Manhattan

 SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.

In Manhattan (1979), Woody Allen, who stars, co-wrote, and directed the film, shows his love for the New York City island through the movie’s cinematography, courtesy of Gordon Willis, and the soundtrack. But, the story shows romance between individuals to be an elusive, incomprehensible, and sometimes heartbreaking experience.

 

The film is in black and white which suggests an imagined as opposed to realistic view of the city and its inhabitants. It opens with shots of the Manhattan skyline and throughout the movie there are many images of famous New York City locales which provide a definite sense of the setting. The opening music is from George Gershwin's “Rhapsody in Blue,” which starts slow and breezy, like walkers on the street, and then soars as do the city’s skyscrapers. Allen doesn’t want to spoil the mood with credits so he announces the title of his movie with a blinking building sign that reads “Manhattan.” A voice-over from Isaac (Allen), a successful television writer (Allen’s old job), shows him struggling to capture in words what he feels for this place that enthralls him. But his narration reveals that he “over romanticizes” almost everything, which means that nothing can live up to his fantasies. His complaint about those unappealing aspects of the city, such as the garbage and the drug usage, reveals him to be someone who would rather live in an idealized nostalgic past than in the here and now. As the music reaches its crescendo, it is matched visually with fireworks exploding over the lit buildings at night.

 

Isaac is having dinner with his girlfriend, Tracy (Mariel Hemmingway). Now this is the uncomfortable part, because he is forty-two years old and she is seventeen and goes to high school. But, within the context of the film the age difference is ironic, because she acts more mature than he does. In addition, her youth symbolizes for him a romantic ideal unspoiled by life’s corruptions. But, Isaac is also very aware of the age difference and goes through the story feeling guilty about her youth instead of really seeing her intrinsic worth. They are at the noted eatery, Elaine’s, with Isaac’s friend, Yale (Michael Murphy) (His name communicates northeastern intellectualism), and his wife, Emily (Anne Byrne Hoffman). Yale is waxing on about how art helps to enlighten a person as to how to “get in touch” with one’s feelings. Isaac says that artistic “talent is luck. The important thing in life is courage.” He asks if any of them would jump into icy water to save a drowning man. He jokingly says he’s off the hook because he can’t swim. It is an interesting statement since the rest of the story shows Isaac to be a coward when it comes to emotional commitment. This inability to maturely connect in a relationship is reflected in the fact that Isaac has two failed marriages. His second wife, Jill (Meryl Streep), is writing a book about their union. The movie is intolerant of tell-all books that invade people’s privacy.

 

As Isaac and Yale walk ahead of the women, Yale admits that he has become seriously involved in the prior two months with someone else, a female journalist named Mary (Diane Keaton), and doesn’t know how to proceed. He admits to having a couple of earlier flirtations, and yet he says how much he loves his wife. Yale obviously is another clueless male trying to navigate the romantic road without a sense of direction. At least Isaac knows he is not the one to ask for advice on the subject. He says when it comes to relationships he is “the winner of the August Strindberg award,” a literary reference to the dramatist who was a misogynist. It is a funny line, but does not paint Isaac as someone who truly values women.

 

At home, Emily asks Yale if he has given more thought to having children, which is a normal question for a serious couple to consider. But, the immature Yale says, “Oh, my God. Kids,” like it’s an unreasonable topic for discussion. He then comes up with selfish excuses not to be a parent, such as getting a book finished and acquiring money to start up a magazine. She mentions their plan to move to Connecticut, but he says all of his “stuff” is there in New York. He sounds like a child who doesn't want to put away his toys. He goes so far as to say he can’t “abandon” Isaac, as if he's a playground pal who can’t function without his childhood friend.

 Isaac confronts his ex-wife Jill about her book. He argues how revealing details about what should be left behind closed doors would be humiliating if disclosed in public. She is humorless and says it is “an honest account of their breakup.” Although some may say that public figures, such as Isaac, known for his writing, are subject to different rules than the rest of the population. But, the film argues that despite invoking honesty as the justification to disclose information to the public, there are private topics that nobody has a right to know. From today’s viewpoint, Isaac’s sarcastic question asking whether his son is playing baseball or “wearing a dress” seems intolerant. Jill is now in a lesbian relationship and Isaac obviously subscribes to outmoded notions of sexual orientation. His stance is that Jill acted as an “immoral, psychotic, promiscuous” person. Obviously, Jill’s idea of honesty differs from that of Isaac, raising the question as to how objective are the types of books told from one person’s perspective.

 

In Isaac’s dark and spacious apartment (Roger Ebert notes in The Great Movies that the shot shows how empty Isaac’s life really is), Isaac keeps telling Tracy, who confesses her love for him, that he is just a “detour” on her life’s road. She says she has had three intimate relationships at her young age and found those boys too immature for her. He is giving her sound advice about not focusing on him. But, he has fostered the relationship, selfishly using her emotional and physical closeness while also attempting to distance her. 

Despite their age difference, Tracy and Isaac agree on what they appreciate, such as movies and art. At a museum they meet Yale and the woman he has been seeing, Mary, who completely disagrees with Isaac about which exhibits are praiseworthy. Mary is pretentious as she says a piece of sculpture has “a marvelous kind of negative capability.” That phrase comes from an observation by John Keats about the works of William Shakespeare. She continues to flaunt her intellectualism by talking about writing for a literary periodical. When she asks what Tracy does, the unapologetic, unassuming young woman says, “I go to high school.” Mary’s esoteric comment, “Somewhere Nabokov is smiling,” makes a reference to the writer’s Lolita which dealt with an older man’s obsession with a young girl. Yale adds to the condescension by placing people such as Gustave Mahler, Isak Dinesen, Carl Yung, Lenny Bruce, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Norman Mailer, Vincent Van Gogh, and Allen’s favorite director, Ingmar Bergman, in the “Academy of the Overrated.” Allen punctures their elitist attitude by saying that all these figures are “terrific,” and says why not throw in Mozart since they are “trashing” people. Obviously, Allen is well read, but he has contempt for those who broadcast their knowledge in a snobbish, and sometimes inaccurate, manner. In contrast to Mary’s self-important proclamations, Isaac and Tracy do the needed mundane activity of shopping. Isaac tells Tracy that Yale is a sucker for women like Mary, which doesn’t say much for Yale. This film may be one of Allen’s most conservative movies, as he tells Tracy he doesn’t believe in extra-marital affairs. He says, “I think people should mate for life, like pigeons and Catholics.” 

