In 1862, Crimean War nursing veteran Lib Wright (Florence Pugh) sets off from London to the foggy Irish Midlands for a mystifying endeavor. Thirteen years since the Great Famine, devout villagers are eager to believe in a miracle: Young Anna (Kíla Lord Cassidy) hasn’t eaten in four months, and Lib must determine whether the 11-year-old truly is surviving on “manna from heaven.”
Lib’s vibrant blue nursing ensemble feels bold and authoritative, as she challenges the village’s — and the all-male tribunal’s — rigidity with her pragmatic, science-based knowledge. “Lib is coming as the modern, practical woman, going into a repressed, traditional society,” says costume designer Odile Dicks-Mireaux. “She’s trying to show there’s another world out there, really.”
Dicks-Mireaux’s research revealed that the highly trained Nightingale nurses did not wear a standard uniform but just “something practical.” Thus, she gleaned inspiration from imagery of bold color against the dusty Oregon desert in another 19th century-set movie, Kelly Reichardt’s Meek’s Cutoff. Director Sebastián Lelio, who didn’t want a “sad-looking film,” made the final decision on the commanding shade of blue, which looks striking against the lush Irish landscape.
Over her 15-day examination of Anna, Lib’s linen layers — a basque waistline dress and a tonal herringbone jacket with a peplum and pagoda sleeves — take on a life of their own. As she becomes more frantic, Lib leaves her outer-layer buttons undone and forgoes her light petticoats, altering the shape of her skirt, which also becomes increasingly muddy.
Lib’s detachable eyelet lace collar, an authentic vintage piece, speaks to cleanliness practices during infrequent Victorian-era laundering while also offering a character tell. Lib starts her assignment with the delicate accoutrement worn in an immaculate manner. As she soon discovers the reason for Anna’s brother’s absence, the scalloped corners are neglectfully tucked under her jacket. In a literally and figuratively exposed moment, Lib, suffering from her own personal traumas, wears the collar still attached to her chemise undershirt — but not much else. Then, it’s gone altogether, “as she becomes more distracted about how she’s going to save the child,” says Dicks-Mireaux, “rather than being the prim, proper Florence Nightingale nurse.”
Till (United Artists)
Chinonye Chukwu’s Emmett Till biopic opens with a tender, carefree mother-son moment: Mamie Till (Danielle Deadwyler) and her 14-year-old (Jalyn Hall) playfully sing in the car as they drive to Chicago department store Marshall Field’s. Mamie’s rose pink dress, with floral texture coordinating with her petal-like Juliette cap, parallels the spirit of her son’s striped button-up in his signature golden yellow “to match the emotion, the vibrance and the cinematic language,” says costume designer Marci Rodgers. “I wanted it to be equal to Emmett’s shirt.”
A professional working in the Air Force office, Mamie is, as always, impeccably outfitted from head to toe: white gloves, beaded bag, spotless black pumps and rhinestone jewelry favored by the real Till. Mamie knows the racism she’ll face in the store — and she’ll need to shield Emmett from it. Rodgers, who custom-built the dress, recognized the importance of “setting the tone that Mamie was a woman of grace, poise, class and Black excellence, no matter what.”
A proud Windy City native, Rodgers also understood the gravity of depicting the historic black-and-white photo documentation — which helped spark the civil rights movement — through dynamic costumes. “The world does not know what Black Chicago — Black America — looked like in 1955 in color,” says Rodgers.
Before apprehensively sending Emmett off on a train South, Mamie emulates her son’s bright palette in a nature-printed marigold silhouette with cap sleeves, a trompe l’oeil bolero and gathered skirting. “That dress represented letting her son go to Mississippi,” says Rodgers. “Be small,” says Mamie, warning the bright, confident Emmett, whose tie and pocket square set gleams with gold in the prism patterns. Later at the train station, in a “full circle” costume callback, a background actor, in yellow, will walk by the duo as they say what will be their final goodbyes. “Her son was a martyr, and she had to take that on and be the light and beacon of it through her pain,” says Rodgers.
Staying true to Steven Spielberg’s personal photos of his pianist mom Leah Adler, costume designer Mark Bridges placed purposeful “Easter eggs” throughout the costumes worn by onscreen matriarch Mitzi Fabelman (Michelle Williams). “Steven would recognize it as his mother’s style,” says the two-time Oscar winner about underscoring significant moments of connection (or strain) between Mitzi and her aspiring auteur son, Sammy (Gabriel LaBelle).
Teen Spielberg alter ego Sammy documents a fateful Fabelman camping trip with his 8mm turret camera. Sitting around the campfire, Mitzi, who steadfastly encourages her son’s artistic pursuits, wears a plaid wool cape with her trademark — and Adler-loved — Peter Pan collar peeking out. “That’s actually in [Spielberg] home movies. She made a poncho out of a blanket,” says Bridges, recalling footage of Adler “frolicking in the snow.” He custom-designed a similar cloak for Mitzi, harmonizing with checks-clad father Burt (Paul Dano) and Sammy’s sister, but without telling Spielberg beforehand. “You could see that he was touched by that,” says Bridges of the director’s quiet recognition upon seeing Williams in costume. “He went out and shot that scene for two nights, and we never said a word about it.”
Following an ensuing rift with Mitzi, Sammy screens his amateur World War II epic, Escape to Nowhere, for his fellow Boy Scouts, parents and family friend Bennie (Seth Rogen). Bridges referenced a black-and-white photo of Adler, looking on as a young Spielberg receives a Scouts badge. In a cerulean dress with a white rounded flat collar and strand of pearls, Mitzi beams with pride and amazement at her son’s impressive work. “[Sammy] gives her a cold shoulder,” says Bridges, who wanted to evoke a formative “memory” through his wardrobe composition. “That blue dress very much sticks out in that sea of green.”
Bridges recalls Spielberg’s initial reaction on set after seeing Williams, Dano and Rogen in costume for that turning point in the film. “He was choked up,” says Bridges. “So, my work is done here, I felt.”
This story first appeared in a Jan. stand-alone issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. To receive the magazine, click here to subscribe.
