El hilo invisible

The alleged acting swan-song of Daniel Day-Lewis ("Lincoln") sees him deliver a brilliantly intense portrayal of a maestro in his craft with all the quirks and egotistical faults that come with that position.

Reynolds Woodcock is the craftsman behind a world-renowned 1950's fashion house, in demand from the elite classes and even royalty. He has a magnetic personality, is overtly self-confident, obsessive, a cruel bully and treats his girlfriends as chattels that he can tire of and dismiss from his life without a backward glance. Trying to keep the business and Reynolds on track, with ruthless efficiency, is his sister Cyril (Leslie Manville, "Maleficent").

Looking for his next conquest during a trip to his seaside residence, he reels in blushing young waitress Alma (Vicky Krieps, "The Colony"). But he gets more than he bargains for.

This is a really exquisite and gentle film. Aside from some dubious fungi-related practices, there is no violence, no sex and - aside from about half a dozen well-chosen F-words - limited swearing (of which more below). This is a study of the developing relationship between the two protagonists, with little in the way of plot. Sounds dull? Far from it. This is two hours that flew by.

What it also features is (yet) another example of extremely strong women asserting their power. A scene (well trailed in Manville's award snippets) where Cyril firmly puts Reynolds back in his box is brilliant: a real turning of tables with Woodcock meekly falling into line. And Alma makes for an incredibly rich and complicated character, one of the most interesting female roles I've seen this year so far.

It's a stellar acting performance from Day-Lewis, and while Oldman fully deserves all of his award kudos for "Darkest Hour", Day-Lewis delivers the goods without any of the make-up. It feels like Day-Lewis is a long way down the betting odds this year because "he always gets one". He certainly gets my vote ahead of all of the other three nominees.

Kreips - not an actress I know - also brilliantly holds her own, and if it wasn't such a strong female field this year she could well have been nominated.

Also worthy of note is the pervasive piano score by (suprisingly) Radiohead's Jonny Greenwood. It's really lovely and counterpoints the rest of the classical score nicely. Its BAFTA and Oscar nominations are both well deserved (though I would expect the Oscar to follow the BAFTA steer with "The Shape of Water").

All in all, this is a real tour de force by writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson ("Inherent Vice", "There Will Be Blood"). How much I enjoyed this film was a surprise to me, since I have no interest in the "fashion industry" (as my family will no doubt be quick to point out!) and I went to see this more out of 'duty' based on its Oscar buzz than because I really wanted to see it.

The big curiosity is why exactly the BBFC decided that this film was worthy of a 15 certificate rather than a 12A. Their comments on the film say "There is strong language ('f**k'), as well as milder terms including 'bloody' and 'hell'. Other issues include mild sex references and scenes of emotional upset. In one scene, a woman's nipples are visible through her slip while she is measured for a dress." For a 12A, the board say "The use of strong language (for example, 'f***') must be infrequent". I didn't count the f-words... but as I said I don't think it amounts to more than a half-dozen. Is that "frequent"? And - SHOCK, HORROR... visible covered nipples you say?! Lock up your teenagers! When you look at the gentleness of this film versus the violence within "Black Panther", you have to question this disparity.

PHANTOM THREAD just annihilated me. It's completely worthy of all the immense hype (such as, most cinephiles considering it the best film of 2017). It grows and builds in as organic a manner that a film possibly can. At first, I wasn't sure how I felt - I needed to get to know the characters, then, through most of the movie, I was cracking up at all the tension and the misery between them, then, by the last 10 minutes, I was in tears - a flow of tears which increased each minute as I processed the power and uniqueness and realness of what I had just witnessed. They were "profound" tears. I don't know that I've ever seen a movie that so tastefully glamorizes the toxicity of love. The poison that so many of us romanticize, the poison that we NEED in our lives. There are two types of people in the world: people who feel at home in perfectly "healthy" relationships, and then there's the rest of us. This film is for the rest of us. It stands in a league of it's own. I could never have expected the conclusion - the way that the ribbon is tied, the way the final thread is sewn. It hit me like a bag of bricks. It is all of the pain in love and all of the beauty, all at once. I have never seen this story told before. It's completely original, and completely shattering. The three leads are absolutely astonishing - Daniel Day Lewis and Lesley Manville are terrifying - Vicky Krieps is the most real. The writing and directing is impeccable - P.T. Anderson's legacy continues, it's fire burning brighter than ever. Yes, this is a masterpiece. I am dead.