 

While showing contempt for “pseudo-intellectual” types, Isaac also can’t tolerate the dumbing down of society by way of the TV programs that are sort of circus sideshows that he has become involved in. One of them is comically entitled, “Human Beings - Wow.” One episode exploits an affliction for supposedly humorous entertainment by featuring a catatonic woman. Isaac loudly argues against this type of so-called comedy, saying it is not funny. He says, “standards have been lowered over the years,” and have now reached a nadir. One of the men in the production booth tells him to calm down by taking a Quaalude. Again, we have a reactionary response, in this case to drug usage. Isaac tells the young people there that they think the material they are programming is funny because of all the drugs they are taking. He says to them, “you should abandon the show and open a pharmaceutical house.” He has the strength of his convictions here, and quits. Upon reflection, his pragmatic side surfaces and he complains to Yale that he will have to cut back on the expenses that allow him to enjoy all of the cultural perks that Manhattan has to offer. But, he hopes his book will eventually come out (the one he was dictating at the beginning of the movie).

 

At a dedication at the Museum of Modern Art Isaac again encounters Mary. We once more see Isaac’s no-nonsense approach compared to the mental over-analyzing, and thus passive, manner of other New Yorkers. He mentions about a Nazi march that is scheduled to occur in New Jersey. He urges that they have to get some people together with “some bricks and baseball bats and explain things to ‘em.” One man there says there was a “devastating satirical piece” on this event in the New York Times. For Isaac, that approach of retaliation is like bringing a rolled-up newspaper to a gunfight. He counters with, “bricks get right to the point,” and “physical force is better with Nazis.” One man, Dennis (Michael O'Donoghue, who used to write for Saturday Night Live), changes the topic by saying they were talking about “orgasms.” One woman there says she finally had an orgasm but her doctor told her it was “the wrong kind.” Isaac leans backwards in surprise and he looks sideways at the woman as if she is from another planet. He says, “I’ve never had the wrong kind. Ever.” The movie satirizes these New Yorkers who overthink everything to the point of sabotaging their own pleasure.

Isaac and Mary share a cab ride and Isaac comments that her friends are like characters out of a Fellini movie, implying they resemble the filmmaker’s portrayal of grotesque individuals. Mary says she divorced her husband, Jeremiah, because she “was tired of submerging my identity to a brilliant, dominating man.” She says he was a “genius,” which is the way she describes many people. Isaac continues to ground the discussion by saying instead of listening to all these geniuses, she should “meet some stupid people. You could learn something.” She says that he is probably with a young girl because she is less threatening, given his experience, than being with a more mature woman. When he questions her cold analytical assessment, she says she is “honest.” But again, as with Jill’s book, honesty not tempered with compassion can be destructive. Mary says, according to what she has read, since she does not have experiential knowledge, that his son should be fine being raised by two mothers. His funny response is, “Really? Because I feel very few people survive one mother.” 

 

The music in the movie is from classic romantic ballads that stress the hardships of relationships. He asks if she is serious about Yale, perhaps because he is now becoming interested in her. The two start to get to know each other and Mary begins to appreciate Isaac’s humorous side. She still over-analyzes things, saying her dachshund is a penis substitute. She asks about his book which he says is about “decaying values,” which has already been stressed in the movie thus far. The iconic shot from the film shows them in a moody, romantic black and gray image sitting on a bench next to a bridge, possibly suggesting attempts by people to connect with each other. 

 

Isaac is now openly disappointed after talking to Yale on the phone and hearing that he is still interested in Mary. She and Yale are out shopping and the two of them show ambivalent feelings toward each other which mirror Isaac’s attitude about Tracy. Mary questions being with a married man and says she doesn’t want to break up a marriage when he offers to move out of his home. She concludes she should look for someone single, and, like Isaac, seems to want old fashioned “values like warmth and spiritual contact.” But, just like Isaac and Yale, she gives into her selfishness by agreeing to go to a hotel with Yale. 

 

Isaac goes to pick up his son and hostility is apparent when he encounters Jill and her girlfriend, Connie (Karen Kudwig). When the latter says that his son is a talented drawer, like herself, he implies that since she can’t be the father, the ability is not inherited. Alone, he tells Jill how he can’t understand why she would prefer Connie over him. But, he is in denial because she notes that he knew she had a “history,” most likely of gay feelings that he would not accept. He comically says his analyst warned him about Jill, but she was too beautiful so he got another analyst. He still is very upset about the book, and their differing interpretations of events continues. She says she hopes that they can just be friends, but how can that be a realistic desire given that she wants to reveal all of their problems to the scrutiny of others. Here we have more ways that relationships can be minefields.

 

Isaac wants to inject traditional masculine attributes into his son’s upbringing, which he sees as being in jeopardy in Jill’s household. But, it may be that he is needlessly projecting his own feelings of inadequacy onto the situation. He takes his boy, Willie (Damion Scheller), out to play basketball. They then go to dinner and Isaac jokes about how there are beautiful women in the restaurant and if Willie applies himself they could pick up a couple of them. Given the young age of the boy, it is a funny scene, but it also shows how absurdly worried Isaac is about how the lesbian couple’s influence affects his son. 

 

After not being able to get Yale to go for a Sunday walk because of his family commitments, the lonely Mary calls Isaac to take a stroll. They get caught in a storm and seek shelter at a planetarium with a reproduction of a moonscape that they explore. The black and white photography is put to evocative use here as the two walk in and out of shadows. The moon is invoked often in love poetry and song lyrics, so the setting is appropriate. But, the moon is also associated with madness (as in the word “lunacy”), suggesting that falling in love is an irrational, sometimes crazy occurrence. Lovers may also feel as if they are trying to transverse alien terrain because of how difficult it is to find the path to intimacy. Mary loosens up with Isaac, laughing about his drenched appearance. It’s as if the rain washed away her standoffish intellectualism. She admits that her ex-husband, Jeremiah, cheated on her, another example of a failed relationship. She confesses to feeling inadequate mentally and physically with her ex, which helps us understand her posturing as a defense mechanism. She talks about how Jeremiah opened her up sexually, and notes, “Women found him devastating.” We later see him, and her comments about Jeremiah set us up to encounter a specific male type. As she automatically tries to recite Saturn’s moons, Isaac gently dismisses her overachieving intellectual attempt by telling her the topic will not come up in normal conversation. He also says, “The brain is the most overrated organ,” as he pushes the emphasis on the importance of the physical aspect of humans, which includes intimacy. Even though he is attracted to Mary, he makes excuses when she wants to meet up again. He is trying to live by a code that means he should not get involved with a woman his friend is seeing. 

