We may need a category just for “super beautiful but super depressing” movies, and The Portrait of a Lady (1996) would be right in there. I think I suppressed the memory Henry James novel it’s based on, and I almost wish I could do the same with the film except the costumes are SO GOOD I don’t want to lose those visuals. Unfortunately, that comes along with a sad-to-creepy tale of a seemingly independent woman making a terrible choice of husband and getting the life crushed out of her, plus watching said husband crush any potential life out of his illegitimate daughter. UGH.
So let’s just wallow in the glory of Janet Patterson‘s stunning costume designs for the 1870s (natural form) bustle gowns worn by Nichole Kidman (back when her forehead still moved, lol). There is an insane amount of detail in these creations that is just hinted at on screen, so it helps to find display photos and additional promo stills to see the costumes in all their glory.
Costumes play an important part in the story, in some ways symbolic and for plot points. The main character, Isabel Archer (played by Nicole Kidman) dresses in darker colors and more elaborate, restrictive clothing with more tightly coiled hairstyles as her life becomes constricted. As Rebecca M. Gordon explains in “Portraits Perversely Framed: Jane Campion and Henry James” (Film Quarterly 56, no. 2, 2002)
“Presenting Isabel as a portrait rather than as a complete subject, the film traces her social development and its effects on her outer person through costume and hair changes. Drawing from James’s images and her own cinematic repertoire, Campion uses lighting, mobile framing, and swift changes of point of view to race as closely as possible the internal drama of Isabel’s mind an the reactions other characters have to her.”
The costumes work with the filmic techniques to create this portrait of a lady, which differs from that in the novel, but is still strangely incomplete and even more open-ended. Just as clothing paints this portrait, costumes are used to advance the story — usually with negative impact. Isabel’s black-and-white stripe parasol becomes the instrument with which Osmond (played by John Malkovich) teases and practically hypnotizes her into their marriage. Later, in another pivotal scene, Osmond steps on her gown’s train to entrap her and accuse her of coming between Pansy, his daughter, and a wealthy suitor.
The story begins in 1876 in England and then moves to Italy for the next three years. In England, Isabel wears a few simple dark dresses and her hair is worn up but simply styled and a bit frizzy. She’s possibly in mourning, as she’s an orphan, visiting English relatives. In the article “‘I Am Isabel, You Know?’: The Antipodean Framing of Jane Campion’s Portrait of a Lady” (MC Journal, Vol 11, No. 5, 2008), Annabel Cooper notes:
[Director Jane] Campion has said the curly hair was Kidman’s idea, because she wore it like that as a girl and didn’t like it and it would signify Isabel’s lack of interest in her beauty; but she has also said that the inspiration for the film came while she was at the hairdresser, having ‘a colour job.’
The barely-contained red curls disrupt the constraint of Isabel’s Victorian clothing until the last scene before her marriage. They then abruptly disappear to be replaced by elaborate braids coiled and confined at the back of her head, like the style worn by Madame Merle (similarly entrapped in Osmond’s web), and do not return until Isabel flouts Osmond’s authority and travels to her dying cousin in England.
The curly hair stays with Isabel as she is bequeathed a fortune from her uncle and travels to Italy, while her clothing becomes more elaborate. She wears pale gowns that are at once appropriate to the warm climate and evocative of her youth and innocence. This will all disappear after she succumbs to Osmond.
Isabel’s arrival in Italy.
Sweet, ruffled.
Beautiful hats.
Isabel darts in & out of shadows wearing this white embroidered gown.
Details of the outfit in a promo photo.
The all-important parasol.
Osmond’s seduction of Isabel.
Isabel’s hair is still frizzy as she tells her past suitors of her engagement to Osmond.
Blue stripe gown.
Elaborate bodice details.
Omg, the stripe patterning!
In the last scene before they’re married, this stripe gown is barely shown.
Up close.
On display — bustle details unnoticed onscreen!
Three years later, we see Isabel again, married to Osmond & living in Rome. She wears this dark gown with her hair in a high, tightly braided coiffure, as she darts through the dark halls of her new home.
I lightened this screencap to show some of the details — the gold trim is militaristic, as if she’s in a uniform, playing the good little soldier to her overbearing husband who barks orders at her & his daughter.
Thank goodness for promo photos like this that show more of the costume.
The outfit went on sale — front view of the bodice.
Back view.
The full outfit for sale.
So often, we only see Isabel in full length at a distance, such as walking through hallways or rushing away.
In the rest of this scene, as Osmond berates her, the frame is tightly focused on Isabel’s face. Only the neckline of her gown is visible.
And here’s the entire gown on display.
The ball scene is chock full of gorgeous costumes, but it’s all in low light so you can’t see details.
Isabel’s gown mostly looks black with flecks of gold on film & the train is not noticeable.
