Of course she is wearing this dress in Woodcock’s aberration. Our only prior knowledge of his mother is that he made his first dress for her. One night Woodcock has a feverish dream and hallucinates that he sees his deceased mother. Woodcock’s desire for maternal care becomes evident in his illness. As Woodcock’s doctor is called, Alma insists on taking care of him and commenting that, “sometimes he needs a break.” These words would never be uttered by Cyril, she is too focused on Woodcock’s productivity. But Alma is seeking something else from Woodcock.
This scene could easily be seen as Alma returning Woodcock’s abuse blow for blow. At the lowest point in Alma and Woodcock’s relationship Alma literally serves up a dish of revenge in the form of a mushroom omelet. Alma is able to fill a space in Woodcock’s life that Cyril can not.Īlma provides the maternal care that Woodcock is missing.
Throughout the movie Cyril’s attitude toward Alma changes from skeptical to appreciative. Cyril is engrained in Woodcock’s life - a devotee, who helped him finish his first dress as a teenager. The same goes for Cyril, a third component of this love affair. In one of the most captivating scenes of the film, Woodcock peeks through an eye hole at Alma modeling a dress, as her body loosely dances through the room, while the other models remain stiff. Alma’s clumsiness is the obvious foil to Woodcock’s stoicism, and her antagonisms invigorate Woodcock’s work. The movie follows the affair of Woodcock and his current live in muse, Alma (Vicky Krieps). This precision carries over into Woodcock’s love life. His seamstresses, dressed in all white, move swiftly and quietly through the house.
Woodcock spends the majority of his day working in his home, which also serves as his workshop, assisted by sister, Cyril (Lesley Manville). Woodcock’s work is his religion and his monkish devotion to his work has accelerated him to the zenith of the fashion world.
Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day Lewis) is a successful luxury dress maker in 1950s London. Paul Thomas Anderson’s latest film, Phantom Thread, feels like his most delicate creation yet: an intimate illustration of the complexity and mishmash of romantic relationships.