 

Tracy informs Isaac that she has been accepted into a performing arts program in London, but she wants him to go to England with her. He jokes his way out of the suggestion, not wanting to confront her concerns about a separation. She complains he doesn’t take her seriously because of her age, and she is correct. He urges her to attend, which will relieve him of the burden of eventually breaking up with her. She gets him to go on a horse and buggy ride around Manhattan, and he marvels about how she wants to do this “corny” thing. She is surprisingly more old-fashioned than he is when it comes to romance, and therefore, she seems like the more mature soul. He does care for her very much, and says that in the Bible, Job would have been okay with God’s torments if he saw that he could make someone as wonderful as Tracy.

 

This sweet scene contrasts with a contentious discussion between Yale and Mary where she argues more with herself about getting involved with a married man. She declares that she deserves better, but when Yale suggests again taking action to leave Emily, she still does not want to be blamed for breaking up a marriage. She, like Isaac, is looking for a way out despite having voluntarily put herself in a no-win situation. Later, Yale finally breaks it off with her, saying he has to think about Emily and he’s not sure if he and Mary would make it in the long run. She knows it’s for the best, but she became emotionally invested, and it still hurts. She tries to shore up her confidence for the future by saying she has a great deal going for her because she is smart and pretty, but her true insecurity breaks through as she says, “I’m all fucked up. I’m just shit!” Mary seeks solace by reaching out to Isaac, who listens to her complaint about Yale leading her on. Isaac tries to defend Yale, but he is really defending himself because he is doing the same with Tracy. 

 

The romanticism of the carriage ride gives way to Isaac using complaints about the noises and brown water in his new, more economical apartment to avoid speaking honestly to Tracy about what is going to happen to them. She wants to divert him by being sexually adventurous, and he is torn because he desires her but also is shocked by the sensuality in someone so young. He again sets up his exit strategy by saying that after she goes to London she’ll think of him, “as a fond memory.” But, he does not consider how much he is hurting her by continuing to be a couple and satisfying his desires. The thing is, Isaac and Tracy are very compatible despite the difference in their ages. They eat Chinese food in bed while watching a movie, like a comfortable married couple. They critique characters on a show who wear a wig and had facelifts, and agree that older faces are interesting. She is thrilled that there will be a W. C. Fields film to see, which shows her as being well-rounded beyond her years.

 

Yale tells Isaac that he feels good about himself now that he broke it off with Mary since he is not one for having affairs, all evidence to the contrary. He easily promotes the idea that Isaac should now date Mary, showing his waffling emotions. Isaac, getting his friend’s blessing, dates Mary, who does warn him that she is messed up psychologically, so she is “trouble.” He laughs it off by saying that his middle name is “trouble,” but then humorously says it really is “Mortimer,” not wanting to see any red flags as they begin to get physical. 

 

Isaac is outside Tracy’s school, almost uncomfortably looking like a parent waiting for his child. She bought him a harmonica because he talked about wanting to learn how to play it. She says, “I’m trying to open up that side of you.” She wants to expand Isaac’s possibilities. Out of the main characters, she is the most generous, the most grown up. But he is now seeing Mary, and says she is wasting her affection on him. He says that they should stop being a couple. She says she loves him, but he sums up the confusing world of romance by saying when it comes to love, “nobody out there knows what the hell is going on.” Her response is, “We have laughs together. I care about you. Your concerns are my concerns. We have great sex.” The film suggests that she understands more than the older Isaac does about what constitutes love. When she asks him if he loves her, he says he loves someone else who he has been seeing. Her understated, “Gee, now I don’t feel so good,” is heartbreaking as she realizes, despite his continued warning about the temporary nature of their “fling,” that Isaac has actually been cheating on her. She rightly confronts his hypocrisy by telling him that he acts like their ending things is to her advantage when he’s the one who wants to terminate their relationship. He is condescending when he says he encouraged her to go out with guys named “Biff” and “Scooter,” underestimating her maturity. Tracy’s sadness is palpable as she cries and asks him to leave her alone, since Isaac’s attempt at consoling her after he has hurt her just adds to her pain.

 

Isaac and Mary see more of each other as they take rides to the country and wander around New York City. A funny shot shows the two of them in a rowboat in the lake in Central Park. Isaac puts his hand in the water and when he pulls it out it is covered in thick, dark slime. Even though it is humorous, it is consistent with the opening lines of the film and the theme of Isaac’s book about how the city he loves is beginning to decay. 

 

Emily tells Isaac she doesn’t understand why he hasn't brought the girl he is dating around to see her and Yale. Mary says she’s fine with getting together, and Yale gives his okay. But, the meeting is unavoidably awkward as Yale and Mary pretend that they haven’t met before, and Mary now meets Yale’s wife. When they go to a classical music concert, Mary sits next to Yale and the two of them fidget as Isaac appears jealous as he keeps leaning forward to ensure the former couple are not touching.

While shopping, Mary’s ex, Jeremiah (Wallace Shawn), approaches her and Isaac. All of us who love movies and TV know the talented Shawn, and he is a short, balding man. His character also lost a great deal of weight according to Mary which adds to the depiction of a person who would not be considered by many as very attractive. Isaac is astounded because by the way Mary described him as this sexually empowered male who dominated women, Isaac thought the man would be the traditional tall, dark and handsome fellow. It is a funny twist on stereotypical expectations, and it also shows how there is a great deal of value placed on appearance alone, as it points to Isaac’s, and probably the audience’s, limited perception of a person’s worth.

 

As they do their respective writing in different rooms, Isaac chastises Mary for working on a novelization of a movie, another form of lowered standards that he sees devaluing society. As they work, Yale calls Mary, saying he misses her, but she resists agreeing to see him. Yale buys a car because he says he had to have it, sounding like a little boy who wants a new toy. He seems to act the same way when it comes to women. The two couples go for a ride in the vehicle. There are several shots of the characters riding in cars in the film, possibly implying metaphorically that they are always going somewhere, but not really arriving at a satisfying destination. 

