TBT: Les Misérables (2012)

I was flying home from a long stay in Paris, and saw Les Misérables (2012) on the in-flight options. Having just listened to an audiobook about the history of the lower-class side of Paris, I was in the mood! Plus, high school me was a HUGE Les Mis fan. I could sing the entire thing, right now. I could even do parts of the French version! I’d seen this filmed version before, but probably not since it came out in 2012, so my memories had faded. That being said, I honestly feel overwhelmed at the thought of trying to do a deep dive into the historical accuracy of things just because there’s so much menswear and so many eras, so much so that I’ve put off this review for several months!

Designer Paco Delgado (The Danish Girl, Jungle Cruise, Death on the Nile) is quoted in several places as saying that the story covers 1815 to 1848, but I’m hoping that 1848 is a typo, because the June Rebellion that forms the focus of the story happened in 1832, and according to most timelines, the end of the story happens the following year. Let’s hope he meant 1838? Because fashion in 1848 has some serious differences from the 1830s that we never see on screen.

Obviously, as a musical, Les Misérables required some artistic interpretations for the costumes, not strict historical accuracy. Nonetheless, according to the Montreal Gazette,

“Before shooting even began, Delgado spent five month preparing with research at the Victoria & Albert Museum in London and in Paris at the Musee du Louvre, scouring flea markets in England, Spain and Italy for vintage fabric suppliers of deadstock wool and antique linen, and assembling a costume team of more than 30 to work around the clock building costumes before and during production” (Fashioning Les Mis).

In order to convey the story’s themes, and go along with the heightened reality of a musical, color became very important. According to Delgado,

“Most of the period’s paintings had a lot of red, white and blue, and we tried to use that patriotic French palette through the movie” (Paco Delgado did his homework to design ‘Les Misérables’ costumes).

And he told the LA Times that he used a lot of paintings as references:

“We did a lot with paintings, Delacroix, Goya, [Jacques-Louis] David, Ingres — paintings were the photography of the period” (Narrative Threads).

Let’s take a look at the main character’s costumes, working chronologically through each, and look at the design decisions as they relate to both the story AND the history.

 

Valjean’s Costumes

Valjean’s story starts in 1815ish, when he’s a convict in the “Bagne of Toulon,” a penal colony in the south of France that’s very interesting to read about. According to Wikipedia and citing a source from 1929 (so yes, should be taken with some grains of salt),

“The predominant color of the prisoner’s costumes was red, the traditional color of the uniforms worn by the crews on the galleys in the 16th and 17th centuries. The costumes of the prisoners consisted of a white shirt, yellow trousers, red vest and smock and a cap which had different colors depending on the sentence duration… Under Napoleon, the red caps were reinstated for all prisoners. The trousers were buttoned the whole length of the leg, so they could be removed without taking off the iron ring and chain on their ankle. The prisoners were shaven and were given a peculiar haircut, with one sideburns on one side shaven and on the other allowed to grow, so they could be identified more easily if they escaped” (Bagne of Toulon).

In the role, Hugh Jackman wears a red shirt with no vest that appears to be cut to period models:

His shirt has his prisoner number on it, and he wears it over tattered long trousers:

In this era, men’s shirts were long and boxy — in fact they often served as men’s underwear, being long enough to tuck between the legs:

Once he’s released, Valjean wears yet more tattered clothes, but this long a long robe and clogs that’s very monkish. This was purposeful according to Delgado,

“It is very monastic, his life. And once, in Morocco, I saw shepherds in the Atlas mountains wearing these long coats made with very, very coarse wool from the sheep that they had.” Delgado scoured his sources for the right material to no avail until, by serendipity they unearthed three monks’ outfits in a vintage London supplier. “They were made from this very coarse wool, very faded and with a lot of degrees of colour – from grey to bluish greys to black and I thought, ‘This is the fabric.’ We cut them down to make the coat” (Love, loss and what they wore: The costumes of Les Misérables).

