MOODY BLUES

 

A seemingly simple but stunning artwork by Lee Everett Blair (1911-1993). A piece of concept art created for the live-action silhouetted orchestra shots leading iinto the opening, abstract sequence of Fantasia (1940) featuring Bach's 'Toccata and Fugue in D minor' as orchestrated and conducted by Leopold Stokowski and the Philadelphia Orchestra.

Blair was an American artist, born in Los Angeles and died in Soquel, California, and was the younger brother of Preston Blair and husband of Mary Blair.

A RIGHT ROYAL AFFAIR

Everyone's going nuts over Amazon Prime's Red, White & Royal Blue the gay rom-com based on Casey McQuiston's best-selling book of the same name. The premise: an enemies-to-friends-to-lovers story in which the Romeos in question are, respectively, the son of the first female President of the United States and the second (and therefore 'spare') son of the King of England.

 

It's not difficult to see why it's a hit: it's quirky and, obviously, 'queerky'; it's corny, cute and sweetish (though mercifully not over-sugared); it's fluffy, fuzzy and funny – if quite a long way short of Richard-Curtis-style comedy. And, in case you wondered, its lead actors (Taylor Zakhar Perez and Nicholas Galitzineare) are unashamed eye-candy-men and their relationship is... well...HOT. And I mean hot in a way that future seasons of Heartstopper cannot (and absolutely shouldn't) think of trying to emulate.

 

However, the high-octane sexiness is craftily filtered through a golden lens of innocence, so that the messiness of lust and desire are neatly neutralised by the honest-to-goodness purity of true love's dream.

 

If the film is 'about' anything, it's a hotch-potch of musings about Politics and Protocols, Duty, Family and Country and what happens when they impinge on individual choice and personal happiness.

 

Matthew López's direction is workmanlike – which is a compliment rather than a criticism, because it never gets in the way of the storytelling. The supporting cast (including Uma Thurman as POTUS) are good-to-excellent with the notable exception of Stephen Fry's toe-curling cameo as the King of England, which is self-consciously awkward and, frankly, both miscast and misplayed – although, thankfully, for only one scene towards the end of the movie!

 

The problem with Red, White & Royal Blue (and, I'm sorry, but there is a problem) is simply that these fairy-tale kingdom versions of White and Buck Houses and are burdened by too many attempts to draw (or imply) parallels with characters already familiar to viewers of The Crown. 

 

The 'Let's Pretend' Britain found here could have been more convincingly sold to us had it strayed into a more Ruritanian representation of privilege, position, pomp-and-circumstance instead of employing character names like Philip, Beatrice and, especially, Prince Henry – better known as Harry – which have totally misleading implications of satire that really does not serve this slight but entertaining story of the romance between Britain's Prince Charming and Washington's Mr Disarming.

 

 

FISHY BUSINESS

Dear Walt Disney Productions,

 

Forgive my asking, but what was so bad about your 1989 animated film, THE LITTLE MERMAID, that you felt compelled to remake it in live-action – seemingly frame-for-frame – with far less appealing characterisations and nothing much extra other than an altogether predicable exercise in inclusivity box-ticking.

 

Yours sincerely,

 

The Ghost of Walt Disney

 

 

MUMMY-FIXATION

Iconic 1932 horror film poster in unbelievably pristine condition, radiant with vibrant colours and totally fantastic is predicted to fetch up to $1.5 million at Sotherby's Halloween auction.

The background...

"This auction offers the opportunity to acquire one of the rarest, most highly-coveted film posters in existence: an original copy of the poster for 1932’s horror classic The Mummy.

"A stone lithograph printed to promote the film’s debut in 1932, this exceptionally well-preserved poster is a seminal example of the graphic design pioneered by Hollywood studios at the time.

"Designed by Karoly Grosz, Universal’s advertising art director, the poster is an early representation of the aesthetics that continue to influence poster design to this day: vivid, painterly splashes of color, a dynamic composition, and minimal white space.

"Depicting Boris Karloff, in the title role that cemented his place as a film icon, and Zita Johann, the subject of his mummy’s desire, the poster was exclusively created for theaters’ promotional purposes and never made available to the public. 