 

On their day trip they pass a bookshop and Jill’s book is in the window. They buy a copy and as Mary reads from it, Isaac exhibits painful humiliation as Jill describes how much better the sexual experience was with a woman than with her husband. She also uses unflattering words to describe Isaac, including calling him chauvinistic, paranoid, and despairing. Although an invasion of privacy, her assessment of Isaac is not without merit. He confronts Jill, who keeps saying she wrote honestly, but she did profit off of his name by exploiting what transpired in a personal relationship. She bangs in the last nail in the coffin when she says that she has received interest in making the book into a movie.

 

To add to Isaac’s misery, Mary tells him that she thinks she is still in love with Yale. She says that Yale wants to leave Emily so that he and Mary can live together. Her admission comes under the category of what goes around comes around for Isaac. She is dumping Isaac after he dumped Tracy for Mary. He is stunned, but he is able to analyze Mary’s situation with Yale. He notes Yale has been married for twelve years and will return to his wife, and Mary is a runner who when she feels “secure” will not believe that impression and will leave Yale. He says he gives the reunion four weeks. Mary says she “can’t plan that far in advance.” It is a funny statement but stresses the fragility of modern love. 

 

Isaac confronts Yale where he teaches. They go into a biology classroom where there are skeletons of a gorilla and humans. Isaac yells at Yale and wonders why his friend introduced Mary to him in the first place. He says now they both like her, but Yale says, “I liked her first.” Isaac points out the immaturity of the statement, and thus the persistent childish level of the grown male, when he says, “What are you, six years old?” Isaac is sarcastic about Yale’s lack of an emotional anchor when he says, “You can still change your mind one more time before dinner.” He continues to indict Yale, telling him he is “too easy” on himself when he says he’s not “a saint” for seeing Mary behind Isaac’s back. Isaac says Yale rationalizes away his flaws and is thus not honest with himself. But, Isaac is also angry at himself for some of the same behavior he showed toward Tracy. He emphasizes Yale’s adolescent behavior by his preferring to buy a sports car instead of putting in the work to write his much-delayed book. Isaac sees this lack of ethical behavior may start small but leads to being, “in front of a Senate committee naming names,” a reference to the Communist witch hunts during the McCarthy era. As to Yale’s accusation that Isaac is being God-like in his self-righteousness, Isaac says, “I gotta model myself after someone,” which means people should live up to the high standards of morality they set for themselves. He worries about “what future generations” will say about their elder’s lives if they act irresponsibly. Isaac points to the skeleton he is next to and says that is what is going to happen to all of them, and the only legacy left behind is “personal integrity.” So, it’s important to him that when he is dead, “I’m well thought of.” 

 

To possibly put into practice what he preaches, Isaac begins to apply himself to writing his book and spending quality time with his son. He meets with Emily and she says she knew about some affairs Yale had in the past but thought there had to be compromises in a marriage. But, Isaac’s sense of morality causes him to say he can’t compromise. He admits that in hindsight he really blew it by leaving Tracy as he felt the best when with her. She even left a message for him once that the film Grand Illusion was going to be shown on TV, which shows how she still cared to let him know about one of his favorite movies. 

He is dictating ideas for a story about people in Manhattan who create “unnecessary, neurotic problems,” so they don’t have to confront “more unsolvable, terrifying problems,” concerning “the universe.” These notes point to how humans are limited creatures who find it frustratingly impossible to deal with their inability to understand the total nature of existence. But, he wants to include some optimism, so he asks, given our finite abilities, what makes life worth living. He makes a list, which includes, Groucho Marx, Willie Mays (who his son is named after), a Louis Armstrong recording, Marlon Brando, Frank Sinatra, Swedish movies, works by Cezanne and Flaubert, and “Tracy’s face.” With that last item, he stops and picks up the harmonica she gave him, which symbolizes her putting him first in the relationship. 

 As at the ending of most romantic comedies, one person runs to reconnect with the other. Isaac does so here, trying to rectify his mistake for leaving Tracy. He finds her loading her luggage onto a limo, ready to leave for London. She combs her hair and she almost looks like a young Ingrid Bergman waiting for that plane to take her away from Casablanca. He admits to being wrong for leaving her, but all the arrangements have been made and her parents are looking for a place for her to live in England. He now admits to being in love with her. She says if they truly love each other, her being away for six months will not change anything. He is afraid that much time will change her, having those experiences and meeting people that he once encouraged. She assures him that, “Not everybody gets corrupted.” She adds that he has to have a little “faith in people.” Allen shows he can act as his face reflects uncertainty by looking away, and then offers a sliver of optimism with a slight smile. 

 

The film seems to ask if idealistic love can survive in a morally compromised world that doesn’t comprehend what constitutes true affection for another.

The next film is Gimme Shelter.

Phantom Thread

SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.

The title of this 2017 film, written and directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, is presented with looping lines, similar to thread being woven, but it is winding, possibly showing the twisted nature of its characters. The story takes place in the 1950’s, primarily in London, although the exact time is not specified. Alma (Vicky Krieps), is speaking to someone about famous clothes designer Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis). The name suggests stiffness, which fits Reynolds’s demeanor. The dictionary describes a woodcock as an “Old World” bird, which is in tune with the man’s desire for traditional preferences, and his resistance to change. The first shots of Reynolds show him shaving, combing his hair, trimming his nose hairs, and polishing shoes, which tells us that he is concerned about appearances, which fits his trade, but possibly to the point of not caring about the person that exists beneath the surface. The music, which features a cascading piano, sounds elegant, again reflecting Reynolds’s world. His beautiful London house is in keeping with the man’s personality, definitely not modern, sticking with tried and true designs, but also feeling a bit sterile.

Women enter the house and must ascend steep stairs to reach the exalted artistic height of their employer. They are seamstresses and are part of Reynolds’s female workforce, sewing his name in every one of his designs. They serve him, along with the house staff and the models, as he lords over them like a prince with his harem. There are many close-ups of him, the clothes, his working on drawings, and even the coffee brewing and the breakfast cakes. The camera work gives the film a microscopic sense, focused and restricted, like Reynolds’s life, and it almost feels claustrophobic. He ignores Johanna (Camilla Rutherford), the woman at his breakfast table, as she talks of sampling some food. He says without looking at her “no more stodgy days,” criticizing her mundane conversation. Reynolds’s voice is high-pitched, almost feminine, and it sounds artificial, distancing, as if he is putting on a show of upper-class diction.

