When Art Crosses Mediums: Eiko Ishioka’s Game Changing Costumes
Film costumes rarely get the (artistic) recognition they deserve, since they are being seen as props to enhance a movie’s visual aspect. But once in a while, there is a motion picture the crashes through the established forcing a stagnant appreciation of this medium. Francis Ford Coppola’s “Dracula” (1992) was exactly that. Enjoying immense critical acclaim, commercial success and a few Oscars, it generated notorious buzz about the extraordinary clothes worn by the cast. These attires were after all, the creations of Eiko Ishioka, a Japanese art director and graphic and costume designer whose Shiseido’s and Parco’s advertising campaigns hinted at an impeccable talent in visual storytelling.
Eiko had minimum experience in Hollywood having worked as a costume/production designer in Paul Schrader’s “Mishima” (1985) and in “Closet Land” (1991) but when she met Coppola, she singlehandedly altered the landscape of what is possible within a screen frame. She ignored practical functionality and focused instead on creating artistic pieces which endure not only the test of time but transcend typical and banal mainstream preferences. Coppola said how the costumes in his flick should be doing all the heavy lifting evoking an opera of gothic proportions. Eiko’s ideas might have been a product of an “out of the box” thinking process but art critics disagreed lauding Ishioka’s output as something beyond remarkable. Ishioka's work has been included in permanent museum collections around the world, including the prestigious Museum of Modern Art in New York, with Ishioka the only film costume designer to receive that distinct honor.
The question which lingers on the mind’s of those who do not think of motion pictures as a mere means to tell a story is what made Ishioka’s costumes so captivating? Was it their obvious lack of mobility or their ambitious scope? Or the fact they combined elements from several mediums of art, cultures and styles? These were not props for actors to wear or glorified fashion statements but aesthetic choices which visually told a story carrying breathtaking emotional weight. Never before had costumes held such immense power; we are more interested in what the actors are wearing rather than how they emote or deliver their lines. Blame Ishioka’s fascinating imagination for that.
The most famous vampire of them all
Goldman’s robe was inspired by Austrian symbolic painter Gustav Klimt’s “The Kiss” (1908), the Austrian symbolic painter.
A glance at “Dracula” quickly highlights both her quirky couture inside their innovative conception and anachronistic tendencies. Having not seen a Dracula movie before, Eiko was clueless in regards the count’s gothic style. But that mattered not. She noted Coppola saying to her how the costumes would be a key determining factor for the film’s quality and thus, Ishioka achieved the groundbreaking fusion of elements across a variety of sources (e.g., painters Alfonso Mucha and Gustav Klimt, Victorian era, traditional Japanese clothes). For Dracula himself, Ishioka designed each costume to cause a fresh sensation every time he appears on-screen; his anticipated entrance comes not as a banal, black caped silhouette but in the form of a decayed and elderly aristocrat boasting a Kabuki/Geisha inspired hairstyle with a double braided top knot wearing a (very long) scarlet Turkish like robe filled with gorgeous embroidery. It is such a striking image that since its release, it has become the de factor visual reference in pop culture for Dracula.
Oldman himself underwent multiple and radically different costume changes (at least 12 distinct ones). Mesmerizing pieces included Dracula’s majestic battle armor, a cross between a man and a beast as Ishioka described in the book “Eiko and Coppola on Bram Stoker’s Dracula”, featured stylized flayed muscle texture under traditional samurai layered construction, a feat gorgeous and twisted simultaneously; a golden, Klimt-inspired robe; and a Victorian Dandyism suit with a top hat and a pair of tinted bright blue sunglasses.
Such examples demonstrate how Ishioka’s work is more than pure eye candy or an attempt to appeal to fashion hungry (and pretentious) crowds. They describe the status, emotions and history of the corresponding characters masterfully without relied on dialogical exposition. Dracula’s Victorian suit marks him as a predator in gentleman’s clothing; slick but slightly off in its edgy design. Lucy’s and Mina’s dresses are a direct metaphor for their eroticism (e.g., intertwining snakes), sensuality, inner peace (e.g., leaf patterns) and innocence while Lucy’s death gown resembled a gothic bride of Baroque extravagance from hell, Ishioka taking visual cues from the Australian frilled lizard. And for all the above, Ishioka landed a justifiable Oscar at the 1993 Academic Awards ceremony eclipsing the current competition with her hauntingly beautiful achievements.