"Given the ephemeral nature of posters from this era — most were pasted over or discarded after a film’s run — this piece is incredibly rare: it is one of only three examples known to still exist and remains in its original, un-backed state. After setting the record for the highest price achieved for a film poster when sold by Sotheby’s in 1997, this piece was included in the Whitney Museum’s 1999 exhibition The American Century: Art and Culture 1900-2000.

"Among collectors, the posters for horror films of the 1930s are revered as the most desirable of all. This period, known as the Golden Age of Horror, ushered in a new genre of cinema and a new approach to marketing movies. As silent movies gave way to talkies, horror films employed all the latest technological innovations to craft movies that shocked and provoked. Universal set the template for horror as we know it with a trio of films: The Mummy, Frankenstein and Dracula. These movies tapped into the fears and societal unrest between the World Wars, using Hollywood magic to transport audiences to fantastical worlds where good fought evil.

"Posters from this era played a key role in horror films’ impact, defining the images that would haunt audiences and loom in the cultural memory. Released ten years after the discovery of King Tutankhamen’s tomb, The Mummy is not only an emblem of cinematic history but a relic of popular culture from the time. The film married the vogue for all things Egyptian with the allure of the supernatural, providing a snapshot of the nation’s fascinations. The Mummy was unique in utilizing ambiance and aesthetics to create a sense of foreboding, rather than relying on thrill-inducing gimmicks, which makes the poster such a landmark piece of design. Undoubtedly one of the finest posters produced during this groundbreaking era in Hollywood, and the single best-preserved example to ever come to market,The Mummy is an invaluable cultural artifact."

And, if you'll pardon the pun, that just about wraps it up!

HUSH, HUSH, WHISPER WHO DARES...

I've just noticed that the DVD of Goodbye Christopher Robin is online as a pre-order item which reminds me that I never wrote about the film when it opened, despite having attended the premiere.

The film garnered mixed – indeed polarised – reviews with critiques ranging from:

"Goodbye Christopher Robin touches something bigger than its own ambitions. It touches, in a way movies rarely do, on some essential current of life" to "The film's main conflict is with its source material, twisting and wringing A A Milne's life for everything it's worth and hoping enough is squeezed out to qualify as a film"; and from "the movie's focus on the caustic effects of celebrity make this narrative set in the first half of the 20th century particularly relevant for the media-frenzied 21st" to "everything in this too-too movie feels overfermented, off".

For me, watching the film was a curious experience, mainly because I know too much about the subject. I have a written books, radio plays and programmes touching on the movie's story-line, as well as having known the 'real life Christopher Robin' and corresponded with his mother, his nanny and the artist, Ernest H Shepard who drew the unforgettable illustrations. So, my judgement is probably tainted with both too much knowledge of How Things Actually Were and an abiding affection for the collaboration between Milne and Shepard that created two books of verses about 'Christopher Robin' (and other children) and two books of stories about Winnie-the-Pooh, Piglet, Eeyore and the rest of the inhabitants of the 100 Aker Wood that have been literally life-long friends.

Trying to view the film dispassionately is, therefore, quite difficult. But let me try...

The first thing that needs to be said is that the scenario dexterously walks the perilous tightrope between sentiment and sentimentality; and the screenplay – by the absurdly talented Frank Cottrell-Boyce – merges the factual with the fictional while deftly coping with the difficulty of not being able to quote from the books (due to their being the copyright property of the Disney Company) while providing sufficient memory-triggering imagery to take our minds to where the screenwriter wants us to be. So, for example, a scene in which Mr Milne and his young son track their own footsteps through the snow carries us back to a snowy spinney where Pooh and Piglet do something similar without once having to mention the word 'Woozle'.

Simon Curtis has a light but sure hand on the directorial tiller and is served well by his cast: Domhnall Gleeson and Margot Robbie as Alan and Daphne Milne – the former abstracted by shattering experiences from the First World War, the latter a rather self-absorbed '20s socialite – Kelly Macdonald as Olive, the nanny who is closer to the Milne's child than they are, and young Will Tilston (a stunning debut) as the 8-year-old Christopher and Alex Lawther as his, later, 18-year-old self.

The photography by Ben Smithard is full of great beauty – the authentic across-the-seasons Ashdown Forest settings are achingly exquisite featuring the genuine Poohsticks Bridge and the Milne's actual country home, Cotchford Farm.