His sister Cyril (Lesley Manville), (a man’s name, which, along with being his sibling, probably allows Reynolds, who has trouble relating to women, to better deal with her) joins the other two at the breakfast table. She is very prim and proper. She is also very pale, almost looking like a ghost, perhaps a remembrance of their mother, or someone who has lost some of her life force serving her brother’s artistic endeavors. She takes care of the business part of Reynolds’s occupation. Johanna says she can’t get Reynolds to focus back on her. One gets the feeling that she is one in a string of short-term girlfriends, doomed to be heading toward the exit. He says he must deliver his new dress this day and has no time for “confrontations,” which automatically means he sees her as an impediment to his creative work, not someone with whom he shares his life. For Reynolds, like many great artists, his creations take priority over people. There is an irony in that women finance his work, and he must use female models to display his craft, but they always seem to disappoint him, and he perceives them as being unworthy to wear his dresses.

Little details in the film show how Reynolds requires that everything complies with his precise way of living. For instance, Cyril walks in the house, but closes an open door, because nothing must be out of place. The Countess Henrietta Harding (Gina McKee) arrives, and he greets her warmly, since he is delivering a dress for royalty, which befits his creation. She models it for him as he seriously scrutinizes it to see if it works. He smiles, and she says it was worth all they went through, which makes it sound as if it was an ordeal to get it to meet Reynolds’s expectations. She says to put on the gown will give her “courage,” bestowing on Reynolds’s work powers to change the person that wears one of his dresses.

Reynolds meets Cyril for dinner, whom he often calls his “Old so-and-so.” It is not very affectionate, or personal, and sounds more like someone to rely on over time, which reveals Reynolds’s selfish and dependent nature. She asks what he wants to do about Johanna, who has obviously worn out (pun intended) her usefulness to him. Cyril says she is lovely, “but the time has come. And she’s getting fat sitting around waiting for you to fall in love with her again.” Cyril understands her brother’s ways, but is very direct in dealing with them. She says she will give Johanna the October dress, the fall month symbolizing the movement toward the dead of winter.

He says he has an unsettled feeling brought on by memories of their mother. He has had dreams containing her “scent,” which implies she is still close to him even after her long ago death. He admits that he feels as if she in near them, reaching out to them. He hopes his mother saw the Countess’s dress that day. He says, “It’s comforting to think the dead are watching over the living.” He is seeking her approval beyond the grave, so powerful is her impact on her son. (There will be other reference to wanting to break the limits of mortality in the movie). His mother haunts him, and there is an Oedipal element here. It may be why he has trouble relating to women because they can’t measure up to his mother.

Cyril recommends going to his country house, and he likes the idea. He goes to eat at the Victoria Hotel there and sees a waitress who stumbles about. He is drawn to her, possibly like in Pygmalion, inspiring him to transform something, that has artistic potential in its raw form, into his own creation. She takes his detailed order, then Reynolds takes what she has written down, and asks if she will remember, which she says she will. She smiles, and although this is a kind of flirting, it also seems to be a test. She remembers his order, and, after she serves him, he asks her to dinner. She already has a note ready for him, which says, “For the hungry boy, my name is Alma.” Her prepared message shows her confidence, knowing he would ask her. But, she uses the word, “boy,” not “man,” implying she correctly assesses Reynolds as childlike in his memory game with the order. Also, being “hungry” will be revisited in the story and will refer to sexual and mother-son issues.

At their dinner, Reynolds asks Alma what she thinks of what she is eating. He is observing her, not participating in the meal with her. She says she likes the sauce, but he corrects her by saying it is a custard, thus showing off his superior cultural knowledge. He wipes the lipstick off her, saying he wants to see who he is with. He is controlling the situation. She goes along with it as if it is all playful. He wants to know about her mother and says Alma should always carry a picture of her mother with her, because she should always be with Alma. This advice points to Reynolds’s attachment to his own mother. He says he carries his mother with him, tapping his jacket, which he calls the “canvas,” because he sees his clothes designs as art, like a painter. He says one can sew inside the cloth secrets, coins, words, and messages. His mother taught him his trade, and his work is her legacy that he carries on. When he was a boy he hid things in the linings of the fabric, that only he would know about. He confesses to having sewn a lock of his mother’s hair into the fabric over his breast to keep her with him. She haunts him, and he haunts others with his woven secrets, which lends weight to the movie’s title, Phantom Thread. It gives him a sense of power over the garments he sends away, makes them still his, by knowing secrets about his dresses that the owner does not.

Reynolds says he was sixteen when he sewed his mother’s second wedding dress, his father having died when Reynolds was young, contributing to the Oedipal bond. He says his nanny, the Evil Miss Blackwood, who he called “Black Death,” was ugly, (his revulsion strengthened by the fact that she was a substitute mother), and wouldn’t help him sew for fear of never marrying. He says that there are superstitions about wedding dresses, such as if you sew one, you won’t marry, or, young girls won’t marry if they touch one. There is a belief that models will marry only bald men if they put one on. Here again we have a sense of the magical power that people bestow upon clothing, making it almost a metaphor for how religious beliefs are created. Reynolds does admit that his dresses can decay, since he says the dress he made for his mother probably turned into ashes, perhaps like his mother’s body, but that is why he needs her spirit to live on. Cyril rescued him, he says, after months of sewing, helping him with the dress. Alma asks if Cyril never did marry, which she hadn’t, which suggests that maybe the superstition is true, but it is more likely she sacrificed that part of herself for her brother.

Alma says Reynolds is handsome, has been around many beautiful women, so she asks why he never married. He says he makes dresses, which may mean that those are his brides. He says he is a confirmed bachelor, “incurable,” which is an interesting word, which makes him almost admit that he may feel that his unmarried state is a form of a disease. He says marriage would make him deceitful, and doesn’t want that, maybe because he would have to lie to seem accepting of a spouse, which he knows his demanding personality would not allow. He says, “it’s the expectations and assumptions of others that cause heartache,” so women will expect him to meet their desires, not his own, which he sees as paramount. And, he always is let down by what he expects from a female partner.

