Madeleine Haslam reviews PTA’s Academy Awards front-runner.

Paul Thomas Anderson’s latest picture Phantom Thread is a rich and intricate yet bizarre tale that is aptly described by many as a successor to Hitchcock’s Rebecca. It is nominated for six Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Actor.

Phantom Thread is a gothic fairytale that follows the life of pedantic designer Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis) after he meets Alma (Vicky Krieps), who works as a waitress in the country. She comes to live with him, acting as his model and muse. Throughout the film we are shown the intricate creation of Woodcock’s designs and the people who wear them, from Belgian princesses to American debutantes. However, this seemingly traditional film takes a jarring turn when Alma decides to punish Reynolds for his erratic behaviour.

The relationship between Reynolds and Alma becomes increasingly strained as she refuses to conform to his strict routine and misogyny, diving into complex gender dynamics. Tensions rise as Alma’s unwelcome surprise dinner brings out Reynold’s vicious yet darkly witty dialogue, as he says “I’m admiring my own gallantry for eating it the way you prepared it”, and snaps at her over breakfast simply for buttering her toast too loudly.The relationship between Alma and Reynolds is continually evolving. One moment they are an artist and his muse, in another they are a loving couple, and soon become fierce rivals who engage in piercing conflict with potentially murderous consequences.  It becomes difficult to gauge where the film is taking you: the audience is continually tricked and misled through unexpected turns and surprising developments, making the film all the more exciting.

It is an impressive final performance from Day-Lewis. Inspired by the eccentricities of designers such as Alexander McQueen and Balenciaga, Day-Lewis effectively captures Reynolds’ dedication but also the problematic devotion to his craft. He displays to perfection the meticulous mannerisms of “a most demanding man”, refreshingly offset by Krieps’ outspoken and disruptive presence. This too is complimented by Cyril Woodcock (Lesley Manville), Reynolds’s sister and manager. She is truly the driving force behind the film; managing her brother’s violent mood swings and pushing on through trouble he causes – as Reynolds is taken ill and accidentally ruins a dress for an imminent royal wedding, she is the one who prepares to work throughout the night to fix it.

Every aspect of this film is suitably elegant and intricate. Mark Bridge’s costume design is exceptional and, of course, of huge significance to the story. Inspired by the designs of 1950s artists as Dior, Bridges made over fifty gowns for the film. He did so in collaboration with Day-Lewis in order to create the character of Woodcock, saying, ‘If at all possible, I loved his input’. Bridges describes his process as being like that of a contemporary couture designer, by sourcing the best fabrics from around the world in Rome, London, and New York, and even including 17th century Flemish Lace.

Of equal importance is the stunning camera work by Anderson, in his debut role as Director of Photography. Shot entirely on film, Phantom Thread gives the impression of being an actual 1950s production, with technicolour-esque, yet, as Anderson notes, ‘slightly washed out, slightly antique’ tones, to create a feeling of watching an aged, but genuine mid-century film. Of the cinematography, gaffer Michael Bauman and camera operator Colin Anderson wanted to make sure that it did not “look like The Crown”, as a period drama whose cinematography is polished and clean, instead opting for a grittier, aged feel. This only adds to the sense of an underlying turbulence; subtly suggesting that everything is not as perfect as it might seem. Like the secret messages sewn into the lining of Reynolds’ gowns, there is always the suggestion that there is something more to every shot than the mere façade of luscious gowns and glamorous clients.

The soundtrack is equally elegantly produced. Composed by Radiohead’s Johnny Greenwood, the score consists of lusciously arranged orchestral pieces, as well as delicately muted piano performances. The production design is similarly flawless, as scenes are embellished with the suitably intricate patterns of William Morris. The locations, split between London’s Fitzrovia and the Yorkshire countryside surrounding Whitby, are atmospheric and reminiscent, again, of such gothic tales as Rebecca or Dracula.