Some quibbles are inevitable (from a veteran Poohologist) and are easily explained by the need of charactersation and dramatic tension, but it was hard to accept the 'chummy' friendship between Milne and Shepard who – despite their common experiences during the Great War – were never close friends but only ever professional collaborators; and, whilst there is hardly a photograph or portrait of Milne where is depicted without his pipe, there's not a whiff of 'Old Holborn' evident in this writer's study. No doubt the same restrictions on certification meant that the society cocktail party in the film is a similarly smoke-free zone.

But, as I say, these are trivialities (as is the curious decision to give the clean-shave Shepard an unnecessary moustache); however, my overwhelming concern (is that too extreme a word?) about Goodbye Christopher Robin is the way it has impacted on the Truth, whatever that is...

The thing is: the film is the story of how celebrity distorted the life of the title character by fictionalising the young Christopher Milne into that literary character 'Christopher Robin' who said his prayers, went to watch the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace and lived in a tree in the middle of the forest with talking animals.

The film asks us to mourn the cost of that distortion (whilst simultaneously celebrating the brilliance of the books that resulted from it) but in doing so, Goodbye Christopher Robin inevitably fictionalises the story yet again, taking it further from, not closer to, the truth. The image of A A Milne sitting on the top of the Ashdown Forest alongside his son – interchangeably as a child and as a man – suggests a sense of understanding and reconciliation between them that is an emotionally satisfying coda, but one that is basically, and sadly, untrue.

The balance is redressed by the fact that my friend and Pooh-colleague, Ann Thwaite who, in 1990, wrote the definitive biography of A A Milne has now written a new book with a partially-similar title to the film, Goodbye Christopher Robin: A A Milne and the Making of Winnie-the-Pooh.

The book tells the story as it really was, completing the picture with a fuller understanding of who Milne was (his reputation – now largely forgotten – as a premier Punch humorist, essayist, writer of light and a hugely successful West End and Broadway dramatist) and what made him tick, his relationship with Daphne ("I married her because she laughed at my jokes") and the impact of the social mores existing among the upper and upper-middle classes of the 1920s which often resulted in the bond between child and nanny that had greater resonance than between child and mother.

Anne's full biography is also still in print, A A Milne: His Life, as is Milne's own account of How-Things-Were (just reprinted) It's Too Late Now: The Autobiography of a Writer.

And anyone who really wants to know what it was like growing up and growing older as 'Christopher Robin' should read Christopher Milne's brilliantly written reflection – by turn, sharply painful and deeply moving – The Enchanted Places: A Childhood Memoir which, thanks to the film, is back in print.

 
Also recently published is James Campbell's The Art of Winnie-the-Pooh: How E H Shepard Illustrated an Icon containing a exceptional gallery of illustrations – many published for the first time – but which is so riddled with errors of identification, as to make the book anything but the last word on Shepard's artistry and his contribution to the mythology of the 100 Aker Wood.

And, finally, anyone seeking more news on Pooh can always consult my own Three Cheers for Pooh...

S'WONDERFUL!

 

Here's a piece of vintage Sibley radio (from 1997) celebrating Frank Capra –– the man who told us that IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE...

GOLDBERG, HIRSCHFELD & DISNEY, INC – or INK!

One of my graphic heroes is Al Hirschfeld (1903-2003), the legendary caricaturist, responsible for hundreds of memorable black and white pen-portraits of many of the greatest stars and and most cerebrated of celebrities – all drawn with a fluid, flowing, calligraphic  line that captures the personality with such astonishing accuracy that a Hirschfeld likeness is unmistakable.

Every drawing features his famous block-of-lines signature (see left) and is known to conceal the name of his daughter 'Nina' in one or more places in the design.

Here's a few reminders of Hirschfeld's genius...

And this Hirschfeld cartoon takes me to the point where I can explain the title of today's blog post...

The subject is Eric Goldberg one of a new golden age of Disney animators responsible for – among others – this memorable character...

It only takes a glance to see that Eric Goldberg was channelling Hirschfeld in his designs for the Genni in Aladdin. Goldberg's stylish homage earned him the master's friendship and permission to use the Hirschfeld-look for the stunning 'The Rhapsody in Blue' sequence in Fantasia 2000.

Now Goldberg has taken up his Hirschfeldian pen and drawn a gallery of famous Disney characters created in the style of the caricatured star portraits on the walls of New York's famous Sardi's Restaurant.