Furthermore, Delgado says,

“One of the things [director] Tom [Hooper] wanted for [Valjean] was to portray that he had a journey into sainthood somehow. He thought he was a man with a quest. He wanted to show at the beginning that he was a really rough person, and little by little he got more sophisticated. So we started with a very dramatic color, a really bright red color, in the jail and used rough textures, rough linens and coarse wools, and as he gets more sophisticated his palette gets more sophisticated.”

And,

“Jean Valjean starts out on the lowest rung of society, wearing raggedy clothes of many textures, and he slowly becomes more sophisticated in terms of color and fabric,” (The man who dressed ‘Les Mis’).

Six years later (so 1821ish), Valjean has become a wealthy factory owner. He’s now dressed fashionably, with fawn-colored long breeches, grayish waistcoat, green jacket, and black or blue overcoat with a HUGE collar:

Late 1810s/early 1820s menswear was relatively high-waisted, with a bit of puff around the sleeves, a nipped waist, and long trousers being newly fashionable:

Coats were long, hats were high, and collars could be HUGE:

When he goes to rescue Cosette, his hat is slightly smaller and his coat has a capelet that looks similar to the fashion plate above:

During the 1832 uprising, when most the action takes place, Valjean is still dressed fashionably and well in a similar vein:

This makes sense, as early 1830s fashions aren’t that different for men, although coats are becoming even more skirt-ier and the puffy shoulder is more exaggerated:

When Valjean joins the revolutionaries, he’s dressed as a soldier:

There is NO HUMAN WAY I could ever track down information about different French regiments etc., so I will just offer this image, in which I see similar colors and epaulets, for comparison:

When Valjean is dying, which is apparently around 1838, Delgado says,

“By the end we wanted to show him in a Minimalistic aura, a whitish, monkish look. I took this from a Goya painting.”

 

Javert’s Costumes

Javert — first a prison guard, later a police inspector — is all about uniforms, and starts in a royal blue that eventually fades to black as his character becomes more hardcore in his persecution of Valjean. According to Delgado,

“The thing with Javert is that at the beginning we talked about a guy who was getting darker and darker through the movie, that’s the reason we started with a bright blue. We then start darkening his costume because we thought his character was getting more deeply sorrowful, more sombre, more complex, in a way – obsessed with trying to catch a man who was almost uncatchable.”

Russell Crowe starts in his guard’s uniform:

What did the Barge guards wear? Wikipedia includes this image of prisoners and guards from later in the period. I can’t tell if they’ve got the double breasted bit, but I do see similar hats:

Then it’s a succession of darkening uniforms with silver trims, which Delgado says, “The reason to use more and more silver on his uniform with him is to portray what an important person he became at the end of his life.”

We’re on the record for knowing nothing about uniforms, so I will just offer you some images of early 19th century French policemen:

Javert goes undercover as a revolutionary, wearing a long black coat and cap:

What did lower-ish class men wear in early 1830s Paris? Often their clothes were secondhand and/or made of rougher materials, but the general style lines of what’s fashionable are still the same:

 

Fantine’s Costumes

Fantine is the tragic ingenue. As a working-class young woman in 1821ish, she wears pink and lavender, but faded to demonstrate that she’s barely keeping things afloat. She works in a factory assembling rosaries, where everyone else is in blue (Fantine has a blue pinafore). Delgado says that this was to tie in with Hugo’s religious focus in his book, stating,

“One of the first things that Tom said to me is that he wanted that factory to look in fact a little bit like a nunnery. Like a convent of girls, where purity was there. Obviously blue is a colour associated with purity, and also associated with nuns and the Virgin Mary. We chose it for those connotations.”

Anne Hathaway wears a pinky lavender dress, which,

“The pink dress worn by Fantine… during the factory scene was chosen to make her appear as an outsider, as well as to show a stark visual contrast against the other workers wearing dull blue uniforms” (Everett C. Much ado about clothing oscar-nominated costumers create character by design. New York Daily News. Feb 22 2013).

And she wears her hair down, and as I’ve gone over, no female above an infant would leave their hair down in this era.

