I’ve been avoiding rewatching Phantom Thread for a full year now. There’s this strange fear I have about my favorite films, as if the sacredness of the first viewing will scatter into dust when I watch it a second time, and I will have to repeatedly lie to myself into loving it with the same sincerity as the first, despite that nagging feeling telling me the magic has disappeared. But, with this second viewing, I grew to love Phantom Thread even more. Instead of the buzzing anticipation of watching a new Paul Thomas Anderson film in theaters, my experience this time is one of complete immersion into a world I once loved, one I was so dying to return to in 2019. Aspects of the film I didn’t care for previously— like a feverish Reynolds speaking to his mother— take on a whole new perspective now. I think I said this in my first review last year, but Phantom Thread is my film, perfectly tailored to me and everything I adore. I am just so in love with this film.