These will eventually be displayed on the walls of an American diner at the forthcoming Shanghai Disneyland, but to save you having to wait until the newest Disney park is open, these brilliant drawings have been collected into a stylish volume from Disney Editions: An Animator's Gallery - Eric Goldberg Draws the Disney Characters with a text by David A. Bossert and a Foreword by John Lasseter.

An Animator's Gallery features hundreds of classic characters from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs to Frozen via Pinocchio, Fantasia, Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland and Peter Pan, Sleeping Beauty, 101 Dalmatians, The Jungle Book, The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast and The Lion King.

Every page should prove a delight for Disney and Hirschfeld fans alike and, indeed, for anyone who shares my enjoyment of the graphic art of black-and-white pen-and-inkmandship...

DISNEY DAMES

My 1998 BBC six-part radio series, Disney's Women, celebrating Walt Disney's leading ladies which I originally co-presented with Walt's daughter, the late Diane Disney Miller, is currently being re-broadcast as three one-hour programmes on BBC Radio 2.

Diane and I discuss all those famous Disney heroines – Snow White, Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, Mary Poppins, Ariel and Belle (oh, yes, and not forgetting Minnie Mouse!) – as well those wicked queens, cruel stepmothers and other menacing villainesses, such as the dalmatian-fur-obsessed Cruella de Vil! The series also explores the importance and influence of Walt's mother, Flora Disney, his wife, Lillian and their two daughters.

In addition to my co-presenter, many of those whom I interviewed for the series are, sadly, no longer with us  which gives it an added poignancy to the programmes as well as providing a remarkable archive of the women (and men!) who were responsible for the memorable female characters in Disney movies: among the role-call of the departed are artists and animators, Marc Davis, John Hench, Joe Grant, Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnston, Disney executive, Roy E Disney and biographer Bob Thomas and my dear friend and most intuitive of Disney historians, Robin Allan.

The series – produced by my good pal and colleague, Malcolm Prince – examines the work of artists Mary Blair and Alice Davis as well as featuring the work of the singers and actresses who gave voice (and sometimes provided live-action inspiration) for the Disney ladies from Adriana Caselotti (Snow White), Ilene Woods (Cinderella) and Katherine Beaumont (Alice and Wendy) to Jodi Benson (Ariel) and Ming-Na Wen (Mulan). There are also contributions from Richard M Sherman, who with his late brother, Robert B Sherman, wrote the songbook of '60s childhood and, of course, Dame Julie Andrews who sang some of their most famous songs!

Disney's Women is being broadcast on BBC Radio 2 on Tuesday evenings at 10:00 pm and episodes are available afterwards on BBC iPlayer for 30 days.

You will find current listening details here


A common comment that I receive when an old programme of mine such as this gets repeated runs along the lines of: 'More cash rolling into the Sibley coffers, courtesy of the BBC!' Oh, if only they knew: this series would not normally carry any repeat fee, but – on this occasion – only because I had to go into Broadcasting House to record updated the opening and closing announcements, I will be getting the princely sum of £200!

Ah, well, never mind, at least it's nice to know that people will get a chance to hear again what was once a regular radio voice...

THE COUNT AND I

I consider myself fortunate to have so many personal memories of the late Sir Christopher Lee – mainly through our joint association with The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit film trilogies: a mere handful out of his astonishing 206 movie appearances...

We first met in 1973, when I was a guest of Peter Cushing at Pinewood Studio where he was filming Nothing But the Night with Diana Dors and Christopher Lee. I remember Peter introducing me to this imposing figure who was as austere and as intimidating as you might expect him to be from so many of his roles.

Not long after, my best friend and I (confirmed film nuts) bought tickets for a BAFTA award ceremony at the National Film Theatre and found ourselves sitting behind Christopher. Eager to impress my chum, I accosted the actor as we were getting up to leave the theatre and sought to remind him of our meeting at Pinewood. Of course, he had absolutely no recollection whatsoever of the occasion and I should have let it go at that, but – in a vain attempt to prolong the non-conversation – I stammered: 'So, how is Peter Cushing?' Raising his busy brows and giving me a withering look, he replied snappishly: 'We don't live together, you know.'