Enter the mind of a killer
King Stargher makes an unsettling appearance with Kabuki design influences.
Despite her win though, Eiko chose cinematic isolation coming back 8 years later to create stupendous costumes for Tarsem’s directional debut “The Cell” (2000), a relationship that would continue to all of his films (“The Fall” (2006), “Immortals” (2011), “Mirror Mirror” (2012)) until her death in 2012. Featuring easily her best work to date, Tarsem’s movie might be described as the definition of style over substance, yet its intriguing storyline allows for Ishioka’s imagination to present the human subconscious psyche in visual arresting pieces. Taking place inside a serial killer’s mind, Ishioka was able to unearth costumes pulled either from someone’s worst nightmares or elusive dreams. “The Cell” is a optical feast, arguably more so than Coppola’s “Dracula” mainly because the boundaries of its world are surrealistic and fantastical and don’t lean towards any established rules of presentation.
Continuing her trend of merging various traits from many cultures (especially Kabuki theater’s exaggerated silhouettes), the artistic styles included here are more varied and contrasting than before. There is surrealism (e.g., Salvador Dali, Max Ernst), Renaissance (e.g., Hieronymus Bosch), Baroque, and Avant Garde fashion (e.g., Thierry Mugler’s structured designs) mixed with elements of Catholicism and masochism. Ishioka immerses herself into both the grotesque and the sensual, showcasing that there can be beauty at the merge of these two. And just like in “Dracula”, each of Ishioka’s costume reveals for Vincent D’Onofrio’s Carl Rudolf Stargher is breathtaking holding the audience spellbound.
Catherine’s and Stargher’s first confrontation see him descending from his throne, his back skin threaded through metal rings and pulling apart curtains of purple silk all around the room - such scenes deserve recognition not only for the ingenuity but all also for their apparel beauty within darkness. Whether it is Stargher emerging from a pool with gorgeous BDSM leather gear or Catherine’s white featherily dress in the Namibian desert, Ishioka ventures in ways that only a handful costume designers dare to do so (e.g., Bob Ringwood and Jean Paul Gaultier come to mind with their work in “Alien: Resurrection” (1997) and “The Fifth Element” (1997) respectively) avoiding kitsch looks or cheap values. It’s like a haiku turned inside out to become an extravagant epic like Homer’s “Iliad”. Stargher’s “royal” attire during the torture of FBI agent Peter Novak is a stunning display of gold designs resembling a gargantuan, screeching human beetle. The late Roger Ebert described Tarsem’s effort as “dazzling, the way he blends so many notes, styles and genres into a film so original” and much of this praise comes directly of Ishioka’s outlandish, stimulating and sensational costumes that reflect the movie’s mood, style and thematic content.
Free-for-all style
Remarkable beauty in Tarsem’s “The Fall”. Ishioka excels at creating unbelievable head pieces.
It won’t be another six years till Ishioka’s return to moviemaking with Tarsem’s “The Fall”, a story-within-a-story flick he self-financed. Hailed as a masterpiece by (again) Roger Ebert and bearing support from the likes of David Fincher and Spike Jonze, it was only appropriate for Ishioka to bring forward the auteur’s vision although this time the setting isn’t a deranged mind or ghoul populated Transylvania.
The fictional tale of “The Fall” is used as a sandbox to concoct elaborate designs which this time around veer towards lyrical expressionism. Influences aplenty (e.g., Spanish matador styles, pulp heroes, Rajasthani culture), Ishioka is having a great time designing across a large scope costumes for actors to wear. The 20th century setting offers the opportunity to ground certain elements (e.g., Odious, Alexandria) in that period which Ishioka uses to occasionally flirt with minimalism. Of course this does not prevent the renowned designer from crafting incredible outputs such as Sister Evelyn’s dazzling clothes display or giving the five heroes distinct visual identities based on their origins alone. Surrealism might be scaled back here but nonetheless, the costumes are used to heighten the visual look of the film in every shot.
