PHANTOM THREAD

There was a distinct demarcation between Paul Thomas Anderson's early films like Hard Eight, Boogie Nights, Magnolia & Punch Drunk Love and the seismic shift in style and tone that presented itself with There Will Be Blood. As if made by a different filmmaker, that film showed a tone and style that seemed to belong to another era of filmmaking. 

Daniel Day Lewis transformed himself for There Will Be Blood, creating a performance that would win him the Academy Award for Best Actor that year. Anderson's follow-up to that film was The Master, showcasing the last truly great performance by Phillip Seymour Hoffman, that film took a nuanced look at the formation of a new religion (based on Scientology) and its psychological and philosophical treatments offered to its followers. When a PTSD suffering WW2 veteran Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) happens across Hoffman's Lancaster Dodd, he becomes a test subject of sorts, for the deluded and self-aggrandising Dodd to implement his treatments upon and 'cure'.

Again, with his collaborator Daniel Day Lewis in the lead, Anderson's new film explores the world of Haute couture in 1950's London. Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day Lewis) and his sister Cyril (Lesley Manville) maintain the rigid daily rituals and fetishistic detailing required for the preparation and construction of expensive fashion for the love of demanding and high-paying clientele. Into this world of immaculately starched collars, cravats, silent breakfasts and laser-focused obsession, comes Alma (Vicky Krieps) a waitress that Reynolds deigns to direct his white-hot light of obsession at. She eventually starts to worm her way into his life, his heart at which point he then struggles to find a niche she can occupy within his life that won't upset the rigorous balance he maintains. 

Some reviewers have been referring to this films portrayal of 'toxic masculinity' however that's a poor reading of exactly what makes Woodcock tick. He's decidedly un-masculine and abdicates his emotional responsibilities. He's a man-child: indulged, placated and tolerated by his sister Cyril who ensures that those surrounding Reynolds - and those involved in his daily routine - never pierce the bubble of infantalising tolerance that Cyril bestows upon her brother, largely to make it easier for her to control him.

Ultimately, Anderson's follow-up to his hilarious & enjoyable (though largely audience-alienating) Inherent Vice is possibly one of his most focused and crystalline works yet. A singular 'three-hander' that pin-points the collateral damage affecting those who love the 'obsessed artist', who pander to their whims and struggle to earn priority and sustain a place within their world. Johnny Greenwood's rich, evocative score signals Woodcock's romantic infatuation with Alma (because that's what he believes it to be) though the film itself never feels swept away by anything other than the sheer dominating obsessiveness of Woodcock. It's a tightly wound, stayed, constricted - and stunning - masterpiece.