When, many years later, over lunch at my then London club, I plucked up the courage to recount this exchange, he was graciously penitent about the put-down. Another memory of that lunch was listening to Christopher, an exceptional linguist (who had just been quoting J R R Tolkien to me – in Elvish), conversing with the club's Cypriot maître d' in both Greek and Turkish. On that and other occasions, he shared his seemingly inexhaustible fund of anecdotes including personal memories of Tolkien and two other shared literary heroes, C S Lewis and M R James. 

One prickly encounter occurred at Cannes early in 2001, where the preview footage of The Fellowship of the Ring was being screened. I was showing the proofs of my first Official Movie Companion to members of the cast for them to check the biographical details. Having read the entry on himself, Christopher looked up, frowning: 'I don't believe I have actually played Dracula as many times as you say here.' Standing my ground, I replied: 'I think you did...' He glowered and, handing back the proof, said: 'Well, even I did, I don't think we need to say how many, do you?' So, of course, we didn't!

Then there was Dominic Monaghan's 26th birthday party (coinciding with the December 2002 premiere of The Two Towers) at an expensive restaurant in Paris. Cast and other talent were present and I was seated with WETA Workshop's Richard Taylor on one side and Christopher and his wife, Gitte, on the other. After the first two courses, Christopher and Gitte decided to slip away, in order to be rested for the following day's premiere exertions. Getting up from his seat, Christopher murmured: 'Settle up what we owe when the bill comes, there's a good fellow and I'll sort it with you tomorrow.' I had what was an anxious hour, uncertain whether – if I ordered desert and coffee – I would have enough euros for the Lees' dinners and my own! Mercifully, when the bill did arrive, it was instantly snaffled by producer Barrie Osborne, who paid for all present.

I spent a good number of hours interviewing Christopher for The Lord of the Rings DVD bonus discs, invariably getting into trouble from Gitte for keeping him too long in front of the camera; although, in truth, I was never to blame since, whenever I made an attempt to wrap the interview, Christopher would always embark on yet another round of stories. 

Our most memorable interview, however, was a remote one, via telephone. It was 2008 and David and I are having lunch in our local pub when my mobile rings. I answer and hear the familiar basso profundo tones: 'Is that Brian Sibley?'  

'Hello, Christopher.'

'How did you know it was me? I was disguising my voice!' 

He has just finished reading my biography of Peter Jackson in which PJ relates a story about directing Christopher's death scene as Saruman in The Return of the King. Pete had asked Christopher to give a great scream when Grima stabs him in the back, but Christopher had explained that somebody stabbed in the back would never cry out, but would simply give a sharp exhalation of breath. So, PJ wanted to know, how come Christopher knew this? The answer: because he had been in the Special Air Services (SAS).

'Peter,' says the voice on the phone, 'was incorrect in telling that because I was, in fact, in the SAS Reserve.'

I apologise: 'I should have checked with you...'

'It's alright,' he replies, 'I have spoken to the Head of the SAS this morning and explained the situation and that you are not to blame.'

I am then treated (not for the first time) to a detailed analysis of why Peter was wrong to have cut the aforementioned scene from the theatrical release of The Return of the King ('Saruman has been established as a nemesis for two movies and then simply disappears?!') This complaint, in turn, prompts a tirade about the fact that his recent appearance in Tim Burton's film of Stephen Sondheim's Sweeney Todd has also been cut. The intention had been for the film to begin with Christopher singing the musical's opening song, 'The Ballad of Sweeney Todd', which, in the stage show, establishes Todd's character and the narrative style.

'You know the number, I presume?' he enquires, but before I can reply he has launched into the song with great gusto. I thought to myself, I will never forget this moment: I am sitting in a pub, eating pie and mash, while Christopher Lee sings Sondheim to me down the phone!

He was, of course, noted for his idiosyncratic discography: from Mussorgsky's 'The Song of the Flea' to Frank Sinatra's 'My Way' – not forgetting his memorable Heavy Metal version of 'The Little Drummer Boy'! A pity then that the world at large was denied his screen rendition of the Sweeney Todd song, but I can hear it still...

That marathon telephone conversation (though it was more of a monologue than a conversation) ran for over an hour, until the 'low battery' warning on the phone was flashing with increasing rapidity. Just before finally defeating my Nokia's endurance levels, Christopher made a surprisingly unguarded comment about someone connected with The Lord of the Rings and, when I laughed, added sternly: 'And you will not repeat that, Brian Sibley, do you understand? Remember, I still have a number of very good friends in the SAS!'

