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This new film, directed by Andy Tennant and starring Drew Barrymore, Anjelica Huston and Dougray Scott, is a totally charming version of a well-known fairy tale. Set within a frame in which a 19th century descendant, played by the stately Jeanne Moreau, meets with the Brothers Grimm, Ever After dramatizes the "true" story behind Cinderella's tale, which takes place in the France of the Renaissance. Young Danielle, whose father dotes on her by bringing her books from his travels and letting her fight with the neighbor boy, is a bright and loving child, eager to be accepted by her new stepmother and stepsisters when Auguste remarries. After his untimely death, however, she finds herself relegated to the status of a servant, struggling to maintain the family estate amongst the neglect and extravagances of Ludmilla, her father's widow. When she catches a young man stealing one of their horses, she beans him quite accurately with an apple, and then is appalled to find that the thief is the rebellious Prince Henry. Later, Danielle meets the prince again while, disguised as a noblewoman, she tries to recover a servant who has been sold to pay for her stepmother's taxes. The prince is intrigued by this unknown (as he thinks) courtier who speaks her mind and is filled with passion for life and justice.
But enough of reality! What about the costumes? I'm not an expert on Renaissance clothing, but the shapes, lines and colors appear generally accurate (reflecting the Italian influence on French fashion in the first half of the 16th century), up to and including Ludmilla's balzo headdresses. Costume designer Jenny Beavan is certainly no slouch in the historical costuming department. She has been the designer for the Royal Shakespeare Company and for most of the recent Merchant Ivory film productions, winning an Oscar in 1987 for A Room with a View, with five additional nominations (The Bostonians, Maurice, Howard's End, The Remains of the Day and Sense & Sensibility). There is a lot of detail in all of the clothing, including that worn by servants and peasants. Danielle "borrows" her stepsister's gowns for her masquerades as a countess, and the observant eye will recognize Danielle in dresses worn in earlier scenes by the stylish but insufferable Marguerite. (Fortunately for Danielle, Henry -- like most men -- doesn't notice this and make the connection between the two young women.)
Beavan stayed with the less ostentatious early Renaissance styles (no huge farthingales or ruffs), but adds variety with rich colors, lovely brocades, and attractive styles such as the open robes championed by Catherine de Medici. The men's court costumes also use subtler Renaissance styles. Henry, in particular, eschews decorative doublets and gaudy colors. I must say that I have never seen his favored leather riding ensemble in any historical costume book -- it's more of a "Renaissance Rocketeer" jacket -- but it is gorgeous. The minimalism of Danielle's undergarments can be attributed to the demands of her strenuous everyday activities. However, her ability to dress herself in a back-laced court gown is right up there with her other unusual talents, such as quoting Thomas More and defending herself with a sword: quite impressive!
In a nice touch, Danielle's ball gown is her dowry: an heirloom from her mother, who died giving birth to her. A lovely bejewelled silver and white creation, it is scorned by Marguerite as being an "antique" but the scheming stepsister nonetheless tries to steal it to wear herself. Da Vinci creates a set of wings to transform Danielle's entrance at the ball into pure fairy tale. And, of course, there are the shoes: made by Salvatore Ferragamo, a sly touch for the benefit of the viewer who knows the sources of modern-day accessory magic. (Ferragamo also has replicas of Cinderella's slippers for sale at $2,500 -- your size not guaranteed, though.)