Though, admittedly, there are parts of this film that may seem familiar to cinema-goers who may recently have seen Lady Macbeth, My Cousin Rachel, or The Beguiled, the skill and craftsmanship that has gone into every aspect of Phantom Thread makes it, in my opinion, a strong contender for Best Picture. It is not surprising that it has been so frequently described by critics as Paul Thomas Anderson’s ‘masterpiece’.

Phantom Thread is out now in UK cinemas. Watch the trailer:

Madeleine Haslam revisits North by Northwest, recently shown at BFI Southbank.

“The Hitchcock picture to end all Hitchcock pictures” is how screenwriter Ernest Lehman envisioned North by Northwest. He saw a film that would act as a self aware anthology of the beloved parts of the great Alfred Hitchcock films: a blend of wit, style, sophistication, and action. The collaboration between Lehman and Hitchcock began with a planned adaptation of the novel The Wreck of the Mary Deare, but this was quickly discarded by the pair as “too static”. What ultimately resulted from this change of plan is a film in which movement is fundamental – from the first use of kinetic typography in the opening titles to the grand frantic chase across America in cars, planes, trains, and buses, through train stations and deserted landscapes and over national monuments. It is a film that is anything but static.

In a simple but easy-to-miss case of mistaken identity, advertising executive Roger O. Thornhill (Cary Grant) is confused with elusive secret agent George Kaplan. Kidnapped by prototypical Bond villain Phillip Vandamm (James Mason), then accused of murder, he is pursued across the country with both the help and hindrance of the deceptive Eve Kendall (Eva Marie Saint). North by Northwest is a frantically absurd yet captivating thriller now hailed as one of Hitchcock’s best, if not one of the best films ever made.

It is a film full of iconic scenes, recognisable even to those who haven’t seen it before. The frankly gratuitous crop duster sequence has been referenced in everything from Family Guy to From Russia With Love, and thus the image of Grant fleeing the crop-dusting plane has entered the collective cultural memory. This does not diminish the effect of watching the scene, but enhances it in anticipation. The staging of the crop-duster scene is more broadly interesting: it subverts expectations as Thornhill waits to meet Kaplan, the mysterious agent he has been mistaken for. The genius of the sequence lies, as Hitchcock noted in his 1962 interview with Francois Truffaut, in its antithetical approach to how such a scene normally looks; “a dark night at a narrow intersection of the city…the waiting victim standing in a pool of light under the street lamp…a shot of a window, with a furtive face pulling back the curtain to look out…”. But Thornhill is alone, in the middle of nowhere, bathed in bright light and surrounded by 360 degrees of ominously empty land, where any threat should be clearly visible. More importantly, the audience notices that, surrounded by nothing, Thornhill has nowhere to hide – he is an exposed target. Tension and paranoia builds as the audience waits for something to happen. Cars approach only to go by without stopping. A stranger appears, and swiftly leaves, but not before making the troubling observation that the plane in the distance is dusting crops where there are none.

As Hitchcock notes in the same interview, “absurdity is the nature of this film”, and this scene proves it. A man being chased by a crop-dusting aeroplane is ridiculous, but this acts nonetheless as one of the more dangerous moments within the film, as emphasised by the lack of music and absence of the usually-playful dialogue. Bookended by the darkly serious Vertigo the previous year and the shocking Psycho the year after, it is easy to see how different in nature North by Northwest is. It allowed Hitchcock to create a light-hearted, highly saturated adventure, devoid of the detailed symbolism that permeates his other movies. This direct contrast is emphasised by watching Alexandre Philippe’s new documentary 78/52, a captivating and extensive analysis of the iconic shower scene in Psycho, which makes apparent the strikingly different approaches taken by Hitchcock in directing these two films, with only a year between them. Both films can be seen in the cinema this week, but beware of analysing North by Northwest in such detail. Screenwriter Lehman had words for critics who try to search for deeper, existential meanings in the film. He labelled their musings “pretentious crap”.

North by Northwest is showing as part of the BFI’s ‘Who Can You Trust?’ season of classic thrillers until the 2nd of November. 78/52 is showing at the BFI until November 9th.