Farewell, Christopher, the world is an immeasurably duller place for your passing...

Sir Christopher Frank Carandini Lee

(1922–2015)

Caricature by Bast

POST-HASTE

If you haven't started tackling the Christmas card list, you'll need to get cracking as (in the UK) you're just a week away from the Last Posting Dates.

As an incentive here's a little animated film from 1949 by that wonderful silhouette artist, Lott Reiniger...

Not sure who's voice Santa is using, but I'm pretty sure that St Peter is played by veteran BBC actor, Norman Shelley. Whoever they are (and the lady actresses being children!), it is a delightful blast from the post––– I mean past!

EYE LINES

For all you hobbit-watchers and dragon-fanciers...

Here's a sneak preview of the cover of my forthcoming Official Movie Guide for The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug...

There's still three months until publication, but there's absolutely nothing to stop you from ordering it right now!

RAY HARRYHAUSEN (1920-2013)

He fashioned the creatures – marvels, wonders, demons and monsters – of my childhood dreams and nightmares.

A twentieth century inheritor of the centuries-old craft of puppetry, he took the playthings of his fantastical imagination – no more than a few inches high – gave them life and breath, empowered them with emotions and turned them into the often huge and towering beings that became the delights and terrors of several generations of wide-eyed youngsters – many of whom grew up to be amongst the most amazing filmmakers of all time.

Before digital animation, Ray Harryhausen – having learnt his art from one of great masters of the craft, King Kong's Willis O'Brien – created unforgettable moments of fantasy cinema: dinosaurs, sea monsters, snake-haired women, multi-limbed goddesses, flying horses, minotaurs and armies of skeletal warriors. He whisked us back in time to witness the brutal struggles of prehistoric life on earth and carried us off to the fantasy realms travelled by Jason, Perseus and Sindbad.

A modest, courteous, gentleman whom I had the privileged to meet with and interview on several occasions, Ray was, without question, a master artist who conjured life into the inanimate toys of his ingenious imaginings and then let them lose to roar and rage their way into the annals of movie history.

You can view some of Ray's cavalcade of creatures in this blog posted in 2010 to mark his 90th birthday.

And here's one to entice you to click that link!

 

ALL WHITE ON THE NIGHT

It's difficult to believe, but 75 years ago this week, Walt Disney's first feature-length animated film, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs began enchanting and (in the case of the Wicked Queen and her alter ego the witchy old Hag) terrifying British kids when the film went on General Release in the United Kingdom.

I will be celebrating Miss White's anniversary (shared, naturally, with Doc, Happy, Grumpy, Sleepy, Sneezy, Bashful and Dopey) by presenting an illustrated talk at London's Cinema Museum this coming Tuesday, 12 March.

As well as extracts from the film, I will be showing sequences that never made it into the beloved classic, as well as several related short films including, from WWII, the Seven Dwarfs helping to sell war bonds and instructing people how to prevent the spread of malaria!

Click here for full details and booking information

And as a special, curtain-raiser for Tuesday's event, here are Snow White's Seven Little Men along with Pinocchio, Geppetto, Donald, Pluto, Mickey & Co doing their bit for the war effort...

MAY THE MOUSE BE WITH YOU

The prophetic talents displayed by this blog-writer sometimes amaze even me! Scarcely three months ago we ran a caption competition for a picture of George Lucas crossing light-sabres with Mickey Mouse, we discover the outcome of that battle of wills...

According The Hollywood Reporter we can expect the release of a new Star Wars film every two to three years. In a statement, George Lucas said:

“For the past 35 years, one of my greatest pleasures has been to see Star Wars passed from one generation to the next. It’s now time for me to pass Star Wars on to a new generation of filmmakers. I’ve always believed that Star Wars could live beyond me, and I thought it was important to set up the transition during my lifetime. I’m confident that with Lucasfilm under the leadership of Kathleen Kennedy, and having a new home within the Disney organization, Star Wars will certainly live on and flourish for many generations to come. Disney’s reach and experience give Lucasfilm the opportunity to blaze new trails in film, television, interactive media, theme parks, live entertainment and consumer products.”

Here's what Disney Chairman and CEO, Bob Iger, and George Lucas had to say before signing their intergalactic deal...

