Phantom Thread

Director Paul Thomas Anderson takes a break from films that are trying to "say something" to return to a story about people; this is one of his best, most beautiful, and most perverse works. Presented elegantly and slowly, Phantom Thread moves around Reynolds Woodcock's glorious mansion and work space, taking in all his intricate threadwork and admiring every drape and fold of the material. It's Jonny Greenwood's score that provides the sinister, anxious quality that lurks just under the exquisite surface. In certain ways, the movie is almost Hitchcockian.

Stripped of makeup and mannerisms, Day-Lewis gives something close to a basic human performance, but it's still commanding; his seductive use of masculinity recalls his earlier role in The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Manville stands out, too, locking her passions inside a starchy, austere character but still capable of doing so much with her eyes and sour line readings. It's refreshing that the movie avoids hysterics and major plot twists; it stays largely within the house and largely focused on these three characters as they subtly try to one-up each other's level of power. It's a grand movie, but it's also subtle and mischievous.