Another Paul Thomas Anderson's film with a mercurial and toxic genius as the main character. The recycling trope is a bit insufferable at this point.

The thespian Daniel Day Lewis does enough inhibiting that role with his stern and rigid charm. His demanding is also enough to conquer his love interest to blindly concede to him, although he treats her like one of the mannequins being forced to display the dress he tailored.

Initially, she appears with naivette but later grows as a manipulative femme fatale. Despite, the lack of charater background makes her motive seems so vague dan complicit, consequently leads to an impared power balance between man and woman in this narrative.

Nevertheless, the quientesscential element in this film is placed on the meticulous visual imagery that keeps inducing the unsettling sense of dread, from the very start until your last breath.