Yes, well, let's hope they manage to organise some better lighting before they start making Star Wars Episode 7...

In any event, Disney's already significant commercial strength and global reach has just become significantly even more powerful.  

Scarily powerful? Only time will tell...

Image: The New Death Star by Genzoman

HOLLYWOOD: MADE TO MEASURE

'Costume is a huge part of getting into character,' film and TV actress, Jane Levy once observed. 'Your body soaks in what you're wearing, and you turn into someone else.'

Hollywood Costume, the new exhibition at the Victoria and Albert Museum, opening this Saturday (20 October) and running until 27 January 2013, examines the processes by which over 130 movie costumes – from the silent era of Charlie Chaplin to the CGI age of Avatar – were designed, made, worn and, in many instances, became enduring icons of Hollywoodland.

The exhibition is the work of Senior Guest Curator Deborah Nadoolman Landis (whose costume designs include The Blues Brothers, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Trading Places and Michael Jackson's Thriller) and Guest Curator Professor Sir Christopher Frayling (former Rector of the Royal College of Art and Chairman of the Arts Council England) working with V&A Curator (and award-winning theatre designer) Keith Lodwick. 

The result of their combined labours is a gloriously spectacular celebration of the clothes of the stars across the best part of a century of cinema featuring treasurers that will excite every generation of film-goer: whether devotees of the sirens of the Hollywood's Golden Age, fans of action heroes from Hans Solo to James Bond, costume movie heroes from Ben Hur to Jack Sparrow or fantasy characters from Darth Vadar to Harry Potter to Cruella De Vil with her stunning black-and-white 'dog-tooth' outfits...

Of course, what separates costumes from any other second-hand clothes are our memories of seeing them living on the screen: Holly Golightly's Givenchy gown in Breakfast at Tiffany's when modelled by Audrey Hepburn or Scarlett O'Hara's green velvet dress from Gone With the Wind as worn by Vivien Leigh. Designed by Walter Plunkett to look as if they were made from a pair of curtains (indicating the heroine's determination to survive) they still managed to make Leigh look sensational...

To compensate for the absence of flesh and blood bodies, the superb design of this exhibition – the work of Casson Mann design practice – imbues the costumes with surrogate life through the highly creative use of sound and lighting and imaginative projections and animations. 

As Creative Director, Roger Mann, puts it: 'We have had to be that much more playful, that much more magical, that much more engaging with [the costumes] to help them come alive and to bring out the range of emotions felt when seeing a movie.' 

The creative wizardry supporting and surrounding these often legendary clothes is particularly well used in 'Act One' of the exhibition which deconstructs costume design: showing how Marit Allen's seemingly 'off-the-peg' cowboy outfits worn by Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal in Brokeback Mountain were, in fact, anything but; and how the component parts of Indiana Jones costume developed out of a sketch by Steven Speilberg  from well-worn hat (aged with oil and fullers earth and a lot scrunging and sitting on) down to his boots and, of course, whip.

Similarly, there is an analysis of the items of costume designed by Alexandra Byrne for Cate Blanchett to wear in Elizabeth: The Golden Age, flanked by other Elizabethan costumes worn by Glenda Jackson, Flora Robson, Bette Davis and Quentin Crisp.

One of the chief achievements of this section of the exhibition is in demonstrating that 'costumes' need to look like they are 'clothes' which the character wears, rather than something that an actor changes into to walk onto a movie set; and, similarly, that 'clothes', however seemingly prosaic, are also 'costumes'  

Of the latter category, there can scarcely be a better example than Charlie Chaplin's raggedy clothes worn by Charlie Chaplin in his 'Little Tramp' persona. 

Whereas Travis Banton's gem-encrusted gown designed in 1937 for Angel is a fantastical creation that, nevertheless, succeeded in looking as if it were the precisely the kind of ensemble Dietrich would wear any day of the week...

'Act Two' of the exhibition is a series of ingeniously staged (and thoughtfully subtitled) dialogues between actors, directors and designers: Tim Burton and Colleen Atwood talk about Sweeney Todd across Mrs Lovett's pie-making table onto which are projected images and clips and, every now and again, a gory spattering of blood!

