Double Vision: Passion, Fashion, and The September Issue

“September is the January in fashion.” Candy Pratts Price, Executive Fashion Director, Vogue Magazine.

R. J. Cutler’s 2009 documentary, The September Issue, a look at the arduous process of compiling Vogue magazine’s biggest edition of the year, was initially promoted as a profile of its Editor In Chief, Anna Wintour (left), but ended up shedding more light on Creative Director, Grace Coddington, resulting in her becoming the film’s most fascinating star.

Coddington’s free-spirited, yet focused passion versus Wintour’s structured, and equally focused, determination made for a compelling dichotomy. Even their hairstyles and overall fashion sense speak volumes: Wintour dons her signature bob, classic and conservative, a strand rarely out of place, while Coddington (below) rocks thick, flowing, rock-star-style red hair. Ironically, Wintour, often stern, tends to exude personality through attire that embraces prints and color, while Coddington, like the cool bohemian aunt in your family, is frequently draped in black, almost choosing to pull focus from what’s on her person to what’s on her pages.

Coddington fights to get her work into the magazine, but it repeatedly gets put to the side, as Wintour edits, then ultimately decides what fashion spreads will make it into the issue. As Coddington senses her spreads are on the chopping block, she can’t hide the defeat on her face, as she sits at her desk. She updates the documentary crew about her spreads’ seemingly limited lifespan: “They took two more out and there’s question marks on two more, so it’s been whittled down… and I’m furious,” she calmly discloses. After a somber pause, she reveals with a brief nervous chuckle: “And it’s very hard to go on to the next thing.”

Later, a trip to Paris reignites the inner fire that looked to be extinguished. In a film full of flash and fashion, and pretty pictures, it’s this section that shows the inner beauty, particularly as Coddington overlooks the gardens at Versailles, an inspiring perspective emerges: “You have to go charging ahead, you can’t stay behind.”

And isn’t that what fashion, and life, is all about. The September Issue is a glimpse into the glamour, but more so it’s in-depth insight into the relentless passion it takes to create, and the frustration that can happen along the (run)way.

The September Issue cinematographer: Robert Richman.

Five for Pride

With Pride Month in June, there’s no better time to revisit, or maybe discover, some of the best arts and entertainment under the rainbow. From dance-club bangers and groundbreaking series to heartwarming rom-coms and poignant documentaries, and more, there’s no shortage of material that speaks, and sings, to the LGBTQ+ experience. Here are five for Pride:

Ultra Anthem

It’s safe to say that since 1997, Ultra Naté’s now-classic house track, “Free” has been a Pride-parade staple. The heartfelt message is right there in the chorus (“Cause you’re free/to do what you want to do/You’ve got to live your life/Do what you want to do”). And to drive home that empowering message, the tail end of the bridge (“Don’t be scared, your dream’s right there/You want it [you want it], reach for it!”) provides that soulful burst of encouragement to anyone about to embark on a new chapter. There are a number of variations of “Free,” but the “Mood II Swing Radio Mix” is essential for any Pride playlist.

(Chosen) Family Ties

And speaking of embarking on new chapters, in more ways than one, the 1993 limited TV series, “Armistead Maupin’s Tales of City,” set in San Francisco in 1976, follows sheltered Ohio-native Mary Ann Singleton (Laura Linney’s breakout role) as she decides to go from visiting vacationer to full-time resident. She moves into a utopian-inspired apartment complex on 28 Barbary Lane, run by an eccentric landlady, Anna “Dear, I have no objection to anything” Madrigal (Olympia Dukakis).

Mary Ann befriends her fellow tenants, whose lives are also explored, including Michael “Mouse” Tolliver, a gay hopeless romantic. She also begins a new job, dabbles in dating a couple of questionable men (Mary Ann’s namesake says it all: single-ton), and broadens her horizons in the city by the bay. Mary Ann undergoes a kind of “coming-out process” of her own, moving from straight-laced Ohioan to straight ally San Franciscan.

As this six-episode series progresses, the characters’ lives become intertwined, with the series taking on a mysterious, even at times a mystical, tone, with hints of Hitchcock’s Vertigo referenced throughout. Most importantly, the series serves as a love letter to the free-spirited (gay) oasis known as 1970’s San Francisco. Maupin penned several Tales of the City novels, with three additional limited TV series airing over the decades. The original, in particular, remains a clever, comforting celebration of “chosen family” at its finest.

