Shot in 70 mm film and set in 1950s London, Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day-Lewis) is a tailor by day but a heart-breaker by night. The lovely ladies file in daily to be nipped, tucked, and sported about as super models…long before super-model ever existed. (Think of Reynolds as the British Calvin Klein of his day.)But the movie also moves a bit Coco Before Chanel (the story even begins with a spiral staircase…the girls arriving in cattle-call saunter downward.)
When Reynolds heads to a seaside village he visits a local restaurant, lists his breakfast order – Welch Rarebit, eggs and its accompaniments – as Alma (Vickie Krieps) is the waitress scribbling it all down to perfection…she doesn’t need to take notes, because like any good Muse-in-waiting, she’s already memorized his choices. Their eyes meet and the rest is couture in the making.
Over her pour of his Lapsang tea it’s clear that Alma is pretty and witty, but more than anything, she can stare longer than he can. This is ironic as Reynold’s just declared he doesn’t have time for confrontations. But, Alma is everything he’s never come across. At least for this month. Tender but naughty, vulnerable yet confident, and a delicious recipe of what love might be for the long-standing bachelor.
Cyril (Lesley Manville) is possessively intact as Reynold’s gatekeeper. Every face of every scene with every bit of dialog delivers emotions in tight close-up expressions. Every sound, usually saturated; every vision, larger than life, mesmerizing us along. There’s a lot of pomp and circumstance even when there’s nothing to pomp about. Perhaps all the fuss is more in line with the Emperor’s New Clothes since Reynold’s ‘line’ is avant-garde-less. One highly doubts Anna Wintour will be running pages in Vogue anytime soon.
The film is hypnotic. Almost an illusion of itself. We’re not sure what we’re watching but we’re most certainly ‘in.’ The soundtrack is massive. Almost to the point of ridiculous, if it weren’t so beautiful to listen to…each piano key draws us deeper ‘in’ like the swing of a gold pendulum that mantras, ‘You’re getting sleepy.”
In the end we learn that there’s a wild twist on how to keep a man. I’ll leave it at that.
This is to be Day-Lewis’s final role. Good thing he “sews secrets into the lining of his clothes.” We’ll need those momentos long after he’s gone. This delicate film may not be the thread that weaves all his past performances together. Can you say My Left Foot in a house of couture? Not even close.
3 tiaras