I saw "Phantom Thread" last night, induced to do so by the rumor that it would be Daniel Day Lewis's final film. Lewis is one of the best film actors of the past 30 years, and the son of former Poet Laureate Cecil Day Lewis. In addition he quit acting for five years to become a cobbler, which makes his interest in fashion and clothing piquant.
The film is gorgeous. The actors, the clothes, the still-lifes of the interior sets and the all-too-rare outdoor scenes all look great. The music by Johnny Greenwood --mostly piano -- adds to the creepy and claustrophobic atmosphere. Day Lewis's film sister Cyril is clearly designed to resemble Mrs. Manvers from "Rebecca", and adds to the creepy, stylized atmosphere. Day Lewis (Mr. Woodcock) gets rid of one model and muse, and picks up another one (Alma) at a restaurant. How Day Lewis and his models retain their slender figures is something of a mystery, considering the amount of food they order and consume. Trays of delicious-looking sweet rolls appear at each breakfast, but remain uneaten -- perhaps representing the control needed for artistic production.
Unfortunately, all of the beauty and creepy claustrophobia that the film so skillfully produces leads nowhere. Cyril is a cipher, clip-clopping about the house in her sensibly blocky high heels. I kept waiting for her to do something, but she never does. Alma and Woodcock wander through a sickly, co-dependent relationship with neither resolution nor (despite the dramatic details) drama. I suppose this is a post-modern motif -- things just happen that lead nowhere, or to walls so high their tops cannot be seen. In addition, I was annoyed with the notion that an artist is, by nature, deranged, and that his psychoses must be indulged, and his life ordered, to facilitate his creativity.
At one point Alma runs off to attend a New Years Eve party solo, and I whispered to my companion, "Let's hope they wrap it up sometime this year." Still, the positives of the film far outweigh the negatives, and it's well worth seeing.

