In early 1950's Britain, Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis) is the most sought-after dress designer among the rich and powerful. He lives a regimented, almost monastic life, with his watchful sister Cyril (Lesley Manville) as his close associate. One day Reynolds meets waitress Alma (Vicky Krieps) and takes her on as his muse, model, lover, whatever he needs. Alma learns that she's not the first to fill this position in Reynolds' life, but she becomes determined to be the last.
I could care less about the fashion world or Haute Couture, and yet I still was drawn into the single-minded obsessive artistry of Reynolds' world, his strict discipline and pursuit of perfection within his chosen field. Alma acts as an audience surrogate, unsure of this odd world led by the often inscrutable Reynolds and Cyril, the latter of whom often has the charm of an asp. But as Alma begins to see the way things work in this cloistered, rarefied world, she begins to find ways to upset it and bend it to her advantage. Cyril is naturally distrusting of this latest distraction, but Reynolds seems to find something in this new, shaky lifestyle of uncertainty.
The performances are fantastic, with Day-Lewis once laying claim to the title of greatest actor of his generation. He complex, unique yet very real, without a single false note. Manville was also singled out for awards consideration, and she's scary, pitiful, powerful, and voice for order and tradition. Vicky Krieps, a native of Luxembourg, is subtle, sharp, and a match for Day-Lewis as the seemingly simple, unworldly Alma.
The filmmaking is concise and largely unobtrusive, letting the characters do the work, often with silent looks and facial expressions. Director Anderson did not use a Director of Photography on this, instead working with the camera operators themselves. The result is spontaneous but not amateur looking, with a slight gritty haze that makes many scenes almost dream-like. It's not a look that I would like to see in a lot of films, but it works here among the chilly environments both exterior and interior. The score by Jonny Greenwood, guitarist and songwriter from Radiohead, is surprisingly subdued, mainly light piano pieces, with some flourishes when needed.
I won't pretend that a lot of viewers will like this, as they might find it slow, pretentious, boring, or pointless. I certainly did not, and found it a deep, and even deeply disturbing, look at a unique type of love fostered by unusual people, told in a compelling, if quiet, way. This is more for the Masterpiece Theatre crowd than the Fast and the Furious crowd. I would rank this among the very best of the year 2017. Highly Recommended.
I could care less about the fashion world or Haute Couture, and yet I still was drawn into the single-minded obsessive artistry of Reynolds' world, his strict discipline and pursuit of perfection within his chosen field. Alma acts as an audience surrogate, unsure of this odd world led by the often inscrutable Reynolds and Cyril, the latter of whom often has the charm of an asp. But as Alma begins to see the way things work in this cloistered, rarefied world, she begins to find ways to upset it and bend it to her advantage. Cyril is naturally distrusting of this latest distraction, but Reynolds seems to find something in this new, shaky lifestyle of uncertainty.
The performances are fantastic, with Day-Lewis once laying claim to the title of greatest actor of his generation. He complex, unique yet very real, without a single false note. Manville was also singled out for awards consideration, and she's scary, pitiful, powerful, and voice for order and tradition. Vicky Krieps, a native of Luxembourg, is subtle, sharp, and a match for Day-Lewis as the seemingly simple, unworldly Alma.
The filmmaking is concise and largely unobtrusive, letting the characters do the work, often with silent looks and facial expressions. Director Anderson did not use a Director of Photography on this, instead working with the camera operators themselves. The result is spontaneous but not amateur looking, with a slight gritty haze that makes many scenes almost dream-like. It's not a look that I would like to see in a lot of films, but it works here among the chilly environments both exterior and interior. The score by Jonny Greenwood, guitarist and songwriter from Radiohead, is surprisingly subdued, mainly light piano pieces, with some flourishes when needed.
I won't pretend that a lot of viewers will like this, as they might find it slow, pretentious, boring, or pointless. I certainly did not, and found it a deep, and even deeply disturbing, look at a unique type of love fostered by unusual people, told in a compelling, if quiet, way. This is more for the Masterpiece Theatre crowd than the Fast and the Furious crowd. I would rank this among the very best of the year 2017. Highly Recommended.