CA News No. 31, December 2004

KING AND I: COSTUMES AND THE MAKING OF ALEXANDER
Lloyd Llewellyn-Jones

A year ago I found myself in an extraordinary situation: I was draping a length of pure white linen around the naked torso of one of Hollywood's hottest young properties. The length of cotton was supposed to be a classical Greek himation; the naked torso belonged to Colin Farrell.

Classics takes one to strange places. I've always been aware of that. Classics once took me to the site of Persepolis in Iran with a Channel 4 film crew where I ate a lot of Iranian dirt when, for the sake of art, I had to prostrate myself on the ground in a demonstration of the act of proskynesis. Classics also took me to the vast lecture auditorium of the British Museum one Saturday in February 2003 for a study day on the Achaemenid Empire. I had been invited to speak by Dr St John Simpson on the reception of the Achaemenids in western art and literature from the Renaissance to the present day and I focused my presentation on the representation of Persian dress in painting and in film. Robin Lane Fox spoke that day too and at the end of the event, over a pint in the Museum Tavern, he asked if I would be interested in advising the costume department of Oliver Stone's forthcoming movie Alexander on Greek and Persian dress styles. Robin, of course, was Oliver Stone's chief historical consultant and script editor, as well as being Stone's gateway into the world of Alexander. I played it cool. Then within seconds I accepted Robin's invitation with gratitude and incomprehensible babble. After all, I immediately realised that I was being granted a unique opportunity to utilise and expand my knowledge of three important elements of my working life: ancient history, dress history and film studies.

I wasn't wrong. I immediately began to make regular trips to Pinewood Studios on the outskirts of London. I met with some familiar faces, including that of Dulcie Scott -Wardrobe Supervisor- whom I'd met a year or so earlier when I'd been approached to work in a similar capacity on Mel Gibson's proposed 10-hour TV min-series of the life of Alexander. The epic fell by the wayside, as so many such projects so, although at the time rumours of Stone going head-to-head with Baz Luhrmann on an Alexander film were rife.

Pinewood Studios is an extraordinary place, a real dream factory. On my lunch break during my first visit I walked through several of the enormous sound stages where films were already in production. I had the bizarre experience of walking across Tracey Island where the Thunderbirds movie was being filmed, and then onto the stage of the Paris Opera House where The Phantom of the Opera was in production. The Alexander wardrobe department was in less opulent surroundings. Situated near the Stanley Kubrick building, it was a makeshift structure of about a dozen rooms consisting of workshops and cutting rooms, design offices and storage areas.

On that first visit I was met with open arms -and a sense of relief -by the costume designer and her staff. They were in panic mode: Oliver Stone was making a tour of the design departments the following week and he needed to get an idea of where the "look" of the film was going. We spent a week putting together, not necessarily successfully, makeshift costumed dummies wearing the types of ethnic garments the film required: Greek armour, Persian court robes, Scythian riding clothes, Egyptian ceremonial wear, and so forth.

I had my first meeting with Oliver Stone later that week. An imposing man of well over 6 feet tall, he is the epitome of charisma. We got on very well right from my introduction to him: "You're the Oxford professor?" he asked. "Not quite", I replied, "but I am a historian." "Jesus Christ, you look so young!" he returned. I later understood that Stone's benchmark for what an academic should look like was Robin Lane Fox (no offence Robin!) and despite being a man of great vision I don't think that to this day Stone has changed his mind.

Stone did his long-anticipated tour of the design departments: first the armoury where all the meticulous leather and bronze work was being constructed; then the set department and finally the wardrobe area. I accompanied him throughout as he fired off questions at machine-gun pace: "What's the proper colour for a king's robe?"; "What's a mitra?"; "What colour should the Macedonian star be?"; "How big was the Shield of Achilles?" My answers (responses, at least) were written down by a dozen or so production assistants who accompanied him at every turn. "What was the king of Persia like? How was he treated?" he asked. "Rather like this", I answered. He laughed -thankfully.

That was the Friday. On Saturday I went to spend a few days in Edinburgh. It was there I received a phone-call from Dulcie Scott: "When you come back to Pinewood next week, there will have been some changes made." "Oh?" "Yes. Oliver has decided to replace the costume department with new people." And so he had. I returned to the Studio on Tuesday to be welcomed by a completely new set of friendly -and equally grateful -people. Stone had decided the costume "look" for the film did not conform to his vision. Consequently, with Hollywood panache (or ruthlessness), he replaced the entire Wardrobe staff (some of whom he had worked with for many years) with new blood. I was stunned, but in the long run delighted.