Nearby, Tippi Hedren discusses the pale green suit she wore in Hitchcock's The Birds with ghosts of designer, Edith Head, and Hitch himself while a stray feather appears to fall onto post cards of the film's locations and a passing gull drops a bird lime souvenir onto a map of Bodega Bay! 

Throughout the exhibition there are some fascinating contrasts: one of Meryl Streep's outlandish outfits from Mama Mia! standing shoulder to shoulder with her Margaret Thatcher suit from The Iron Lady. Elsewhere, Joan Crawford's dowdy, sexless, blue gingham waitress dress from Mildred Pearce is within sight of her sensationally seductive ruby gown, seen (ironically in black and white) in The Bride Wore Red.

Adrian's costume for Joan Crawford in The Bride Wore Red ( 1937) flanked by 

Walter Plunkett's burgandy ballgown for Scarlett O'Hara in Gone With the Wind (1939)

and Travis Banton's costume design for Claudette Colbert in Cleopatra (1934)

Then there is Heddy Lemarr's peacock robe for Delilah in Cecil B DeMille's Samson and Delilah. When DeMille saw Edith Head's design for the costume he suggested using real peacock feathers. A few days later he arrived at the studio with a station-wagon laden with plumage: it transpired he owned a farm and raised peacocks and had spent the weekend picking up feathers...

'Act Three: Finale' is a cavalcade of costume classics: Dolly Levi's shimmering gown worn by Barbra Streisand in the 'Hello Dolly' number from the film of the same name; Sharon Stone's revealing leg-crossing dress in Basic Instinct; Keira Knightley's emerald silk evening frock from her performance in Atonement; Errol, Flynn's doublet from The Adventures of Don Juan; John Travolta's three-piece cream suit from Saturday Night Fever and Warren Beatty's Dick Tracy fedora and camelhair overcoat...

Powers that be: Harrison, Daniel, Arnie and Warren

Senior Guest Curator Deborah Nadoolman Landis with Carol Lombard

in her My Man Godfrey gown, Judy Garland in her Oz dress and 

mesdames Streisand and Knightley in, respectively, 

Hello Dolly and Atonement

 

A word of advice to fans of cinema superheroes: remember to look up every now and again or you might miss Superman, Batman, Catwoman and Spidey...

Providing a fabled flourish to the finale are a trio of exhibits redolent of the mystique and the magic of the movies: Marilyn's ivory cocktail dress from The Seven Year Itch and Judy's gingham pinafore dress from The Wizard of Oz together with a pair of the original Ruby Slippers that carried her down the Yellow Brick Road to the Emerald City and eventually back to Kansas.

Screenwriter Noel Langley was probably the person responsible for making L Frank Baum's 'silver shoes' into those now-legendary and utterly iconic Ruby Slippers and they, along with the rest of the Oz costumes, were designed by Hollywood designer-great, Adrian.

Despite their now-dull appearance, the 73-year-old shoes are still powerfully evocative as Deborah Nadoolman Landis observes: 'The Ruby Slippers transcend Hollywood costume  design and have the power to transport us to the limits of our imagination. These precious shoes exemplify the best of cinema storytelling because they evoke memory and emotion.'

The Ruby Slippers are on loan from the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History but are only here for a few weeks before heading back home (where else?) in time for (what else?) Thanksgiving. With or without Dorothy's footwear this is a superb and unmissable exhibition.

 
Accompanying the exhibition is fabulous 320 page book, Hollywood Costume – not so much a catalogue as an exploration of the subject through a series of fascinating essays, edited by Deborah Nadoolman Landis, and jam-packed with a cornucopia of striking imagery that will ensure that the volume will have a shelf-life for movie fans that far outlasts the life of the exhibition.

'The design of costumes for films is a distinctive form of deign which is often taken for granted or misunderstood. This V&A exhibition presents the ideal opportunity to set the record straight – and does so in the most spectacular way.'

- Sir Christopher Frayling

'This landmark exhibition provides a once in a life-time opportunity to explore the most beloved characters in Hollywood history and gain insight on the role of the costume designer and their vital contribution to cinema storytelling.'

  - Deborah Nadoolman Landis

The V&A is open daily 10:00-17:45 (and until 22:00 every Friday)
Tickets for Hollywood Costume are £14 (concessions available) 
Advance booking is advisable and can be done on-line here or by calling 02079077073

Check the V&A website for special events

Images: V&A, David Weeks and Brian Sibley