Trick is Full of Treats

The 1999 rom-com, Trick is a smart story that turns what was supposed to be a casual hookup between a shy composer, Gabriel (Christian Campbell, left) and a go-go boy, Mark (J.P. Pitoc, right) into something heartwarming and hilarious. (The scene featuring a monologue by Miss Coco Peru [Clinton Leupp] is one of the many memorable moments.) The film and its soundtrack are perfect companions for Pride: Gabriel pours his heart into writing the catchy “Enter You,” as performed by his friend, Katherine (the comedic revelation that is Tori Spelling); ‘70s soft-pop classics (Gary Wright’s “Dream Weaver”; Helen Reddy’s “I Am Woman”) get reimagined as ‘90s dance mixes

(Erin Hamilton—Carol Burnett’s daughter—sings the former; Jessica Williams the latter); the instrumental “Trick of Fate/Enter You” plays over a pivotal moment between Gabriel and Mark, sure to induce a googly-eyed sigh. Trick is a testament to kismet, and all the promise and possibility that can unfold when you take your time in life and love.

Pop-Art Portrait

Soup cans in the ‘60s; Studio 54 in the ‘70s, likely two of the many things that come to mind when people think of the legendary artist, Andy Warhol. But in the Netflix documentary series, “The Andy Warhol Diaries,” based on Warhol’s 1989 non-fiction work of the same name, as edited by Pat Hackett, one learns more about the artist’s life behind the canvas and the camera shutter, particularly his personal relationships with interior designer, Jed Johnson, and Hollywood studio executive, Jon Gould, as well as Warhol’s complicated collaboration with fellow influential artist, Jean-Michel Basquiat.

What makes the series so profound is hearing Warhol narrate some of his diary entries, achieved by the use of an AI voiceover program. In his deadpan delivery, Warhol not only shares the mundane moments, but goes deeper to express various insecurities, and later his worries about the AIDS crises in the early ‘80s. It’s those vulnerable revelations that allow the series to become an insightful, poignant portrait.

Ford. Firth. Fab.

Fashion designer, Tom Ford made his directorial debut with 2009’s “A Single Man,” which is based on the 1964 novel by Christopher Isherwood. Colin Firth plays a 1960s professor named George Falconer, who is devastated by his partner, Jim’s sudden death (the “phone-call scene” was reason enough for Firth’s Academy Award nomination). Heartbroken, George tries to “just get through the goddamn day,” and it’s through flashbacks that the viewer sees how George and Jim met, as well as a few of the ordinary, yet not any less significant, moments from their life together.

In one such flashback, we see both in domestic bliss, lounging together on opposite sides of a couch, reading, and listening to a record, their two dogs sleeping next to them. A proponent of living, and finding the beauty, in the moment (the overarching message of the film), Jim unexpectedly expresses how content and complete his life is with George: “What could be better than being tucked up here with you.” Practically every moment in the film is beautifully shot. A Single Man is chic; poetic; the epitome of style meets substance.

In summary, whether you’re a member or an ally of the community, hopefully you’ll be able to incorporate one or some or perhaps all five picks to celebrate during the month, and beyond. Happy Pride!

Coppola Mechanism: Francis and Sofia’s Different Portrayals of Loneliness

In between The Godfather and The Godfather Part II, Francis Ford Coppola directed another classic: 1974’s The Conversation. Gene Hackman plays Harry Caul, a San Francisco surveillance expert who delves relentlessly into other people’s lives. Yet after one assignment, which has him initially (just) eavesdropping on a wealthy man’s wife and her male companion, he eventually finds himself trying to save what’s left of his own life. The viewer, funnily enough in an inherently voyeuristic role, sees that it’s not much of a life to begin with (barren loft void of color or personality; awkward attempts at human relations, specifically ones with women). Yet Harry seemingly resounds himself to reclusiveness, a sort of Catholic-induced self-punishment for the guilt that goes along with doing what he knows is wrong.

Coppola’s still-relevant script touches upon themes of technological obsession, voyeurism and paranoia, and its last scene is solemn and unsettling. Slow-jazz saxophone plays over the scene, a disturbingly serene choice to show someone peacefully succumbing to the (literal) mess one has made of his life. While Harry keeps human interaction and emotional involvement at a literal faraway distance, there’s a character in another Coppola creation who wants to intentionally connect with others, but first, with herself.

Partly based on Sofia Coppola’s time in Tokyo during her early twenties, 2003’s Lost in Translation is one of the best at capturing loneliness. The scene when Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) calls a friend on the phone—a symbol of communication and connection—illustrates yet another way Charlotte feels dismissed and disconnected, not just a stranger in a new city, but worse, in her own life. As she sits alone in her hotel room, high atop and removed from the hustle and bustle of the city below, tearful gasps represent, in more ways than one, a longing to find home. The film’s soundtrack of dreamy, melancholic melodies and fuzzy feedback create a sense of… wander, and at times convey a hopeful reawakening for Charlotte, and actor in mid midlife crises, Bob (Bill Murray), both looking to feel refreshed after spending their lives in a (jet lag) haze.

Although both films are almost 30 years apart, Francis and Sofia show characters who are achingly lonely, yet the main difference is that one feels he deserves to be, the others are desperately trying not to be.

The Conversation: Paramount Pictures; Lost In Translation: Focus Features.