Paul Thomas Anderson – ‘Phantom Thread’
If you ask cinema fans to pick out one Paul Thomas Anderson movie that could be considered his masterpiece, there’s every chance you will receive a myriad of different answers. From Boogie Nights to There Will Be Blood, the American director has enjoyed an incredibly successful career as one of contemporary Hollywood’s most astounding and idiosyncratic filmmakers.
Anderson always manages to squeeze the best out of his actors, with many of his stars giving career-defining performances in his movies. Daniel Day-Lewis is no exception to this rule, presenting two of his most outstanding performances under the direction of Anderson. In return, these movies – There Will Be Blood and Phantom Thread – are arguably Anderson’s finest achievements.
Set in 1950s London, Phantom Thread stars Day-Lewis as the uptight yet dedicated dressmaker Reynolds Woodcock. Obsessed with routine and order, Woodcock pours himself into his work, providing dresses for the upper echelons of society, all while grieving the loss of his mother. However, after visiting a secluded seaside restaurant following a trip to a client’s house, he meets a younger waitress, Alma Elson. A relationship soon develops, leading Alma to take up residence in the Woodcock household, assisting her lover in his creations.
Naturally, Woodcock’s demanding demeanour, clashing with anyone but his sister, Cyril (Lesley Manville), leads to disagreements between him and Alma. However, instead of being put off by her lover’s obsessive and tiring nature, Alma finds his behaviour the perfect challenge. We soon discover that she is not as passive as we – and Woodcock – first thought, and the film captures her ascent to power. By weakening Woodcock through a series of poisonings, she is able to assert her dominance over him, stripping him of the control that he needs to function.
Anderson’s film is the perfect twisted love story, playing with gender roles and exploring what it really means to possess power. The movie analyses toxic masculinity, something Anderson frequently returns to within his work, although his exploration is less than straightforward. Alma’s assertion of power through poison is not necessarily a feminist statement in response to Woodcock’s behaviour, although Anderson certainly seeks to expose male chauvinism through Day-Lewis’ character.
Their story isn’t black-and-white, and Alma’s rise to power doesn’t involve her freeing herself from the shackles of Woodcock’s grip. While Alma weakens him with mushrooms, she simultaneously gives into his ways, doing whatever she can to keep him her own – even if that means shrinking him down. The pair depend on each other – Alma needs Woodcock to give her power, and Woodcock needs Alma to satisfy his (absent mother-related) needs.
The gender politics in Phantom Thread is complicated, but Anderson presents the clash of the sexes with great nuance. Although it would be nice to understand Alma outside of the context of the House of Woodcock, Anderson demonstrates the might of Woodcock’s domineering grip and the falsity of his alluring, slicked-back charm by highlighting Alma’s complete submission to his haute-couture world. Emphasising the influence of high society’s shiny appeal, Anderson depicts a beautiful yet cutthroat world that Alma – who is from a completely different social sphere – forces herself to fit into. Her lack of backstory also allows her to slip into this foreign landscape as a mysterious figure, her intentions unknown to the audience and the characters, making her disruption of order all the more fascinating.
Vicky Krieps’ performance as Alma is fantastic, embodying the naive yet eager young waitress’ metamorphosis into a quietly terrifying figure, enjoying Woodcock’s journey towards submission. Day-Lewis (in his last role before retirement) gives a career-defining performance, presenting his character as harsh and unforgiving but also vulnerable, as best demonstrated when he hallucinates his mother’s ghost while in bed. “I hear your voice say my name when I dream. I just miss you, it’s as simple as that,” he says as he witnesses the phantom woman, giving us a glimpse of Woodcock in his most innocent state.
The movie is easily Anderson’s most visually stunning, from the studied cinematography (conducted mainly by Anderson himself) to the meticulous and luxurious set design. Phantom Thread is opulent but not entirely polished, reflecting the corruption lurking under the sublime surface of society’s upper ranks. Jonny Greenwood’s score cannot go unmentioned either, with pieces like ‘House of Woodcock’ and ‘Sandalwood I’ adding another layer of brilliance to the already stunning film.
Phantom Thread is easily one of Anderson’s most impressive works, relying on subtle moments of action, carefully-crafted sound design (like the buttering toast scene) and dialogue to explore power and obsession. In doing so, Phantom Thread leaves you speechless, pondering the complexities of the pair’s relationship.
The characters are full of contradictions – Alma is both kind and unforgiving, passionate and cruel, and Woodcock is a menacing control freak who misses his mother more than anything. Krieps and Day-Lewis bring these multitudinous characters to life with incredibly detailed performances. However, Anderson’s impeccable direction leads the film to such incredible heights that it wouldn’t be unfair to call the 2017 release a modern masterpiece.
