New Series! Three Fittings celebrates costume design in the movies. The number is necessary self-restraint for we love the art of costuming too much.
By Nathaniel R
Dear reader, I didn't think I'd ever need to see Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them (2016). I thought, solid reasoning given the golden trajectory of most franchises, that Oscar would want to move on after a year of regular craft nominations for the series. I thought, surely they'd never hand one of them an actual Oscar if they hadn't done so by now. But in the interest of completism, after Colleen Atwood's generous fourth statue for costuming this particular movie and its bluray release, I caught up.
I was both impressed and utterly perplexed by what I found.
While Atwood does unusually understated work (for her), there are far fewer costumes than you might expect (approximately one per man, two per woman). Sussing out why they voted for this confident minimalism within a fantasy over more traditional costume perfection in Jackie, the primary color bliss of then-frontrunner La La Land, the erotic glamour of Allied, and the flouncy Most-ness of Florence, proves nearly impossible.
Nevertheless, here are three key looks to discuss:
Look One
Fantastic Beasts doesn't give the ever gorgeous Carmen Ejogo much to do as the American President of the Magical Congress of the USA, but at least it has the good sense to hang its showiest costume on her. In keeping with the movie's color wheel restraint, she's all subdued dark blues with faded gold art deco details. The American Eagle fused with Phoenix is a great bit within the production design and echoed across Seraphina's chest; the height of the headress combined with the phoengle's? eaglix's? long tail design makes Ejogo even more regal as if she's a giantess though the actress is just 5'6"
This costume's sole bid to "LOOK AT ME!" grandeaur is that headdress. It appears to be made of gold-crusted pinecones and inedible silver-dipped blueberries but even that is subdued if you compare it to many similarly ornate head topping accessories in cinema.
It's also worth noting that this is, if not a mandatory head-of-state uniform, Seraphina's go-to look. It serves as her official iconography on the banners in the Magical Congress (pictured above). So we see this costume in giant-sized two-dimensions before the life-sized version.
Look Two
Though Eddie Redmayne is often considered one of the most stylish male movie stars, Newt Scalamander dresses rather more humbly. In fact, he wears the same blue overcoat, two piece earth tone suit, old dress shirt, and rumpled bow tie for the entire movie! That's perfect for this character who lives mostly outside of the wizarding world and the human world and has the social skills and attention to appearance to match that introverted choice.
If he's a little unglamorous (those oversized shoes are nearly clownish when he's walking!) he's still special looking. That's both because he's Eddie Redmayne and because the one costume for all situations marks him as a kind of doofus superhero if you stop to think about it. Atwood builds the super-suit's appeal with a combination of pleasing colors, and textures. The blue overcoat looks oddly comforting as befits a nice-guy hero / animal lover. Atwood also benefits from Redmayne's fit but super slender frame; not everyone can wear that many layers and still look thin!
Atwood's attention to detail shines through in the wear and tear, too. The costume doesn't look brand new in the first scene (a typical problem in a wide range of movies) and the garment takes a beating. Look at how bedraggled and dusty it is by the end of the movie above.
Newt's one sartorially self-aware moment is an amusing bit outside the prohibition era magical speak-easy where the ladies conjure glamorous gowns before knocking. Newt doesn't cast himself a new or better suit but does realize he should fix that forgotten bowtie.
His only costume change is the simple addition of a scarf for his journey back to England.
Look Three
For our third look, Atwood's smartest choice though why that is is not readily apparent. I'm talking about the fraternal twin outfits of Graves (Colin Farrell) and Credence (Ezra Miller). I didn't notice until I saw them together that Atwood has drawn wonderful but not mirrored comparisons between characters who are spiritually connected. Perhaps even psycho-sexually connected but the movie is ambiguous on this front, leaving it right there for you to interpret but not pushing its luck with the suggestion.
Both men are costumed in black and white, but Graves' suit is made from obviously fine fabric with exquisite textural details (in closeups you can see expensive ribbing on the white portions of both the collar and sleeves) and even a minor hint of color trim. Credence, a poor orphan who longs for Graves's affection and to become a wizard himself, also has white details for his black suit but in his case it's just a thin trim around the edges of the lapels, like the costume is still being sketched. Like the man-boy who wears it, it's unfinished.
It also doesn't fit him as well and the fabric is grungier.
Grave is Credence's idol and the white trim on the older man's somehow sinister flared black sleeves feel like a small mercy to his fan, especially when the two men touch and the paralells in design are most visible. "We're not the same," Graves seems to be saying with his glamorous clothing, "but feel free to aspire."
BUT WHAT'S WITH THAT OSCAR WIN?
In the end the only conclusion I can draw as to why it won the statue was that Academy voters largely identified with the film's sole "No-Maj' (Dan Fogler as Kowalski) who goes wide-eyed at the magic but is never more awed than when a simple dressing spell is performed right in front of him.
I remain bothered and bewildered by this win but the Academy was obviously bewitched.
Previously in this series...
La La Land (2016), Allied (2016), The Pirate (1948)