Cyril (Lesley Manville) is more welcoming of the change, recognizing the great possibility it holds for this regimented and meticulous lifestyle her brother lives. Thematically and narratively twisted, Phantom Thread’s relationship is equal parts beautiful and toxic, which is perhaps what makes the film so confounding, abrasive, and difficult to describe.

At the center of this film is Reynolds Woodcock. As a fashion designer, there are few in the world who are more talented. He is a true visionary, pouring his every heart and soul into the design and execution. He expects the same from those around him, spending his entire day designing or thinking about clothing. His entire life is centered around his work with him entirely unwilling to allow anything to disrupt his regimented and routine lifestyle. Yet, much of this is due to his own immaturity. Early on in the film, Anderson establishes the death of Reynolds’ mother being one of the most defining moments of his life. Having made her a wedding dress and now seeing her in his sleep, Reynolds admits that he feels as though his mother is getting closer to him more now than forever, almost watching over him in a truly comforting way. To this day, he has a lock of her hair in the lining of his clothes, as a means of keeping her close to him at all times. Reynolds is the true embodiment of a man still unable to cope with the loss of their parent, acting as though he were a mama’s boy from beginning to end. Yet, this grief and constant mourning has put him in a spot of constant hurt. He defends himself from feeling attached, lashes out when his routine is disrupted, and expects the world to bend to his every whim as he was both unable to control his mother’s death and his own response to her death. His sister Cyril sees this and has been the one by his side ever since he made his mother that wedding dress so many years ago. For him, Cyril is his rock and guiding light, while being the only one around able to help him maintain a sense of normalcy in his life. If she is not around, he is lost as though he were a child. This immaturity and inability to truly control his life renders Reynolds little more than a manchild, often spiraling into petulant outbursts more fighting for a little boy than one of the world’s most renowned fashion designers. This is a character who is deeply flawed, in large part due to his underlying mental issues that guide his life into one in which he is consistently looking for somebody to help him take control but unwilling to take a chance on losing that person.

This is where Alma comes into his life. Though Reynolds pulls the same stunts with her as with every other woman in her life, as he seeks to control her every action at breakfast and aims to kick her out of the home when he senses that she is upsetting the balance of the home, Cyril will not allow him to exercise this control as before. Rather, she sees what Alma represents. Not only is she a young muse for this experienced and elder statesman of the fashion world, but Alma is the only woman he has been with who understands Reynolds’ mental issues, shares his mental issues, and is willing to stand up to them in a forceful way. Yet, even then, she longs for a bit more than he is willing to give or understand. A dinner for two she plans goes awry when it violates his routine for the day, leaving him all alone with her and forced to eat food in a style he does not enjoy, only leading to an incessant tension in the room that eventually boils over. It is only through this - watching this man refuse to eat his vegetables - that Alma finally learns how to win over this man: she must nurture him and, in effect, become his mother.

Though she purposely makes him ill via mushrooms - alongside John Denver songs, feeding childish men poisonous mushrooms is one of the great trends of cinema in 2017 - she nurses him gingerly back to health. She knocks him on his ass and forces him to see her as his caretaker. She puts herself in a new light, giving him what he has wanted for so long ever since his mother died; as he got his mother back. Alma’s lack of fear even leads to her revealing the poisoning to Reynolds, right as she poisons him a second time. However, he does not fight and even finds great pleasure in being made ill only to be nursed back to health by his new wife. In fact, he only ever married her because of her ability to tap into his burning desire to be cared for and stripped of his defensiveness. He is a man stuck with the mind of a child, always seeking ways to become subservient and weak when confronted with true power. Alma, as such, is the only one who stands up to him. She purposely makes noise at breakfast to break him from his rhythm and focus. She forces him to go out dancing with her. This power balance is one in which she, from the very beginning, usurped him and refused to allow him to regain dominance, in fact taking every opportunity she can find to re-assert her dominance. While Alma may not literally be his mother - even if resurrection existed in the world of the film - the implication of this relationship is set throughout the film. Not only is she convinced that they were meant to find one another no matter any obstacles in their way, but little touches such as calling him a “hungry boy” in the beginning, caring for him, cooking for him, cleaning up his messes, and more, fosters his emotional dependency and plays on his burning desire to be mothered again. For this man whose mother’s death forever changed his life in a negative way, leading him to become rather fear aggressive and defensive at every turn, Alma represents a way to recreate the love and tenderness given to him by his mom. For him, it is as though she was sent to him by his mother as a means of keeping him in line and to help him feel as though his life is under control once again.

This control and power are certainly elements that Reynolds has long sought, not only in his personal life but also in his professional life. For his entire life, he has listened to what women want their dresses to look like and what styles he should use. He exercises some of his creative muscle, but always seeks to feel powerful via making them a beautiful dress. As such, his meticulous planning, brainstorming, drawing, and stitching, all serve as Reynolds’ own way of keeping a measure of control and order to his fractured psyche, as he keeps his mind on the end goal of making a beautiful dress. He is unconcerned with the eventual feedback - even if he listens to their initial wishes - but is unwilling to exert some measure of control or pride in his work. Yet, through Alma this changes. This is a woman who fights for him, sticks up for him, and values his own brand image more than he would ever be able to express. He cares, but is too bashful, reserved, and awkward to be able to fight for himself. Through Alma, however, he is able to express some possessiveness over his designs, even taking away a dress from a woman well beneath his standard of class. This ties in perfectly to his defensiveness - likely derived from his belief he lacks control over his own life - with Alma’s ability to control and assert her dominance leading to this man finally feeling safe, confident, and self-assured. This is yet another piece of this toxic relationship that further fosters his dependency on her, as she gives him something he so long sought after his mom died: the ability to assert himself and feel a sense of control. He was able to simulate it by having Cyril do his bidding or by kicking out women he tired of, but it was no more than false bravado, just as his proclamation that he would never get married was. This is a man lacking direction, only able to have this given to him by a woman who absolutely certain of how to wrap him around her finger.

