In 2008, Truly Indie  http://www.trulyindie.com/ti/  released the documentary Valentino: The Last Emperor.  And I just saw it.  Okay, so I'm running a little late (as usual) but this doc deserves its just deserts.  The subject of this film is, of course, Valentino Garavani, the renowned Italian couturier known by his first name alone.  He is pint-sized, over-tanned in that "I am an absurdly wealthy European and my skin is the same shade and texture as my $1,500 leather shoes" sort of way (see: Donatella Versace), and stubborn as an incredibly chic mule.  Of course, his reign in the fashion world since the 1960's has made him a legend deserving of the right to be an orangesicle-hued dictator. (Below: Valentino on the runway)

There have recently been a slew of fashion-related documentaries or biopics.  Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel got three biopics (Coco Avant Chanel,Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky, and Coco Chanel).  Then there was the documentary The September Issue, centering on American Vogue's Editor-in-Chief, Anna Wintour.  And in the works right now is a biopic revolving around the style icon Isabella Blow, something I'm waiting VERY impatiently for. 
  
In the same way that September Issue offers a sliver of insight into Anna Wintour's daily life and sources of inspiration, we are drawn into the luxe world of Valentino as we struggle to get some glimpse into the inner workings of his mind. For instance, you might notice that there is not a single sewing machine in his workshop - he is the epitome of a perfectionist, but it is his meticulousness that makes him a visionary, fueling the genius of his work, the spectacle of his designs. (Below, a still from The Last Emperor.  Valentino poses with models wearing his signature "Valentino Red" for a photo at his 45th anniversary extravaganza, two months after which he formally retired.)

Also like September Issue, we remain at a distance from our figure of focus- we cannot quite reach him, we are kept at an impersonal angle.
However, perhaps aided by the tiny window into Valentino's relationship with Giancarlo Giammetti, and the sweet, brief moment in which Valentino strolls around with Karl Lagerfeld and Lagerfeld stumbles over a step (gods can stumble?), there is something personal left in the film's wake.  It seems to me to be the mood of a passing golden age, nostalgia in its richest and most dynamic form, and the tragic succession of big business over artistry.  And Valentino personifies all those things.  I'm not ashamed to admit that I actually teared up at the end.  I imagine it's hard to make an emperor into a truly moving subject...hard, but apparently not impossible. 

-K