Shortly after, Ishioka broke away from the imaginary with a short stint in Spain. “Teresa: The Body of Christ” (2007) remains an unknown film outside of Matador country despite starring Paz Vega with limited evidence of her work on the internet. Nevertheless, few stills do continue to highlight her ability to translate baroque (and Renaissance) paintings into real life counterparts through stunning detail.
The Gods in “Immortals” sporting chiseled armor plates that resemble gold Greek statues.
As such, In Tarsem’s next output (five years later again), the uber-violent “Immortals”, Ishioka tackles Greek mythology in a hypersaturated way emphasizing golds, blacks and dark blues with very few touches of vibrant colors for Theseus’ fight against king Hyperion and his minions. Perhaps due to a Hollywood budget, Ishioka returns to pure extravagance, an ounce away from kitsch; the Greek gods have chiseled breast plates and (sometimes very) large golden helmets (e.g., Ares, Poseidon, Athena) that feel part of Avant Garde fashion from the likes of Alexander McQueen and Thierry Mugler which are contrasted against slick production design. Still, there is an elegant simplicity in their OTT representation.
On the other hand, Mickey Rourke’s Hyperion and his cronies are dressed almost entirely in black featuring a mish mash of fabric ideas to showcase Hyperion’s ability to create an army of several tribes, cities and groups with Mesopotamian (or even) Persian influence. Certain elements do standout a lot - the crab like helmet of Hyperion is an odd choice for sure but within the context of the script it works. The newly freed titans bear interesting steampunk elements in their prison looking like a literal negative version of the gods - dark blues/blacks while the prophet Phaedra with her crimson-red gown and its gold accents gives it a more sensual emotion to a priestess invoking the vibrant colors of the now mythical kingdom of Knossos (in ancient Crete). Ishioka might not be making bold statements in “Immortals” in the way she did in “The Cell” but her diligence gives the film an edge against other contemporary sword-and-sandal epics (e.g., “Clash of the Titans” (2010), “Wrath of the Titans” (2012)) as it becomes more of a stylized grand guignol ancient opera than a mediocre adventure that adapts a famous Greek myth.
Robert’s Evil Queen in “Mirror Mirror” wears Ishioka’s incredible designs.
Exchanging one myth for another, the last movie of Ishioka’s was “Mirror Mirror”, a sweet take of the Snow White fairy tale starring Lily Collins as the famous princess and Julia Roberts in the role of the Evil Queen. Receiving a posthumous Oscar nod, perhaps Ishioka’s costumes were the most memorable element of the (underwhelming and child friendly) adaptation bringing full circle the designer’s influences: Baroque royalty, Victorian clothing, renaissance nobility with a dash of ballet and folk peasant style are all used to dress meticulously cast and extras giving much needed color in an anemic production. Julia Roberts gets the lion’s share of the impeccable designs wearing ludicrous, impractical and yet highly gorgeous gowns and dresses, totally appropriate for the character’s ego whereas servants and guards do sport memorable attire made of head gears, masks and a combination of European royalty sensibilities with a blend of more fantastical elements. After though a career that spanned plenty of mediums and a few films, who can blame Ishioka wanting to tackle something less challenging but more exuberant?
When was the last time costumes entranced you?
This analysis of Ishioka’s remarkable cinematic outputs only demonstrates how lackluster today’s standards are in this department. Most flicks (especially Hollywood ones) are deprived of innovation and passion, driven my mediocre ambitions and frankly, lackluster conviction. Eiko Ishioka, a giant in the department of cinematic costume design compelled not only the movie world but also that one of art and fashion to take notes of her innovative ingenuity to push the boundaries of costume functionality through pure artistic expression. Ishioka was not someone hired to simply do a job. She was more than that; she was the epitome of a fearless artist willing to venture in unknown lands to alter the existing landscape and put forward a bold statement. She was a master visual storyteller to the likes we have not seen before or after her death.
