It's Delightful, It's Delicious, It's Delectable, It's Delirious

It's Dovima!

He's Just Our Bill

Who can blame them?

Funny Face, Revisited

Growing up, we were transfixed by the flickering, glamorous images presented on the late, late show; we would set our alarm clock for 2:00 am, to catch even a heavily-edited presentation of anything from Marie Antoinette (1938) to Queen of Outer Space (1958). As technology slowly grew, we would program the VCR to tape practically every pre-1970 film that showed up on television. And then, in turn, we began collecting DVDs, downloading movies on the Internet (legally!), or even finding rarities on YouTube. But we only knew most of these vintage films, classic or obscure, as relatively small images on a TV screen, a computer monitor, or now, an iPod or iPhone. One of the reasons we love being in Manhattan, is the opportunity we get to see quite a few classic films on the big screen, often in lovingly-restored prints at Lincoln Center, MoMA, or Film Forum. And until you've seen these films as they were originally intended to be seen, you're really only getting a fraction of the enjoyment.


On November 3, the Film Society of Lincoln Center kicked off a week-long Stanley Donen festival with his classic 1957 musical, Funny Face, starring Audrey Hepburn, Fred Astaire, and Kay Thompson. The pleasures of this screening were many: for starters, the print was an eye-popping, digitally restored archival print direct from Paramount. Thompson's legendary "Think Pink!" production number has never looked better, or pinker. Second, Mr. Donen was in the audience -- we sat right behind him, Mike Nichols, and Elaine May. Third, viewing this movie, so beloved from our childhood, on the literally big, wide screen was eye-opening and thought-provoking in unexpected ways.


Our most striking observation was that the story is practically nonexistent, even for a frothy musical; the writing just isn't particularly good or compelling. Audrey Hepburn's Jo Stockton character is so sketchily drawn, it's a testament to Hepburn's personal magnetism and sheer loveliness that she somehow maintains the audience's affection: as the dowdy bookstore clerk, Jo is borderline irritating, rattling on about the Jean Paul Sartre-esque philosophy she follows, denouncing the fashion world as shallow and without meaning. Then, Jo slips into her first Givenchy gown, and is immediately converted to commercialism. Then she denounces it again, only to finally dance off into the sunset with Astaire -- and a Givenchy gown. Say wha -- ? Mr. Donen, when interviewed by Mike Nichols after the screening, commented himself that he felt "uncomfortable" with any scene not involving a musical number, as he didn't feel they were written well, either. Our personal fond memories of the film were basically bullet points: "Think Pink"! The Richard Avedon-inspired montages! The Givenchy fashions! The Gershwin songs! Dovima! We'd forgotten the flaws -- or maybe just never noticed them as much when watching it on television.


On a more positive note, the film was a wonderful showcase for Kay Thompson, and we left wondering why the hell she didn't become the biggest star in the universe after Funny Face. Of course, we always adored her "Think Pink!" number; but beyond that, our memories of her, and the film as a whole, were blurred. Thompson really is a major part of the film, and whenever she's on screen, she blows everyone, Astaire and Hepburn included, completely away. She's the best thing about the group number, "Bonjour, Paris!"; completely overshadows Audrey on "How to Be Lovely"; and is positively incendiary with Astaire on "Clap Yo' Hands" -- which is really more of a showcase for her, and Astaire wisely and gentlemanly lets her steal the stage.


Any disappointments we had in revisiting Funny Face on the big screen were outweighed, though, by the sheer delight in seeing it so gorgeously presented; by the excitement of almost "discovering" Kay Thompson for the first time; by those gorgeous Givenchy gowns; and by the final, still-heartrending scene of Fred and Audrey being reunited at the world's loveliest church to the strains of "S'wonderful." And, of course, being able to sit behind Stanley Donen. It really doesn't get any better than that.

Out of Fashion

The Model as Muse exhibit at the Met.

A dud.

For one thing, the concept was perplexing (models influencing fashion? the cart before the horse?); and the execution did nothing to convince one of its validity.


It started off promisingly enough, with a mannequin wearing the black-and-white Dior gown worn by Dovima in Avedon's famous "elephants" shot; the spectacular draped Mme. Gres gown worn by Sunny Hartnett in another iconic Avedon portrait; and some really beautiful Balenciaga creations. But, aside from the famous Dovima and Hartnett poses, there was no clear correlation between the clothing and the supposed muses, aside from a few vintage Vogue and Bazaar magazines behind glass (which, bafflingly, usually had nothing to do with the clothing on display alongside it... DV, no stickler for authenticity she, would have done wonders with this concept!).


However, the couture garments from the 1940's and 1950's are so stunningly constructed, they were worth looking at, no matter the context. Unfortunately, they comprised the smallest part of the exhibition, the larger part of which was made up of 1960's-2000's fashions, which simply failed to register the same impact. The Generation Gap: a wall of "supermodel" covers from the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issues, versus the images of Dovima, Jean Patchett, Dorian Leigh, Lisa Fonssagrives, et al., on the covers of Vogue and Bazaar.

There was also a "supermodel" portrait of Patrick Demarchelier which clearly was an "homage" to the classic Cecil Beaton shot of the House of Dior's models posed in the atelier, 1957. And that's one of the problems with this show -- everything past the 1960's (or even the 1970's, if you want to be generous) references the past, or has a post-modern irony, or is in "tribute" to something else. No originality. The fact that these more recent decades make up the bulk of the exhibit left us wanting to hop a plane to London, for the Victoria and Albert Museum's exhibition honoring the true masters of couture. 

And there was certainly no originality or style emanating from the crowd of poorly-dressed onlookers posing alongside Dovima's Dior gown and cut-out elephants, chewing gum and fanny packs firmly in place as they took their MySpace and Facebook cel phone photos. For them, this was surely the height of fashion. As for us -- well, we were un-a-muse-d.

THANKS

Strut, Pout, Put it Out...

THANKS

The Bird with the (Baccarat) Crystal Plumage, Mr. Peacock, has graciously featured this humble blog and blogger on his stylish, entertaining, and informative site. From Stirred, Straight Up to Supermodel? We'd better work. And not quit our day job.

Thank you, Mr. Peacock!

And Looking Grim, 'Cause They've Been Sitting...

Because it's our birthday week, and we can do whatever the hell we want, we'll be choosing hats today.

57 Varieties...

...all of them FABULOUS.