Sep 5, 2020

I recently watched a long awaited film on my bucket list. Les Parapluies de Cherbourg (The Umbrellas of Cherbourg) had been described to me as a fashion revelation, an experience of sensory transcendence, musical genre collision triumph, and romance that could melt you like butter. Jacques Demy’s 1964 decadent musical romance exceeded my expectations and filled me with a warm and fuzzy afterglow that took days to dim.

The conjuring of magic wasn’t always effortful – the singing poured out in nonchalance while every costume was a casual commentary on the set design for each distinguishable moment. And when you could take your eyes off the wallpaper for a moment the impressionism in the acting was startling.

One shot sat with me. We find ourselves staring at Catherine Deneuve’s despondent and defeated Genevieve, eye to eye, as she sardonically dons a crown in a moment that walloped me. I felt more character exposition in that one shot, solely at the hands of a prop – my favourite find of prop – a hat.

I’m a closet hat person. My friends will know how hard I tried to become a beret girl, and my personal Instagram followers will notice my attempt at my own character exposition through a roulette of profile pictures: Cosmo Kramer in his inadvertent pimp hat, Austin Powers with a feather in his cobalt rim, and a petrified Troy Bolton donning a Hawaiian wreath in a tiki playground.

So I stewed upon moments that stuck with me; moments in a movie where more storytelling has been done by an accoutrement than dialogue in any given moment, and I’ve assembled a miscellaneous hat rack of examples, however zany or touching.

1. The gold foily cardboard crown worn by Catherine Deneuve in Les Parapluies de Cherbourg. Juxtaposed against set decoration of bespoke french umbrellas, deliberately contoured hemlines, wall paper complimenting each mood and balletic choreography about the blocking and camera tracking, the little gold crown strikes as a gimmick pulled from a discarded Christmas bon-bon in a studio’s dejected prop box. Now that it has your attention, it’s a momentary emblem for both fragility and protest.

2. The fluffy animal beanie worn by Sam Rockwell in the final act of Seven Psychopaths. This fellow goes on my all-time-favourite-development-of-character list. He is both cool and riotous and travels an arc at the final destination of which is a coronation so effectively done with a dowdy novelty knit. I shan’t spoil it, just watch the damn film.

3. The lapel carnation worn by Shirley MacLaine in The Apartment. Billy Wilder’s beautiful festive flick that I often define as the perfect romantic comedy is so heavily laden with pathos and heart. The black and white film punctuates the anonymity of the monstrous Manhattan office block setting, and characters flagged with subtle adornments to stand out. We are drawn bright eyed face framed simply in a pixie hair cut with the help of a dandy carnation in her lapel, a simple token that among the dreary and mundane stands for radiance. It says a lot about MacLaine’s Miss Kubelick’s smiles, perkiness and fragility in a perfectly understated yet striking way.

4. The over-sized glasses worn by Abigail Breslin in Little Miss Sunshine. The costuming in this film always intrigued me, as the ensembling of odd balls seemed so deliberate, yet much of the family dressed so unremarkably. The bug eyed expression of the ambitious kid endears us to the convictions with which she battles delusion. We are rallied behind the naif’s every expression on her journey to triumph.

5. The fishing tackle box carried by Kate Hudson’s Penny Lane in Almost Famous. A less obvious pick but Penny Lane’s means of transporting goods is my favourite thing about her earth shattering entrance. It says nonchalance, coolness you can’t understand, mystery and obscure pragmatism. Her role in one of my favourite stories ever wouldn’t have lingered so long in my mind without the iconic coat or the indelible glasses, but the box established unmatchable intrigue.

6. The Tangerine Sweater worn by Kate Winslet in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I’ve watched this movie more than I should have. And honestly, the first time, I couldn’t stand Clementine’s manifestation and this damn hoodie. It was too garish to look directly at, and it wasn’t until I imagined myself as another random passenger aboard that train to Montauk that I realised how effectively the goal had been achieved. Clementine would have relished in my screwed up nose and deflected gaze. What I assumed was an obnoxious way to make her opposing actor’s character Joel seem drab, turned out to be a sincere expression of truth. Bravo.

Enjoy – six sensational movies with strengths surreptitiously spread across every facet. If something that I haven’t listed comes to mind, please tell me! And please forgive me if in the future you ever notice I’ve tried to polish off one of my own outfits with a paper crown.

Bridget O’Brien