That film, and this one, makes the case for love as a form of mutually assured destruction -- where two people feed off of each other's eccentricities even when it could put their lives in physical danger.
Anderson, who has for many years been in a relationship with actress Maya Rudolph is incapable of making a straightforward, traditional movie, and his Phantom Thread, which had all the trappings of a period drama, is spiked with acidic humor and a narrative that doesn't really sink in until its last act.
It's biggest attraction is actor Daniel Day-Lewis, following up on his last appearance in an Anderson film -- They Will Be Blood -- with another monstrously egotistical control freak character. However, unlike his sonorous, madly paranoid Daniel Plainview, his role here -- as in-demand fashion designer Reynolds Woodcock -- is a much more pathetic, tragically comic figure.Woodcock, we come to understand, periodically takes on lovers only to eschew them when they start expecting him to be a normal, giving partner. His house (and his life) is fastidiously micro-managed by his prim sister (played exceptionally well by Lesley Manville) and his every whim and temper tantrum is indulged in service of his impeccable art.
Into his hermetically sealed world steps a seemingly shy waitress named Alma -- played by Vicky Krieps in a star-making performance -- who quickly becomes the object of his affection and his muse.
From the very start, Woodcock treats Alma with a patronizing condescension which is both creepy and infuriating -- and understandably their relationship has drawn the ire of some who see this film as a tone deaf delivery amid the Time's Up movement.
But the film's period setting and the complex, nuanced characterization of its leads suggest this film is far more sophisticated than your average, lazy May-December romance.
Alma turns out to be far more wily and powerful character than she initially seems and as Woodcock devolves into an increasingly comic figure of hopeless petulance, she becomes stronger and nearly steals the film away from him. If she weren't such an unknown, the Luxemborgian Krieps would be a shoo-in for a Best Actress Oscar nomination.
Still, this is Day-Lewis' show. It's his first screen appearance since his Oscar-winning turn in Lincoln six years ago, and he doesn't miss a step. His every gesture is a symphony of perfectly-calibrated acting. He can do so much with just a look, or a shift in his posture. The whole performance is a delicate slow burn, and when he erupts its both invigorating and illuminating.
If this has to be his farewell from acting -- and I'm on record wishing that it won't be -- it is a fitting one, because it feels like the culmination of all the great work he's done -- especially in the last several years. He has become such a master craftsman that watching him play a role is like watching a virtuoso musician play their instrument for two hours straight.
And Paul Thomas Anderson, who for me has never made a single major misstep as a director (I had quibbles with The Master, but appreciate its wit and insight), shows here yet again that he is one of the most exciting filmmakers working today, hands down.
He's never really had a major commercial success, and his films are hard to sell in an elevator pitch, but he consistently gets some of the best performances out of actors, his films look great and they haunt you long after the credits have rolled. It's impossible to see an Anderson film and not feel some type of way about it when it's finished. He definitely knows how to provoke an audience.
With Phantom Thread, which is set in 1950s couture London, he will likely yet again not connect with mainstream audiences, and maybe even some arthouse ones. The film definitely takes a big narrative leap and isn't necessarily interested in presenting you with characters you can identify with or root for. But he is giving you a lot to chew on, and that's all I want from a movie these days.
No comments:
Post a Comment