Reynolds asks Alma to try on a dress, which turns their night into a very strange first date. She becomes an object, a mannequin in a way, as he pins the dress up. He tries to see which fabric would go best with her. He asks to take her measurements. Then, to add to the oddness of the night, Cyril arrives. She smells Alma, noticing sandalwood, rosewater, sherry, and lemon juice emanating from Alma, the latter because the restaurant served fish for dinner. Brother and sister have acute sense abilities as to the visual, tactile and olfactory areas. Cyril also at this point does not see Alma as an individual, only concentrating on her perception of Alma, as Reynolds only sees her in connection with his art. Cyril records Alma’s measurements, which should be personal, but become just statistics for Reynolds’s art, as she is examined like a medical patient. Alma’s expression is one of feeling uncomfortable. She quibbles over the exactness of his commands on how to stand, as a form of rebellion. He bluntly declares that she has no breasts. He says it’s okay, it’s his job to give her some, “if I choose to.” His statement shows his power over her, as if he can improve her through his, again, magical abilities, but which also shows he doesn’t accept her as she is. Cyril says she has the ideal shape, which first sounds like a compliment, but then Cyril says, “he likes a little belly,” which then takes away from the “ideal’ compliment.

In a voice-over, Alma, as she tries on another dress, says she thought she had too many physical imperfections concerning her hips, breasts, and arms, which reveals her insecurities. But, as she walks with Reynolds on the beach, he holds her hand, so she feels he is drawn to her, which makes his acceptance of her seductive. He says he has been looking for her for a very long time, but as it turns out not as a person, but as a muse whose goal is to inspire, not share, the artist’s life. She says to Reynolds “whatever you do, do it carefully,” which shows how she surrenders to him, but wants his transformation of her to be well thought out; however, it can also be a warning not to hurt her. In the voice-over, she says in his work she becomes perfect, and feels just right. She considers that maybe that is how all women in his clothes feel, which again emphasizes the almost supernatural effect that females attribute to his dresses. As Alma and Reynolds go out dressed formally for dinner, he says how beautiful she looks, and that is making him extremely hungry, which merges culinary and carnal appetites together. But, then Cyril joins them for dinner, deflating Alma’s hope for an intimate dinner. Brother and sister talk, leaving Alma out of the conversation. They stay overnight at the inn, but in separate rooms. Alma seems let down by his lack of an attempt to be romantic, Reynolds feeling more comfortable with his “old so-and-so” sister rather than initiating a physical connection with her.

Alma boasts that she can be still for a very long time, which she feels shows how she a perfect model on which Reynolds can display his dresses. While they are working he asks why she seems “forlorn.” She says maybe she doesn’t like the material of the dress she is wearing, but it is really because she is not sensing that Reynolds feels emotionally for her. Cyril is condescending when she says how the women who purchase their dresses adore the fabric. Reynolds says Cyril is right, not because of the clients, who do not rise to his level of interest, but because the fabric is beautiful, stressing the artistic component. He says snobbishly toward Alma that maybe she will eventually have some taste. She defiantly says, “Maybe I like my own taste.” He says just enough to get her into trouble, because her opinion will only lead her astray, which is way of issuing her a warning, Not wanting him to get in the last word, she defiantly says maybe she is looking for trouble. He quickly demands her to, “Stop!” He won’t tolerate her back-talk, since her view is not valued by him, or her independence in issuing it.

While at another dinner, again with Cyril, and a male acquaintance, two women approach them (we don’t see them, because they are of no importance to Reynolds), and say that one of them hopes to wear one of his dresses, and maybe be buried in one. Cyril gives them a curt thank you and says a “good night” to dismiss them. The male guest, in what is really a cruel joke, says something about maybe digging the dress up after the girl’s funeral and selling it again. Alma acts flirtatious to gain Reynolds’s attention, and suggestively asks him if he had enough to eat, and that he looks thirsty, as if implying that he may still hunger and thirst for sex.

Reynolds, aroused, drives her quickly to the London townhouse and he pulls her inside the bedroom. But the next day at breakfast, she acts familiar, kissing Reynolds before sitting down, but he doesn’t even register her existence, sketching, with no lingering affection. Cyril almost looks like she sees Alma as a complication that she will have to deal with, like another Johanna. Alma makes noise scraping her toast, clanking her butter knife, and pouring tea. He tells her not to move too much, which she, upset by his reprimand, says she isn’t moving too much, only buttering her toast. He says she is very distracting. He is like many exceptional temperamental artists who put their art first to the detriment of others. She says he pays too much attention to things, but he leaves angrily saying it’s like she rode a horse across the room, so magnified are his perceptions of his surroundings. Cyril, giving advice, says it’s better she eat breakfast after Reynolds is finished with his meal, or maybe she should eat in her room. Alma says he’s too fussy, but Alma says this quiet time of the day must not be “misused.” She informs Alma that if breakfast isn’t right, it’s hard for Reynolds to recover for the rest of the day, so fragile is his insulated, ego-centered world.

When Reynolds does dress Alma up, and her hair and makeup are done, she appears regal. He says that he had a fabric that he “rescued” from being lost, as if it was like a rare artifact, so sacred does he regard his calling. He does see her as his muse to make something of this fabric. But again, a muse is only needed in service to the artist, and not as someone divorced from that occupation. His “fussy” ways make him a perfectionist in his work, but a disaster in personal relationships. In one scene, Alma knocks on Reynolds’s door, but he won’t open it because he is “working.” He doesn’t even answer when she asks if he needs anything, implying she does not satisfy his everyday human needs outside of occasional carnal ones.

There is a showing with many models, including Alma, displaying his gowns,. He is anxious and demanding, showing anger at the models for not living up to his expectations. His exasperation drains him, and Alma says in the voice-over that he gives so much to his work that he must come down again occasionally to regenerate (this statement is actually a bit of foreshadowing). She mothers him, which is what he really wants from a woman. She drives his car for him. He lies in bed, and she brings him food. She says he is like a spoiled little baby. He is very tender, open, and she cuddles with him. We now see Alma’s voice-over comes from an interview with a man. She says Reynolds’s down times last a couple of days, and then he becomes difficult again, as we see when Alma caringly brings him tea while working, and he complains that he didn’t ask for it. He then complains that she is exceeding her boundaries by bothering him so late. She says she is removing the tea. In a very good line mirroring his self-centered view, he says, “The tea is going out. The interruption is staying right here with me.” He is not someone who goes with the flow.

