I will never forget my first viewing of Phantom Thread. The opening alone has stayed with me for years. It continues to be one of the most pleasurable sensory experiences I have ever encountered. Hearing Jonny Greenwood’s breathtaking score as we see Reynolds Woodcock's morning routine. One by one, the seamstresses file into place in the workshop. Rooms are set up, coats are put on and breakfast is served. Everything is done with so much precision and attention to detail, and it is so gorgeous and satisfying to watch. It’s like Paul Thomas Anderson himself is massaging your brain and whispering, “Relax, I’ve got you.”
Not only is it stimulating in the best way possible, but it sets up the movie perfectly. The House of Woodcock is immaculate. Every single thing is expected to be done meticulously, with zero room for error. Shortly after the opening sequence, during breakfast, Reynolds' lover (at the time) calmly mentions her feelings of neglect to him. What does Reynolds have to say? “I cannot begin my day with a confrontation, please….I simply don’t have time for confrontations.” ….And that’s it. She is gone and out of sight. In the House of Woodcock, nothing is to throw him off from his perfectly structured life.
Now I’m not saying Reynolds is to be applauded for this behaviour. Far from it. This is clearly a ridiculously sensitive man who has had every demand met and every tantrum answered to. I couldn’t imagine going through life with such high expectations for the world around you. It must be such an exhausting and frustrating way to live life. The rest of the film itself explores the strain it puts on his relationship with his lover and muse, Alma, and their struggles to coexist with his rigid, tyrannical ways.
….and yet….I kind of relate to him. Look, I’m not the head of an elite fashion house or anything like that. But as someone who partakes in the arts, I understand that need for control. For a creative person, a routine can be crucial to allow oneself to think freely without being distracted by the everyday frustrations of the world. Taking your work seriously and having high expectations of yourself and those around you is necessary to accomplish goals. I mean, there’s a reason I gush about the opening of the film in the way that I do. That level of exactitude really appeals to me, and I imagine many artists would feel the same.
But I’m not like Reynolds. Of course not. I would never go that far! I am empathetic to those around me. I wouldn’t push around my loved ones for my own desires right?.....Right?
I have been working in the film industry for two and a half years. My dream is to one day become a full-time writer/director. While I love to romanticize the artistic life I have chosen for myself, in practice, it has been far from it. For the last few years, I worked as a production assistant on film sets: the glorious entry into the film industry as I was routinely told. It was 15-hour days on a set, usually far from where I live, from first thing in the morning to the late hours of the night, and a whole lot of sitting around doing nothing. And not in the “oh yay, I can just sit and watch movies all day,” way. In the “I have to sit and watch this truck for 12 hours” way.
To make matters worse, consistent gigs were near impossible to come by, so I supplemented my income by working in retail. The balancing act of the two jobs was brutal. I never had a set schedule. I never had a clear idea of when I was working, sometimes right up until the night before. I was exhausted, and above all, very frustrated that these were the circumstances I found myself in. I hated being a production assistant, and I hated working in retail. I want to be clear as well: I am all for everyone paying their dues and putting in the work to get ahead. We all need to start somewhere. For me, the lifestyle it put me in was not one I expected, wanted or enjoyed AT ALL.
At the beginning of 2026, I was approaching two and a half years of life at this pace. I felt stuck. As January was drawing to a close, I decided that it was time for some change. I quit my job in retail and decided to see if I could give this film dream my full focus. I had no backup plan. I had no gigs lined up that I could go straight into. It was a complete leap of faith. And it was a very shaky time. The last five months were quite a rollercoaster. There had been a lot of doubt and frustration, but I reclaimed a huge part of my life that had been missing for a long time: control.
Being unemployed and gig-hopping (when gigs were actually available) was wonderful because I could live on my own terms in a way that I hadn’t in the last two and a half years. I could spend my free days more or less as I pleased. I didn’t have to keep days available, wondering if I’d be working the next day. It gave me a lot of time to get back into writing and focusing on my film goals. It was amazing. I loved having all that time back. Work opportunities were tough, but I managed. Creative progress was slow, but I kept chipping away at projects. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the exact change of pace I needed.
However, as I mentioned, work opportunities were a struggle. I often went several weeks without income. Seeing the writing on the wall, I realized I also couldn’t continue life at this pace either. I needed a change. Given that I was burning through saved income, I felt I could at least be putting it to better use so I decided to solo travel for a month. So off I went. Once again, it was a wonderful experience, and it helped me further feel that sense of control over my life again.
The trip came to a close. I returned and was fortunate to find myself FINALLY offered a job. A job that I actually enjoyed, as well. Things were really starting to come together. I felt like my life was finally heading in the right direction….
Out of the blue, my girlfriend sat me down and told me how she had been feeling over the last few months. She was glad that I was feeling a lot happier, but noticed that I had become much more self-absorbed over the last few months. I was very caught up in myself and my career ambitions. I was not checking in with her or her needs. Limiting our date options because of my lack of income put a strain on our relationship. Going off on a trip by myself for a month added fuel to that fire. I was being neglectful, and I hadn’t even realized it. I had turned into Reynolds Woodcock.
I was shocked, but we talked it out and came to a common understanding. Taking a step back and realizing how I had only been thinking about my needs for several months led me to becoming a negligent partner. I mean, telling someone we could no longer go out for dates because I was now unemployed is a big ask for any relationship. Telling someone to wait for me for a month while I solo travel is an even taller order. How had I not realized this? How had I let my own desires take over my attention to my loved ones? My demand for control over my life had led me to be neglectful.
So at this phase, I have realized the importance of that balancing act, and how easy one can fall into the trap of self-indulgence if permitted. Now I’m not saying I was completely wrong for reclaiming my life decisions; it was obviously worth it. However, it was not worth the strain it had put on my relationship. It has raised an important question for me to face in my life: where does personal ambition end and egocentric behaviour begin? Is it possible to achieve the highest of heights while maintaining healthy relationships? I’m not sure. I guess I’ll have to see.
The demanding nature of Reynolds Woodcock is one that I find fascinating because I recognize that desire within myself. I never would have expected that I would end up losing sight of those around me. This recent conversation has been an important wake-up call and something I must keep in check as I continue pursuing my creative and personal goals. As much as I love the appearance of Reynolds Woodcock’s life, I wouldn’t actually want that for my own. For now, when I want to tap into it, I’ll just stick to rewatching the opening of the film.
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