Fantine’s dress is fashionable in its high-waisted, narrow-skirted lines, and the long sleeves make it appropriate to daywear, although I (as always) question the low neckline. Here’s what was going on in late 1810s/early 1820s women’s fashions. Note the high-waisted “Regency” waist is still there, although slightly lower than in previous decades, and the skirt is slightly fuller and more A-line.

Of course, these are all fussier than Fantine’s dress, but that’s for a reason — she can’t afford (and wouldn’t spend her money on) frills and trims. Working class women in this era tended to dress fashionably:

But of course Fantine is teetering on the edge, and her clothes are old and worn. When she becomes a prostitute, she wears dark red, which Delgado reported was meant to tie to Valjean’s prisoner costume. Her outfit includes a red corset, faded red chemise, and tattered red petticoat that appears to be several layers of sheer materials:

The corset is cut on good lines, with inset gores and seaming, although most corsets in this era were white for practicality (white fabrics are very easy to bleach):

But that petticoat or skirt confuses me. Most petticoats of the era would be made of white cotton and then starched for fullness. They often usually had an attached bodice, because of that high waistline:

Sadly most images of prostitutes from this era of those who are doing well. It’s hard to find images of those who are REALLY down and out.

 

Madame Thénardier’s Costumes

One half of the comic relief, Mme Thénardier was already my favorite character but then you add a performance by Helena Bonham Carter and I’m in love! Delgado says,

“We thought of them [the Thénardiers] like being magpies, stealing everything as they do, and thought we could incorporate that idea into their costumes… Madame Thenardier, Helena Bonham Carter, has a mix-match of a lot of ideas in that costume – a very old matador sleeve, cut up and used like a collage on her.”

That matador sleeve came from a conversation between the Spanish-born designer and Carter:

“Just by chance, when talking to Helena Bonham Carter [Madame Thenardier] she said, ‘Do you know my mother’s Spanish?’ I started to think about putting Spanish elements to her costume.”

Carter wears a very 18th-century-cut bodice with only the one long sleeve; it’s trimmed with intricate pleated striped ribbon. Her skirt is a full quilted patchwork:

In terms of the “matador sleeve,” let’s compare to:

However, what I see more of are the pleated trims from the late 18th century Spanish “maja” look, which I’ve discussed previously and had lots of pleated ribbon trims. This could also account for the late 18th century lines of madame’s bodice, although it could also be to show she’s wearing very old clothes.

Quilted petticoats were indeed fashionable, particularly in the 18th century. They don’t make too much sense given the straightish, A-line silhouette of 1820ish, however!

Madame Thénardier’s ensemble does make sense in that it’s clearly bits and pieces thrown together. What makes less sense is that the whole thing doesn’t really follow fashionable lines, which would have still been of interest even to someone wearing second-hand clothes. Here’s some working women from this era:

When we find her again in 1832, things aren’t going so well. She’s in an ill-fitting orange shirt, faded stripey corset, and striped skirt. The full skirt makes more sense given that now the narrow Empire skirt has gone out of fashion.

Later, however, she’s coming back up in the world in a busily patterned dress and bonnet with lots of feathers:

The dress itself looks good in terms of cut, with the low-ish neckline (very typical of the 1830s), full sleeves, and full skirt.

The fabric print seems pretty loud, but that both suits the character and they were indeed getting into some gaudy prints in this period:

And finally, at Marius and Cosette’s wedding in 1838, she’s got tons of money and is happy to show it. Her gown is made of silk, which is unusual for this production — they had to avoid any fabrics that might make sound (e.g. taffeta) because they were recording the singing as they filmed, rather than dubbing it over later, and taffeta makes noise. But I don’t think Mme sings in this bit, and that might be something more satin-y?

It’s a mix of different layered fabrics, with pleating across the bust and long oversleeves over short puffed undersleeves and a wide sash:

Those kind of crossed long pleats over the bodice were very fashionable, as were sashes:

 

Monsieur Thénardier’s Costumes

Played by Sacha Baron Cohen, Monsieur Thénardier is the other half of the comedic pair. His initial costume, in 1821, involves a green military jacket and red knee-length breeches, which would be out of fashion:

“Monsieur Thenardier wears breeches and a military jacket trimmed in fringe and braid, like an overgrown toy soldier; in the book he says all the time that he was at Waterloo, helping Napoleon. We thought he would have stolen his jacket, which is almost rotten by the time he has got it, not from a simple soldier but from a general!”