This jewelry set and others in the movie came from antiques dealer Pat Novissimo, who said:
“When Janet [Patterson, costume designer] asked to borrow jewelry for The Portrait of a Lady, it was the first time my jewels were to be featured in a film, worn by a major actress and a full female cast. It was all very exciting for me. Janet took me to the area where they were creating all of the costumes for the film. I was able to see all of the fabrics and patterns and later how they matched jewelry to the dresses. It was wonderful to be able to gain such insight into the process of how the costumes enhance the personalities of the different characters in a movie.”
On display, the gold-green color of the gown is more apparent.
And all the layers of embroidered mesh with sequins that are just barely hinted at onscreen.
The lighting of a display brings out different colors in the gown.
Notice all of that embroidery in the train — totally unseen in the film!
EMBROIDERY ON THE UNDERSIDE OF THE TRAIN!!! THAT IS INSANE, WHO DOES THAT?!?!
Isabel comforts her step-daughter Pansy. Compare this much more elaborate pale gown with what she wore when she first arrived in Italy. Also, this scene lasts for exactly one minute.
On display, all the beading is visible.
Skirt beading & ruching details.
So much bodice trim! Isabel does wear this gown in another scene, for a dinner, so at least a glimpse of the bodice occurs again.
Back train draperies not shown in the film because Isabel is either shown from the waist up or sitting.
This blue gown harkens back to the blue gown Isabel wears when she announces her engagement. Here, she says good-bye to the first man who proposed to her.
The gown on display.
In the scene where Osmond is most physically cruel, Isabel wears a deep purple gown that resonates with the blue of her eyes. The whole room is plunged in blue shadows (I lightened this screencap to show details).
Osmond stops her by stepping on her gown’s train.
The gown on display.
Rich embroidery that’s barely seen on film, just adds texture.
The train that gets stepped on. *sob*
She’s miserable, but beautifully dressed (this movie in a nutshell).
There’s a ruched front panel on her gown that coordinates the sleeve ruchings.
Determined to return to England, Isabel’s hair is back to curls underneath another fine hat.
Have you suffered through The Portrait of a Lady for the costumes?
Love the costumes. But I fell that most of Henry James’ novels are propaganda for the patriarchy and/or depressing. I missed this one and might watch it for the gorgeous costumes.
Including “Washington Square”?
No, but that is the exception.
I have not suffered through Portrait of a Lady for the costumes, but now I think I want to!
Maybe turn the sound off?
I haven’t seen this since I was … fifteen? Sixteen? I have only two memories about it — the costumes were beautiful, and isn’t there this weird modern scene just randomly shoved into the film? Or was I hallucinating?
Yes – the film starts with a bunch of modern girls ruminating on their first kiss in a woodsy area! It screams ‘Lilith Fair’ to me. I’m sure it was meant to be relatable, & y’all know how we feel about that LOL.
Is it just me, or does Isabel look like a vampire in the dark post-marriage outfits?
I thought the costumes were lovely but I hated the film with a passion. The only Jane Campion film I’ve liked has been Bright Star with Ben Whishaw as Keats.
“Bright Star” was lovely. This looks thoroughly morose, but lordy, lordy, those dresses–that beading and embroidery! Why didn’t Nicole contrive to push him off a bridge, so she and Pansy could live in peace with their wardrobes? (And why didn’t she stop tinkering with her physical self? She looks air-brushed these days; it’s creepy.)
Agreed, OMG AMAZING COSTUMES and such a depressing film. I imprinted on the scene of Isabel and Madame Merle walking in the rain, and someday NEED TO RECREATE THAT MOMENT in a bustle gown and in an English garden.
YES!!! Let’s do eet!
I’ve never seen the movie, but those dresses are MAGNIFICENT!!!!
Henry James, ugh. I have had multiple arguments with a male friend re Henry James — my friend thought James was so insightful about women (why yes, he never had a female partner). My opinion is that James knew nothing about women — they are all suffering dolls with which James plays. I stay away from all books, films, etc. involving James (except snarky articles like this one).
Could Suffragette (2015) be considered for the Beautiful but Depressing Column?
I have a little terminology question thays been confusing me for a little while. Earlier in this post and also in the “age of innocence” review you refer to Natural Form bustle dresses and all the research I’ve done has lead me to understand that the focal point of the natural form era was that fashion eschewed the bustle for a few years. I’m not an expert so maybe someone can help clear this up?
It’s a shorthand – anything that brings focus to the rear of a gown with draperies, trims, etc. tends to get called “bustle” whether or not there’s a foundation garment underneath.
Fashion terms are not precise! This is one thing that 20th/21st c. folks get more hung-up on than ppl in the past did. It’s not like science where there are a genus & species & such for every single item ;)
Like how the terms corset and stays were essentially interchangeable, but today they’re used separately to distinguish what silhouette the garment in question produces?
Heck yeah!