While Alma is in the woods gathering mushrooms, we hear the voice of the housekeeper who told her how to identify the ones that are poisonous. This shot is a foreshadowing of what is to occur later. The scene also shows how Reynolds is hypersensitive in everything, including his food, and “detests too much butter.” He doesn’t just dislike it, but has a heightened distaste for it. Alma quietly allows him to sketch in the evening, while she knits a pattern, and they look like an old married couple, comfortable together, but not really interacting. At breakfast, Cyril mentions that a middle-aged wealthy patron, Barbara Rose (Harriet Sansom Harris), may ask Reynolds to attend her wedding, because he has been commissioned to make the gown for the ceremony. Reynolds doesn’t like the idea, probably because he feels this particular woman will especially debase his art. She says that he should accept the invitation, if he can stomach it, another reference to food, and also a bit of foreshadowing. He says to her that he wishes he heard about it later, the early news disrupting his delicate mood for the day during breakfast. But, Cyril reminds him that the woman “pays for this house,” so his sister’s business acumen forces Reynolds to compromise his artistic superiority.

Barbara Rose visits Reynolds’s London house, and Reynolds starts to fit her. She is not an easy client, as she tugs at the dress, pulling the front over her face, saying she still looks ugly, the power of his work not working the magic for her. He attempts to reassure her that he is trying to make a beautiful dress. She insists that he attend the wedding, but although he says it’s not his place, he loses the argument. While at the wedding, she again wants her dress to cover her sagging neck. At the reception, she is drunk, and must be carried out. Alma is upset for Reynolds, saying that the “dress doesn’t belong here,” and of Barbara, “She doesn’t deserve it.” Emboldened by Alma, Reynolds angrily goes to Barbara’s room, and demands the dress back. When he finds that Barbara has passed out in the dress, he sends Alma into the woman’s bedroom to take it off of her. Alma forcibly declares that Barbara can’t behave like this and be dressed by “the House of Woodcock.” After her overt declaration of allegiance, Reynolds kisses Alma passionately, and thanks her.

But, although he is polite to her, Reynolds doesn’t praise Alma to Cyril the next day. He doesn’t even introduce her to the royal guest, the Princes Braganza (Lujza Richter) who is having Reynolds make her wedding dress. (He says it will be so grand that it will be “the only wedding dress,” worthy of the name, so full of hubris is Reynolds). Alma introduces herself to the Princess, and boasts that she lives at the house, attempting to announce her importance. To show her desire to be special to Reynolds. she tells Cyril she wants the house vacated after he goes for one of his regularly scheduled walk. She wants to cook him dinner (food again, as an appetizer to being intimate?) and to dine with him alone. Cyril says it’s a bad idea, not only because it will disrupt Reynolds’s precious routine, but also she probably feels it’s a mistake for Alma to attempt to get too close to Reynolds.

On the night in question, Cyril says “good luck,” to Alma, knowing that she will need it. When Reynolds comes home, Alma tells him she loves him, which he glosses over, again not considering the feelings of another, and wants to know where Cyril is. It’s like he needs his sister with him as an anchor he’s had since his childhood, which he hasn’t really grown out of. She’s a substitute for his mother, and despite her cold ways, takes care of the unsavory aspects of the business, and protects him from the outside world. He appears neurotic as he says he has been disoriented by this disruption in his day, and says he must collect himself. He tells Alma he needs a bath first, and, although briefly acknowledging her kind act, quickly moves on to assessing her dress, her appearance, not the person wearing it, and wants to know when his safety blanket, Alma, will return. For dinner, Alma prepared the asparagus with butter, and he is appalled that she did it knowing how he likes it with oil and salt. Exasperated, she questions what is she doing there, waiting like an idiot for him, not, as we would expect, to come around to loving her, but instead to get rid of her. He says he doesn’t need her, and considers the night an ambush, and he could better be using his time alone. She complains that even when they are alone there is always distance between them. She calls him out on being rude and a bully. The rules he lays down, the stiff, unspontaneous way he goes about living, she argues, is all a game. “Nothing is normal or natural,” Alma says, and his contrivances suggest that they are really props to keep him from being evolved emotionally, looking beyond himself. He is like a “child,” who only wants to satisfy his own wants. He says that if she doesn’t like his life, then she should go back to where she came.

In the interview, Alma talks about how Reynolds needs to slow down a little once in a while. We then cut appropriately to her reading a book about mushrooms, including those that are poisonous, and the music takes on base sounds, indicating something dire is planned to “slow” Reynolds down, as Alma starts cooking. Cyril asks if Reynolds wants her to ask Alma to leave. He says no, but Cyril says he shouldn’t turn her into a ghost (making her only into a memory, like his mother, possibly because he seems to deal better with incorporeal people than live ones?). Cyril says she has grown fond of Alma and doesn’t want her to just hang around waiting for Reynolds to go to her. He acts nasty toward Cyril about her declaring her fondness for Alma. Cyril shows her strength in not allowing herself to be attacked by her brother. She says to him, “Don’t pick a fight with me. You certainly won’t come out alive. I’ll go right through you and it’ll be you who ends up on the floor. Understood?” She is reminding him how she is the strong one of the two. She can walk away, but he depends on her and is vulnerable without her support.

Reynolds is not well when he starts his day. He says the dress for the Princess is ugly, and he falls over, damaging the gown. He goes to his room and vomits. Alma comes in to comfort him, and he says it must have been something he ate. We know it was her that poisoned him, to make him dependent on her. It also shows how she is a formidable opponent. She takes off his shoes and helps him to bed, like a sick child, closing the curtains, sitting up with him, holding his hand, again assuming the role of a mother. Cyril shows up, and tells Alma to leave him, but she doesn’t. He continues to be sick, while the others try to repair the dress. He asks Alma if he will ever get better, like a scared little boy, and she helps him change his fever-soaked pajamas, assuring him she will take care of him. Cyril says the doctor has arrived, but Alma doesn’t want anyone to share in her nursing Reynolds. Cyril is adamant, and Dr. Robert Hardy (Brian Gleeson) enters to examine Reynolds. The doctor calls Alma Mrs. Woodcock, which Alma does not correct, liking that she would be considered in that esteemed role. Reynolds is rude (so what else is new?) and will not allow the doctor to examine him. He tells Alma to get rid of Hardy, showing he has given her primary control over him. Cyril tells the staff that they must get the dress ready to go to Belgium by the next morning, so the workers must work all night. While helping with the dress, Alma discovers and tears out one of Reynolds’s hidden items sewn in the dress. It is a note which reads, “Never cursed.” Perhaps Reynolds is saying that despite his circumscribed way of living, his mother didn’t put a curse on him to have to pursue his profession. But, the fact that he feels defensive about the possibility shows how he does think about leading a doomed life.