The odd part about this deeply toxic relationship in Phantom Thread is just how enchanting it can become. It is clear from the very beginning that these two are both on the same wavelength - i.e. both are insane - and somehow meant for one another. As Alma dotes on Reynolds or as Reynolds measures her for a dress on their very first date, the relationship has a certain charm to it that makes it all quite kosher and enchanting. It is undoubtedly Anderson’s intent to accomplish this first before shocking the audience with the toxicity of the relationship and the way in which Alma is able to control Reynolds, but even as a slight misdirection, Phantom Thread manages to create an endearing romance. The key to this romance, of course, being the drive to do whatever it takes to keep the person you love in your life. Knowing his reputation, Alma is always armed and ready for when Reynolds tells her to leave. However, she is stubborn. She refuses to give up on the relationship, always fighting for him to be out of his comfort zone and to push himself beyond the boundaries he has built for himself. She does not want him to be content, but rather always looking to grow. As time progresses, Reynolds winds up doing just this, eventually admitting that one must grow at the risk of dying if they do not when he asks her to marry him. Though Phantom Thread winds up striking a deeply troubling and off-beat dependency between these two characters, it first establishes this pairing as being somehow right for one another. This indefinable connection enables the film’s final shock to truly pack a punch when the audience realizes what is occurring and what will continue to occur.

In conjunction with this romance, Phantom Thread unexpectedly turns into a romantic comedy at times with how funny many of its lines are. Largely due to Daniel Day-Lewis’ dry delivery or the hilarity of watching his facial expressions as Alma makes noise at breakfast, the comedy in Phantom Thread is never upfront, but is noticeable enough that is impossible to not laugh. It comes in a film that is often quite stuffy as a means of breaking up the thickness of the atmosphere, while also providing the audience an opportunity to truly revel in the general absurdity of these characters. Both romantic leads are positively psychotic, but so greatly entertaining that it is impossible to look away. These characters’ everyday conversations, actions, and interactions, therefore wind up taking a great comedic bend that Anderson smartly embraces, delivering great wit - such as Reynolds remarking how they would probably dig up a girl buried in one of his dresses in order to sell it - and simple situational humor that enables the film to truly utilize its off-beat tone and style to deliver consistent entertainment throughout.

Visually, Phantom Thread is as excellent as one would expect from an Anderson film. Utilizing great costume design to capture the extravagance and luxury of Woodcock’s design work, while relying on Anderson’s trademark tracking shots and symmetry - the lushness of the costume design proving to be a great way for Anderson use his love of symmetry in capturing the beauty and elegance of Woodcock's work - for a lot of the film’s best shots, Phantom Thread is a lushly captured film that truly exudes luxury and class. Yet, perhaps the most interesting element of this is the consistent presence of white in the House of Woodcock. At all times, light is pouring in from the windows, helping to cultivate this really heavenly and otherworldly feel to this home in which so much of the action is set. Even in the evening or early morning, the plain white walls of the home and the emphasis on white wedding dress Reynolds made for his mother and the princess in the film seem to hint that this overwhelming presence of white in the film’s visuals is wholly intentional. At the very least, this white is yet another way in which Anderson manages to subvert expectations. By bathing so much of the film in light, it gives off a very warm and comforting feeling to the audience. Yet, in scenes where Alma speaks to the doctor at night about her relationship with Reynolds or as she dotes on him in the darkness of his room, Anderson manages to create a perfect juxtaposition that highlights the dark undercurrent of this relationship. This difference in lighting and the film's plodding pace combine  to enable Anderson to expertly build suspense through the audience's discomfort. At every turn, something feels off with Anderson consistently building visual cues to build up to the final reveal. Furthermore, the film’s score plays perfectly into these expectations as the excellent score from Jonny Greenwood hitting all the right crescendos and emotional swells along the way that further enables Anderson to put the audience in a position where they believe this to be just another artist and his muse romance film. Working in perfect harmony with the visuals, Greenwood’s score is one that absolutely nails the tone and atmosphere of this film.

A twisted, perverse, and deliciously entertaining film, Phantom Thread is yet another great accomplishment for director Paul Thomas Anderson. It is a film that undoubtedly demands multiple watches to truly grasp, but on an initial watch, it is hard to not come away impressed with the psychology at play with the character of Reynolds Woodcock and the way in which this innocent and sheepish Alma can turn into such a figure of dominance. A role reversal - with the boisterous Reynolds subservient to the shy Alma - Anderson manages to play on the audience’s expectations of where the film is going to wind up perfectly, enabling this to be no mere romantic drama with touches of comedy. Rather, it is a film that often plays like a psychological drama, exploring the underlying mother-related issues of this fashion genius and the twisted way in which the woman he loves is able to utilize this to exert control over him. This funny, slow, and absolutely gripping film, truly lingers in the air as the credits roll, leaving the audience to attempt to come to terms with what they just witnessed.  At the end of the day though, this is truly Daniel Day-Lewis, Vicky Kreips, and Lesley Manville's show. Capturing their respective characters flaws, motivations, and demeanors in a way that few actors can, all three truly make this film come alive.