A phenomenally fucked-up romantic comedy, Phantom Thread manages to be pitch-black funny and profoundly disconcerting, sometimes within the same scene. Novelistic, mean, and funny, Paul Thomas Andersonâs latest is unlike anything else out there, and itâs great. At least, I thought so? As the end credits rolled, a distressed lady in front of me huffed out, declaring, âWell, thatâs not the kind of love I like.â
Fair enough, lady! But thereâs more truth in Phantom Threadâs loveâa kind of love thatâs as unavoidable as it is frightening and co-dependentâthan in most feel-good filmsâ soulless romances. Phantom Threadâs love is between renowned dressmaker Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis) and the significantly younger Alma (Vicky Krieps), a waitress Woodcock hastily claims as his muse, model, and lover. Woodcock can be charming, but heâs also a colossal assholeâcasually cruel, obsessively prim, and ready to lose his shit when things arenât exactly to his liking. The clever, hopeful Alma is bewildered about howâand ifâshe should tolerate a man who uses his genius as an excuse for his shittiness. Alma has other challenges, too, from Woodcockâs very close relationship with his terrifying sister (Lesley Manville) to the prancing parade of princesses and socialites who covet Woodcockâs jaw-dropping dresses.
The last time Day-Lewis and Anderson worked together was on There Will Be Blood, and with Woodcock, Day-Lewisâin whatâs reportedly his final performanceâcreates a character as strange, intense, and riveting as Daniel Plainview. (Of course Day-Lewis amazing; Day-Lewis is always so amazing that his amazingness is almost boring.) But Phantom Thread turns out to be Almaâs story, and Krieps not only to goes toe-to-toe with Day-Lewis, but brings sly wit and some legitimately shocking turns to a story that might otherwise fester in cynicism. Anderson bathes many of Woodcockâs scenes in cool, sterile daylight, but Alma is more at home in the soft, ominous glow of a fire; all the while, Jonny Greenwoodâs sometimes elegant, sometimes jarring score melds into Schubert and Brahms.
Early on, Woodcock warns Alma that heâs not the marrying kind. âI think itâs the expectations and assumptions of others that cause heartache,â he mansplains, and yeah, true. But Alma is smarter than that: She knows thereâs no avoiding loveâjust as thereâs no avoiding the brutal heartache and stomach-churning pain that inevitably come with it.