Cinema Wednesdays - Hélène Lavoyer
«What game? What is the precise nature of my game?» (Reynolds Woodcock)
Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis) is a great couturier and the creative mind behind the House of Fashion. Woodcock. His sister Cyril (Lesley Manville), a short-haired, austerely dressed woman, takes care of the administrative and economic aspects, giving her brother's genius the time and environment to flourish.
The designer never married, yet young, beautiful muses flocked to his home and studio in 1950s London. Over time, each of them comes to resent Reynolds, a tough character obsessed with his work, through which he brings them into existence. Before Cyril, ever politely, «asks them to take their leave».
While suffering from a slight fatigue that leads him to isolate himself in his country house, Reynolds meets Alma. The waitress, with her shy airs and seemingly awkward body in the restaurant, is easily invited to dinner. That evening, the romance blossoms in the attic workshop of the picturesque property, where Reynolds begins to design a dress for her.
On arrival, Cyril doesn't seem surprised by the presence of the beautiful creature, and obediently annotates Alma's measurements, dictated by Reynolds. Neither the breasts silhouetted under the thin robe nor the rose perfume seem to attract the man; in his head already flutter the fabrics and folds of his future creation.
Alma, too, moves to the wealthy London neighborhood; she, too, serves as a display case, parading the thick lace and pearl dresses... But against all odds, she is the one who will only allow herself to be possessed under certain conditions; surreptitiously, she will know how to exhume the gentleness of the regulated and intractable man, and make herself a necessity, according to a tacit agreement between the two of them.
Day-Lewis, but not only
A three-time Oscar winner, Daniel Day-Lewis no longer has to prove himself. Known the world over for his performances, which he crafts in the spirit of The Method - the principles of acting in film and theater, which aim to erase the actor so that he owns both the story and the psychology of the character - his interpretation of Reynolds Woodcock is once again masterful.
There's no actor behind the couturier, who reveals himself in all his states: from the sickly to a personification of poise and honor, from transitory lover, from gallant man to obsessive worker, emotions are conveyed with unsuspected accuracy.
Faced with such an actor, the challenge facing the young Vicky Krieps is considerable. And while one might have thought that the Luxembourger would let herself be impressed, she doesn't let herself be discovered under Alma's skin either. Alma in love, Alma angry, Alma mean-spirited or Alma playful, Alma tortured Alma intractable, the range of traits interpreted composes a personality more complex and unfathomable than Reynolds'.
British production
British cinema is said to have documentary value, or to have excelled in historical re-enactment. Both of these characteristics are evident in Phantom Thread. Mister Reynolds' Bristol 404 is representative of the era. Likewise, London's outer suburbs lend themselves perfectly to this chronology.
Above all, it's worth noting the care taken with fashion at the time; Woodcock's dresses are fully in keeping with it. Pastel or darker pink, velvet, satin and embellished with lace, these were the hallmarks of 1950s dresses. The preference for bare shoulders and volume at the hips also marks this era.
Strange tension
The title announces the threat. Not dread, not violence, but rather an omnipresent shadow. The film's twists and turns follow one another without explosions and far from the grand Hollywood effects. Here, it's up to the colorful lights to accompany the actors, bathing them in astonishing paradoxes, and the musical passages to set the pace.
Tension builds exponentially with anticipation; every new scene is subject to a twist. However, nothing. Nothing other than an argument between Reynolds and Alma will raise the decibel meter in the room. But for the viewer, something has been sewing all along, and the final scene introducing the couple will be a disturbing revelation, leaving a lingering sensation of incomprehension.
One downside? Convinced feminists may find it hard to accept Alma's primary role as a model woman whose only desire is to love and be loved, and her need to mother. It's in perceiving the decisive role she plays in Reynolds' life that we come face to face with the possibility of a precisely feminine force: that of inspiring, of liberating.
«I want you flat on your back. Defenseless, tender, open, and only me to help you. And I want you strong again. You won't die. You may wish to die, but you won't.» (Alma)
Photo credit: © Universal Pictures