Jenny Bevan, the new designer, is a remarkable person with a string of hits to her name, having designed such large-scale period films as Gosford Park, A Room With A View and, most recently, Anna and the King. Her approach to costume, like mine, was organic: look at the research, yes, but get practical straight away. Jenny and I, together with a small crack-force of cutters and fitters, spent many happy hours draping fabrics acquired from around the world onto stands -here a Greek himation made from pure wool embroidered with vine leaves; here an elaborate Achaemenid court robe made from Indian silk; and here a leather cuirass embellished with a cloak of yellow linen. Jenny's task was daunting. She had to create garments for all the named characters, showing progression of time and status, and costume many thousands of extras too - whole armies of Greeks and Persians. A separate armour department was set up to deal with the logistics of outfitting so many individuals.

Meanwhile I concentrated on the principals with Jenny - and with the make-up and hair designers too (for which we did many trips to the British Museum together). One of our biggest problems was trying to outfit the Persian royal women, because in all of my research I could only manage to find one small seal and a few statuettes (mainly headless) as reference. This was problematic. I knew that female dress in the Persian court essentially followed male styles; that was not the problem. But what did they wear on their heads? What hair-styles did they adopt?

An answer to my problem came when I visited the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul that summer. I came across a few high- crowned wedding headdresses from Turkmenistan, bought them all and took them in to Jenny and her team. These, I explained, should be the basis of our Persian royal female headdresses. I acknowledged that we had no substantial reference material on the reality of court styles and so I showed Jenny a few pictures of women from Palmyra -many centuries later than the Achaemenid period, admittedly, but the statuettes showed women in elaborate .'turbans" with jewelled attachments and veils which would give our Persian women a .'look" which set them apart from the Greek women of the film. I suddenly realized that I was thinking the Hollywood way. I was compromising on historical reality because of artistic necessity -and this was a huge learning curve for me in understanding why film-makers make certain decisions about the look of a film. Jenny welcomed me to her world, and the Persian robes and headdresses were completed (see photograph).

The movie stars themselves were, without exception, remarkably open to wearing the odd garments Jenny and I kept throwing at them. I remember Colin Farrell being very excited at his first major costume fitting as he changed from one suit of armour to the next, then into Persian trousers, Bactrian robes and Greek himatia. He felt he was getting to know Alexander better with each costume change. He was particularly thrilled with the purple and gold cloak he wore during the shoot of Alexander's entry into Babylon, a robe based on the design of the royal textiles discovered at Vergina which I had brought to Jenny's attention some months earlier. I remember teaching Colin the etiquette of wearing the Greek himation -letting it slip off the shoulder and waist with the studied negligence which is so often depicted in Greek vase paintings.

Rosario Dawson, the most delightful of all the cast, revelled in her costumes for Roxane, Alexander's Bactrian bride, and didn't even mind spending the first twenty minutes of her part in the film shrouded beneath a face veil (me and veils!).

It was only Angelina Jolie, as Olympias, who suggested that her accurate Greek garments should be adapted to give Olympias more of a sense of character. Consequently, and in keeping with the needs of the film, she wears a one-shoulder- covering fitted gown which emphasizes Olympias' hard-edged drive. Angelina was right: the soft drapes of a chiton would not persuade the audience that here we have a ..hard-faced bitch".

Working on Alexander has been a richly rewarding experience both as a movie fan (let's face it, I loved meeting the stars) and as a historian. My perception of Hollywood filmmaking has changed radically, as have some of my pre- conceptions of how ancient clothing actually functioned. I was able to put many of my theories into practice and I was pleased to see in three-dimensions how my ideas of, say, the draping of Persian robes worked in reality. I'm proud of my contribution to Alexander and pleased with its final look. The film is a credit to Oliver Stone's vision and passion for Alexander's story, to Robin Lane Fox's human approach to history, and to Jenny Bevan's extraordinary skill and sensitivity. The costumes are Oscar-worthy. My money is on Jenny for winning one. Go see the film and judge for yourselves!

CA News No. 31, December 2004