It's impossible to be objective about this film if you saw in the theater with your teenage daughter the night before heading to a Greek island where you blasted the soundtrack in a rental Renault with the windows down, winding through olive groves and along volcanic shorelines.
You know the old joke: last night I went to a boxing match, and a hockey game broke out. Well, I felt I went to a Merchant-Ivory film, and a Hitchcock movie broke out.
Phantom Thread seems at first to be the trope of the tortured and torturous male genius who rules over his long-suffering female enablers (e.g., Mother!); however, the more we get to know this complicated emotional triangle the more we see that it’s the opposite. It seems…
The last of his phenomenal run of British vintages is essentially a locked-room-mystery on wheels. But Hitch isn’t interested in the mystery aspect and certainly not in who the bad guys are working for, what this code-in-tune means in the first place, or how the British came to use an old governess smuggle it, or why the bad guys are so keen to steal it. If Sabotage is his Hitch’s case study in the Bomb Under the Table Theory of…