Reynolds wakes up and asks “Are you here? Are you always here?” as he stares at a chair and says he hears his mother’s voice. He says he wakes up from dreams crying when he hears her voice saying his name. We see a young woman in a wedding dress who is the apparition of his young mother. He says, “I miss you. I think about you all the time.” Alma comes in, but we still see his young mother in the corner just as Reynolds sees her. He goes downstairs in the morning and the dress is ready on the mannequin. He kisses Alma’s feet as she sleeps on the couch. After she wakes, he tells her he loves her and doesn’t want to be without her. He feels his mortality now after this illness and says he must do what he wants done sooner. He has made mistakes and repeated them and can’t ignore that anymore. He says he has to stop his “sour heart from choking.” He realizes his problems. He says he has been “cursed,” so he contradicts what he was fighting to ignore in the message. He says a house that doesn’t change is “a dead house.” He asks Alma to marry him. She hesitates for quite a while, probably intentionally torturing him for what he has put her through, but then smiles and says yes.

They do marry. But even though Reynolds looks happy briefly, when on vacation in the mountains, he looks annoyed as Alma makes noise slurping her breakfast cereal and buttering her toast. They run into Dr. Hardy at a dinner party, and Reynolds still acts rudely toward him. Dr. Hardy asks Alma at the dinner table what she is doing on New Year’s Eve. She says they will stay in, but he urges her to attend a ball since Hardy senses that Alma isn’t enjoying her life. Reynolds seems upset by Alma paying attention to the doctor. Almost as a form of childish revenge, he is disagreeable when playing backgammon, saying she is taking too long to tumble the dice, criticizing her mistakes, and condescendingly telling her she needs to be able to “count” to play the game. When she loses, he dismisses her, asking for another player. She is angry with him, and storms off. The aunt of the doctor says she is sorry for Reynolds being married to a “toddler.” It is an ironic statement, since it is Reynolds who does not act his age.

On New Year’s Eve, Alma says that they need to go dancing, and she wants to attend the ball suggested by the doctor. Reynolds refuses, and says he will be working. She leaves to go the party, probably feeling as if she is becoming a prisoner in Reynold’s isolated life. He sketches for a bit, but then leaves the house and goes to the boisterous ball. He looks for her from the balcony and sees her dancing with the crowd. He goes on the dance floor and finds her. We hear plaintive music, and he grabs her arm and drags her away. Although he treats her badly, he doesn’t want to be without her, but he wants her on his terms.

Back at work with the seamstresses, Reynolds is irritable, and walks away from his client who is trying on a dress. He confronts Cyril about why one of their long-time clients has not been around. She grudgingly informs him that the woman went to another designer for her dresses. Cyril says that the woman wanted something “chic.” Reynolds curses the word, and tells Cyril, “don’t you start using that filthy word.” He believes in using traditional styles, so despite his telling Alma he needs to change, he can’t. He says it hurts his feelings that the client went elsewhere, as if he has been betrayed. She says that she didn’t want to tell him, because now he is moaning, and she tells him nobody wants to be rejected, but his complaining “hurts my ears.” It’s like she is acting like a stern mother who is chastising a small child. Reynolds then states what is really bothering him. He says that his real problem is that he made “a mistake.” He lost his confidence, and can’t work, because Alma doesn’t fit in well in their house. He feels that she’s turned everything upside down. Again, Reynolds has trouble dealing with anyone that doesn’t play his “game,” as Alma put it. Alma entered the room and hears what Reynolds says about her. Alma says that Mrs. Vaughn, the client, is happy with the dress. Reynolds yells at her saying how he doesn’t care. He has no concern for how the horrible things he says affect her. When Cyril thanks her and Alma says you’re welcome, Reynolds sarcastically comments how polite the two are. He says there is an “an air of quiet death in this house, and I do not like the way it smells.” He earlier said that a house that does not change is a dead house. He now contradicts that statement.

Alma is cooking again, and we see her slicing the mushrooms. She cooks them in butter, which Reynolds dislikes, showing how she is doing it her, and not his, way. As she makes an omelet he sketches and reads. She serves him, as a mother feeds her child, and pours water in such a way as to make it sound very noisy, just to annoy him. He smells the food and then eats it while she looks on. He stares at her while he chews, but she told him earlier that he would lose in a staring contest with her, so we know he will lose that battle. She says, “I want you flat on your back, helpless, tender, with only me to help.” Then he’ll be strong again, she says. She tells him he might feel like he is going to die, but he won’t. Knowing that she is poisoning him, he tells her to kiss him before he becomes sick. She understands his mothering needs and how he must revert to being a helpless child who needs maternal care, because he can’t deal with the world as an adult. He says that they should call “that boy doctor” just in case. But, she says she will make him well again, and they declare their love for each other.

We find that she has been confessing all of this to the doctor. She says if Reynolds didn’t wake up from his illness, then he would be waiting for her in some afterlife, and all she would need is patience for her to get to him again. She now embodies his dead mother, a soul freed from earthly limits, so she can weave a “phantom thread” connecting herself to him. Alma then tells Reynolds that she can envision a future when there are large happy gatherings where friends and others gather. We see Alma with a baby carriage, while they take a walk as Cyril minds the baby. Alma sees herself dancing by themselves on that ballroom floor (so he can still enjoy some distance from others?). She tells Reynolds she sees herself as guardian of his dresses “keeping them from dust and ghosts and time.” There seems to be a desire for immortality through art, as he said to her earlier that he thought his life would be limitless. But, instead, he now wants to enjoy the present moment, and says that we are here right now and “I’m getting hungry.” We end with that equating of sex with food (which may be tainted with poison), as these two strange lovers continue their interesting and warped relationship.

The next film is Paths of Glory.