Dir: Paul Thomas Anderson, with Daniel Day-Lewis, Vicky Krieps and Lesley Manville
Great title, and a beautiful-looking film. Day-Lewis is an incredibly fastidious, self-centred couturier and Krieps is a much younger waitress whom he moulds into his muse. The film created its own world around clothes, what they can do to a woman, the intricacies of creating them, and by that I was beguiled. The particular relationship between the two protagonists – he demanding and inflexible, she increasingly wanting more than he was willing to give – was the focus. And then she gives him some poisonous mushrooms and devotedly nurses him back to health, at which point he asks her to marry him. The marriage seems to be going awry, so she does it a second time . . . with his blessing, and the live happily ever after.
I gave up at this point: I didn’t really care to be part of their folie à deux. It might be mildly interesting to speculate that someone so meticulous would welcome the mess and lack of control of being poisoned by his wife, but I really couldn’t be bothered.