Malkovich, the Dior suit and those who don’t understand the costume

For scholars and historians of social customs, it is encouraging to observe that audiences grasp character analysis and the narrative of clothing—perhaps only intuitively, yet more effectively than many film critics demonstrate. For the past two days, the crowd in dusty Birkenstocks, smoking cigarettes in defiance of the bans whilst queuing to enter the cinema at the Lido (the world has moved on and generally no longer considers smoking a sign of coolness, but they’re fixated on that hand-rolled cigarette, the Nouvelle Vague model with an ultra-delayed burn) have done nothing but complain about the attention social media is giving to the suit (Dior) worn by John Malkovich on the red carpet for “Wild Horse Nine”, rather than the film he is starring in in the competition, thereby demonstrating they know absolutely nothing about costume – which certainly does not play a marginal role in cinema – and probably also about film theory (and here we cannot help but rejoice, on behalf of half the editorial team at Il Foglio who studied with him at the Catholic University of Milan – and in one case even graduated from there – alongside Alberto Barbera, who appointed Francesco Casetti to the jury; Casetti is now a full professor of film history and criticism at Yale, and for decades the ‘second-in-command’ of American cinema has been favoured over those who actually know their stuff).

For those few who have not yet expressed an opinion on the matter and have not seen the photos, but might be interested in understanding what lies behind that suit, here is a summary and a brief history. At the screening of Martin MacDonagh’s sensational film – currently the best of those seen at Venice – Malkovich wore a dark suit with a shirt in that shade once known as ‘Isabella’ and now ‘off-white’ – this clarification is important given the era to which it refers – with a double ruff, which draws simultaneously on the great Flemish-Spanish tradition of the first two decades of the seventeenth century, with its large pleated but drooping ruff, known precisely as ‘à rabat’ and of which there is a fair amount of evidence in Caravaggio’s many early self-portraits, and on contemporary English fashion, which even then had a significant say in matters of masculine elegance.

The first direct reference to Malkovich’s collar can be found – complete with fastening ribbons and virtually identical in design – in the portrait of an actor (would you believe it?) presumably depicting Nathan Field, dated 1615 and held at the Dulwich Picture Gallery (Southwark, the neighbourhood where Marlowe practised and which Shakespeare also frequented).

That Jonathan Anderson, creative director at Dior, enjoys blending two different traditions is hardly unusual; indeed, it is a testament to his originality that Malkovich – who, whilst specialising in drama, studied the history of costume and, remember, played the Vicomte de Valmont? – wears historical costumes with a naturalness unknown amongst film people, who already struggle with a long dress from the day before yesterday – must have struck him as very interesting. As someone wrote on Instagram, not everyone could wear such an eccentric shirt today, and that’s true. But if, in fashion as in costume, relationships can only be dangerous when there is mutual awareness, it must be pointed out that, even before becoming an actor, Malkovich worked in the costume department of the legendary Steppenwolf Theatre Company in Chicago, and that for years – as well as modelling for connoisseur brands such as Comme des Garçons (1989) and later Prada (1995 campaign) – he was a collector of rare and antique fabrics, many of which were used over the past decade for his own brand. He christened the line ‘Technobohemian’ – essentially the name one might give to the outfit from the other day: for a couple of years, he designed and produced it in Italy, and when he presented it at Pitti, we all rushed to see it; in Prato, they still remember him for his expertise and exquisite manners.