‘Phantom Thread’: Jonny Greenwood’s greatest score
As a teenager, my rather predictable fascination with Radiohead led me towards Jonny Greenwood’s film scores. I was just getting properly into cinema when I came across Bodysong, his soundtrack for the 2003 film of the same name, and I became utterly obsessed with his bizarre blend of cinematic orchestrals, jazz, and experimental composition. I’ve still not seen the film, but I’ve played that record countless times, soaking up its equal amount of chaos and beauty.
As the years went by, I continued to listen to Greenwood’s scores whenever I needed instrumental music, and for a time it was There Will Be Blood that became my next obsession. With its dark and brooding strings which are immediately introduced on ‘Open Spaces’, I was captivated by the haunting world that Greenwood evoked, which perfectly fit Paul Thomas Anderson’s terrifying tale of capitalist greed and deception.
The pair have become close collaborators, with Greenwood going on to score four more PTA movies, as well as acclaimed works from other filmmakers like Spencer and The Power of the Dog. In 2017, Greenwood released the score for Phantom Thread, Anderson’s fashion-forward drama about an uptight designer whose relationship with a waitress named Alma devolves into a toxic story of control, and I was instantly hooked. With Daniel Day-Lewis as the pretentious Reynolds Woodcock and Vicky Krieps as the increasingly feisty Alma, the pair make for an unusual couple, and as the power imbalance in their relationship shifts, Greenwood’s score makes for the most intoxicating accompaniment.
Phantom Thread now stands among my list of favourite movies (I’ve even visited the hotel in which Reynolds and Alma first meet), and hearing Greenwood’s score instantly transports me to the film’s opulent world of gorgeous couture, where darkness lingers just under the surface. The film rips this beautiful snapshot in time at the seams, revealing obsession, control, and domination, and Greenwood’s soundtrack is equal parts haunting, sumptuous, romantic, saddening, unnerving and cunning. It’s one that I’ve always come back to – no matter the mood I’m in, there’s always something about the score that will make me feel something, whether that be elation or sorrow.
The score opens with the startlingly beautiful ‘Phantom Thread I’, which balances romance with an uneasy sense of dread. Greenwood teases the film’s dark turn from the beginning, but it’s contrasted with a heavy dose of longing and tenderness. This theme continues with cuts like ‘The Hem’ and ‘Boletus Felleus’, where Greenwood creates a dichotomy between light and dark with gentle strings and ominous undertones.
Then there’s the tracks that are simply euphoric in their gorgeousness, like ‘Sandalwood I’, in which the strings and pianos swoop and swirl with a lightness of air, while ‘House of Woodcock’ possesses a magical quality, seemingly embodying the feeling of falling in love. The score moves between these dreamy moments and more tense numbers with ease, and each composition fits perfectly into the film.
With its luxurious cinematography, shot by Anderson himself, the film presents a high-class world where Reynolds must deal with the pressure of running a successful business designing dresses for the best of the best, while reckoning with grief for his late mother. He’s a hard man to be around, getting easily irritated by others and expressing very anal tendencies, but he ultimately represents a world that Alma – who has gone from working in a restaurant following her move to England, to living in Reynolds’ high society – never had access to before.
Thus, the score that accompanies Alma’s entrance into this foreign world is as dreamy as the luxurious fabrics wrapped around her body, yet it is simultaneously undercut with the innate sadness and alienation that she experiences. It’s the perfect balance of beauty and instability, which is why it remains Greenwood’s most accomplished and enduring score.