In early 1950's Britain, Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis) is the most sought-after dress designer among the rich and powerful. He lives a regimented, almost monastic life, with his watchful sister Cyril (Lesley Manville) as his close associate. One day Reynolds meets waitress Alma (Vicky Krieps) and takes her on as his muse, model, lover, whatever he needs. Alma learns that she's not the first to fill this position in Reynolds' life, but she becomes determined to be the last.

I could care less about the fashion world or Haute Couture, and yet I still was drawn into the single-minded obsessive artistry of Reynolds' world, his strict discipline and pursuit of perfection within his chosen field. Alma acts as an audience surrogate, unsure of this odd world led by the often inscrutable Reynolds and Cyril, the latter of whom often has the charm of an asp. But as Alma begins to see the way things work in this cloistered, rarefied world, she begins to find ways to upset it and bend it to her advantage. Cyril is naturally distrusting of this latest distraction, but Reynolds seems to find something in this new, shaky lifestyle of uncertainty.

The performances are fantastic, with Day-Lewis once laying claim to the title of greatest actor of his generation. He complex, unique yet very real, without a single false note. Manville was also singled out for awards consideration, and she's scary, pitiful, powerful, and voice for order and tradition. Vicky Krieps, a native of Luxembourg, is subtle, sharp, and a match for Day-Lewis as the seemingly simple, unworldly Alma.

The filmmaking is concise and largely unobtrusive, letting the characters do the work, often with silent looks and facial expressions. Director Anderson did not use a Director of Photography on this, instead working with the camera operators themselves. The result is spontaneous but not amateur looking, with a slight gritty haze that makes many scenes almost dream-like. It's not a look that I would like to see in a lot of films, but it works here among the chilly environments both exterior and interior. The score by Jonny Greenwood, guitarist and songwriter from Radiohead, is surprisingly subdued, mainly light piano pieces, with some flourishes when needed.

I won't pretend that a lot of viewers will like this, as they might find it slow, pretentious, boring, or pointless. I certainly did not, and found it a deep, and even deeply disturbing, look at a unique type of love fostered by unusual people, told in a compelling, if quiet, way. This is more for the Masterpiece Theatre crowd than the Fast and the Furious crowd. I would rank this among the very best of the year 2017. Highly Recommended.

Let us get this out of the way- Phantom Thread is a beautiful film with a great premise and promise. A couture dress designer (Daniel Day Lewis) is demanding in the extreme and finds a muse (Vicky Krieps). He enjoys using her as a dress model and a companion, but she wants more. Along the way, the director, Paul Thomas Anderson, throws hints of intrigue starting with the title of the film. There are empty pretensions of dress-making as high art, secret messages sown into dresses and haunting memories. All of this leads to- exactly nowhere. Everything Lewis and Krieps do is recorded lovingly and meticulously on film with great mood music in the background. But there is no great reveal, no deep insight into human psyche, no higher truth. In the end it comes down to what a woman wants and what the man can live with. Lewis and Krieps are excellent, especially Krieps, but Lesley Manville as Lewis's sister has the thankless job of looking stern in every scene. Nothing in the film sticks with you when you leave the theater except the dresses, photography and the music; because Anderson has not come up with anything really interesting in the story. Unlike his "There Will Blood", which was a great film, Phantom Thread is a phantom film. It is a beautiful ghost of what should have been a really good film. See it if you wish to say goodbye to Daniel Day Lewis, but keep your expectations low.

First of all - what a cowboy name for a designer! I like the title letters, they are like the endless knot. And so is this movie. It leads nowhere, but strangely finds a cure for sociopaths. Give them a little bit of their own poison and you will live happily ever after. Maybe. This notion is the best that this film gives you, even better than the production design. I really liked the wallpapers so I won't complain about the production value, style over substance, and so on. It's brave to try to cover the truth with lots of lace and chiffon to make it watchable because the result may be pretentious and boring. And then if the truth isn't necessarily cathartic, the mushrooms are. But, to like the film I need to like the characters and they are not likable. I can't imagine what he sees in her or what she sees in him. The motif of poisonous love games and the uncertainty of love has been better used by François Truffaut in his Mississippi Mermaid (1969).