We looked a bit at military wear above, but here’s a few more sources, specifically of “hussar” uniforms, which seem to me to have inspired this (hussars were originally Hungarian, and wore Ottoman-inspired uniforms with lots of horizontal braid):

In 1832, when the family is down on their luck, he’s switched to a faded patterned waistcoat, long coat, and striped trousers.

But then things look up and Monsieur goes to town with a purple coat and super tall hat:

You don’t have to look far to find silly menswear in the 1830s:

Finally, Monsieur shows up at the wedding in 1838 in a stripey suit that looks straight out of the 1780s-90s, which seems weird except that it’s faaaaabulous:

Compare to these late 18th century suits, with their stripes and cutaway line over the torso:

 

Cosette’s Costumes

Cosette is Miss Innocent Perfection. Says Delgado, “We always thought of Cosette like a flower – the reason we used peaches and lilacs and all the colours you could see in a garden.” Of course, in Fantine’s dying vision (in 1821), she’s dressed in virginal white and fashionably, with a high waisted dress with multiple puffs down the arm:

Those kinds of puffs were quite fashionable, and were a Renaissance-revival trend:

The reality is that Cosette is wearing the rattiest of the rags, in grey and dark brown witha subtle stripe:

By 1832, she’s 17ish and has been attending convent school, and Delgado dresses actress Amanda Seyfried in black “because she was living in a convent and had this sort of saint kind of look, a proper girl at a convent school.” She has flanges on her bodice, which go along the (historically accurate!) princess seams and over the sleeve cap. She has a HUGE bonnet, and, giant sigh, only the front of her hair pinned back with the rest hanging loose in beachy waves.

We mocked this hair using this promo image, because it just looks SO STUPID with the huge bonnet.

Yes, they wore giant-ass bonnets — it’s one of this period’s hallmarks:

She and Marius hook up while she’s in an embroidered dressing gown. Delgado says, “We intended it to be an explosion of emotions coming from her in the romance.”

Later, while nursing Marius, Cosette wears a printed cotton dress with several puffs down the arm and a wide lace collar:

This dress is spot on for the era, both the print and most of the details:

The multi-puff sleeves are a bit more post-1838, when sleeves started to slim down:

While still in nursing mode, she wears a greyish dress with a subtle woven pattern and reddish ribbon embroidered flowers. It’s great, just like the dresses shown above.

For her wedding, she wears pink with short evening-lengths sleeves, another embroidered collar with long ends that tuck into her sash, and finally hallelujah her hair up!

Cosette’s dress works well enough for 1830s bridal fashions, although I question the evening sleeve.

 

Eponine’s Costumes

Young Eponine is spoiled rotten, so despite her parents (the Thénardiers) having no money, she’s dressed in a pretty lavender high-waisted dress with lots of embroidery:

Cut to 1832, however, and actress Samantha Barks almost in rags. Her outfit consists of a dark reddish printed full skirt, brown sort-of-corset-y thing, brown fichu, and wide leather belt. And no hairpins. Which I can at least buy, if she’s going to present as this darn poor.

What did really poor women wear in this era? See above re: Madame Thénardier for working-class women. For the poorest of the poor, once again, it’s hard to find sources, but here’s a few, all beggars:

And check out this image of a woman fighting in a two-years-earlier Parisian uprising:

 

Marius’s Costumes

Marius is somewhere in-between rich and poor. According to Delgado, “We wanted to play all the time with this sort of incongruity. He obviously is a rich guy who pretends he is poor and all those things had to be inside his costume somehow.” We meet him in 1832.

Eddie Redmayne gets a bunch of suits in combination of browns and blues:

If they weren’t inspired by these images of period revolutionaries, I will eat my hat:

For his wedding in 1838ish, Marius wears white tie:

This checks out, compare to:

What did you think of the costumes in Les Misérables? Did they strike the right blend of history and theatricality?

 

Find this frock flick at: