Unzipped, the self-described "frockumentary" of fashion designer Isaac Mizrahi, is such a confident, winning movie that it has the audacity to open with a bad review. It's the morning after Mizrahi's spring '94 fashion show, and he walks to the local newstand to read the press on his collection. The reviews are devastating, deeming virtually every aspect of his show a failure. "It's just the worst day of my life," Mizrahi deadpans. Fade out. Cue the music. Against a screen of black, a line of text appears: This is the story of how the next collection gets made. It's an engaging start, providing the audience with both a leading man to root for, and, in more ways than one, a rags-to-riches story to follow.
Filmed by first-time director Douglas Keeve in the style of Madonna: Truth or Dare, Unzipped provides a fairly candid portrait of Mizrahi's life. You see Mizrahi at work designing clothes, at home playing the piano, even throwing temper tantrums about his weight. There are unflattering moments, but the overall portrayal is sympathetic, in part because Keeve is Mizrahi's boyfriend. (Although this is never explored in the movie, it is interesting to know that they broke up soon after filming was completed.)
The film succeeds because of Mizrahi's penchant for the absurd; the storyline is little more than an excuse for him to flash his considerable wit. In explaining how he finds inspiration for a collection, which is "Eskimo-chic" for the coming show, Mizrahi digresses: "All I want to do is fur pants, but I know, like, if I do them, I'll get stoned off of 7th Avenue like some wanton heretic or something. So there won't be any fur pants coming down my runway. It's about women not wanting to look like cows, I guess. And, in fact, there's something very charming about cows." Mizrahi, like any self-appointed fashion dictator, tends to overstate ("I'd kill for a swatch of that wallpaper!" ). But neither he nor the film itself comes off as pretentious. Keeve, while enjoying the insider's access to catch all the juicy footage, maintains an outsider's perspective, particularly in the editing. He allows absurdity to mock itself (a fashion editor proclaims repeatedly "You have just made fashion history!"). And when Eartha Kitt makes a spooky appearance as a Mizrahi devotee (she coos archly, "Will you make me gowns?"), Keeve juxtaposes this scene with Mizrahi's catty imitation of her; what may have been curious becomes heady and hilarious.
Though various celebrities appear throughout, it is the supermodels who captivate the camera. Even more beautiful on screen than in print, it's interesting to see how they act behind the scenes, or how they want you to think they act. There's perfectly professional Cindy Crawford, a moody Kate Moss, and coy Naomi Campbell, whose turn on the runway is one of the high-points of the movie; she plays peek-a-boo with a yellow sequined mini-dress under a voluminous, black, fake-fur coat. But it is Linda Evangelista, in her "performance" as a bitchy supermodel, who threatens to steal the film from Mizrahi. Her determination to make a scene at all costs provides a shot of brattiness right where the movie needs it. Being primped for her next turn on the runway, she abuses the cameraman. "Sweetie, SWEETIE, you always have [that microphone] IN MY FACE!" Linda then stares down the camera with a glowering look that practically sneers, hate me all you want, the camera loves me.
But in the end, the runway show itself is the star. Though Keeves shoots the rest of the film primarily in black-and-white, he uses color film to capture the vivid colors of Mizrahi's designs. The movie comes alive: music starts pumping, models line up, and the photographers click away. The camera follows a nervous Kate Moss as she makes her debut on the runway. When Isaac stops her at the entrance to make a panicked adjustment, you suddenly realize that each outfit is the culmination of six months of hard work and thousands of dollars of labor, and that each model has only 10 seconds to sell it to the entire world. Kate has good reason to be nervous, and by this point, you're nervous for her. This world of fashion, which is played for laughs in the first hour of the movie, is transformed on the runway into serious business. The little old ladies sitting behind me in the theater tittered, "It's so exciting." And it is, not only for its quick pace and glamour, but because you're holding your breath for Mizrahi's success. During most of the runway show, he's inconspicuous; when he emerges for his bow at the conclusion, amidst his tangerine and teal fake-fur creations, it's almost an epiphany. The reviews of the show won't be in till the next morning, but the designer's mother, Sarah Mizrahi, exclaims immediately, "It was quintessential Isaac:M-Jwarm and witty and fun and colorful." Of course, she meant the clothes, but it's also a perfect fit for the movie as itself.
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