A new doc explores the rise, fall and rebirth of troubled fashion genius John Galliano

Macdonald chose to tell the story of the epic rise and fall (and tentative rise again) of Galliano as his latest subject, because, as he said, “I became more and more interested in a post-religious world: how do people redeem themselves? How do they find forgiveness in society?”

The film makes its Canadian premiere on March 15 at Hot Docs, and Vancity on March 22; it will stream on Mubi in the spring.

“It’s really a character study — on some higher level, it’s a film about fashion and the conflict between the individual artist and the industry,” said Macdonald, who admits that before beginning the project, “I knew nothing about fashion. I was probably slightly dismissive of it, if I’m honest.” 

Galliano, now 63, had far to fall: he was a comet in the fashion universe. As the film shows, he blasted onto the radar with his 1984 show at the elite fashion laboratory school Central Saint Martin’s in London with a show based on the French Revolution. He was utterly unconcerned about making money, and made art for art’s sake, bringing the vitality of club life and the New Romantic music movement to the runway. In one early London show, the models came down the runway swinging dead mackerels and tossing them into the audience. Galliano’s shows were dramatic, with dye running down into dresses, and the models acting out the characters in the stories he spun. Narrative was everything. The dresses should have been hard to sell — they had no hanger appeal — but they sold anyway. Within a few years, Galliano was off to Paris, where he soon took over the reigns at Givenchy in 1995, then Dior — the pinnacle — in 1996.

That’s when darkness settled in. At his height of his fame, Galliano was producing some 35 collections a year for both his eponymous label and Dior, with spinoff bag and shoe and jewelry collections all under his supervision. In his personal life, he mixed an obsession with the gym with blackout drinking. In the documentary, he describes this hyperdrive, lost-in-fantasy period by noting: “People don’t usually come out as an astronaut,” or Napoleon, among some of the more outlandish getups he donned for his catwalk bows, flanked by bodyguards. “I couldn’t really tell you when I lost touch with reality,” he says, poignantly, in the film.

Why would Galliano agree to open up his scars and shames for Macdonald’s cameras? “We all have agendas,” suggested the director. “I had an agenda to make a complex film about this subject: one that would promote debate rather than close down debate” on the subject of how forgiveness works differently for everyone.

“For John,” said Macdonald, “his stated goal was: ‘I know people are not going to forgive me, but I want them to understand.’ He doesn’t know why he said what he said, those exact words, but he can understand why he was in this desperate psychological state.”

Galliano was born in Gibraltar; his father was a plumber and the family moved to South London when John was six. He explains in the documentary that he found England “grey, grey, grey” and his exuberant clothing was a reaction to his dulled new scenery. He also says he knew from an early age that he was gay and hints at family turmoil.

Macdonald focuses on one of the Dior shows in particular, in 2003, right after Galliano flew home to bury his father. The director uses the show — a triumph — to show how he himself came to understand why people considered Galliano a genius. The moment of realization for Macdonald, he says, “was when I began to see the level of personal expression in the shows.” The dresses, makeup and music have this violence about them, he says, “blood from the lips” of the models, “greeny blue” makeup to suggest bruises on their faces: “His love for father, love and hatred of Spain, his sense of his lack of inclusion all these things were in the show.”

After the 2011 scandal, a powerful coterie of fashion players stood by Galliano, including Vogue editor Anna Wintour, who helped persuade prominent fashion types to speak up (not always in favour of Galliano, but to talk through the issues with the filmmaker). In the film, Wintour says, “there aren’t that many great designers,” adding of his hate speech, for which he was convicted in a French court, “I knew it was John’s illness. I wanted to help him.” Kate Moss notably tapped Galliano to design her 2011 wedding dress despite the scandal, and talks about how exciting it was to work for her friend on the runway. Fashion’s major players from the ‘90s and noughties also make an appearance, including Jeanne Beker, Tim Blanks and Naomi Campbell. “John clearly is a good friend to some of these people and I think that they have a loyalty to him that is admirable,” says Macdonald. They are still, he says, “taking a risk, those big celebrities: we can question why they are willing to stand by John, but they are willing to take that on-board.” Besides, says Macdonald, “What would you expect this man to be doing for the rest of his life? To be gardening, to be sewing? No, he should be doing what he’s good at.”

In 2014 Galliano landed at a house that is both surprising and perfect for this new phase of his life: Maison Margiela. Its founder Martin Margiela was famous for being invisible. His house was egalitarian, all the assistants wore lab coats, he never was photographed or interviewed. This past January, Galliano returned to couture, showing the Margiela label he designed in Paris: the exploration of transparent corsetry was a critical smash hit.

Galliano has always been a fashion master. Here is how the film has him explaining why he loves the bias cut he was known for at his own label and Dior. “When you cut things on the cross [grain]” he says, “it has its own elasticity. The fibres react to the body. They heat so they become even more sensuous, even more mercurial on the body. They create friction and heat and the dresses would just melt.”

As a fashion reporter through Galliano’s glory years, his show were magical; only Alexander McQueen came close to the theatricality of them. I also wore one of his bias-cut skirts and a bustier (with “I heart John” written on it) to my 2002 wedding (to someone not named John). It truly felt sinuous and transformative, like no other outfit I’ve ever worn.

Macdonald says “The only kind of proviso [Galliano] made was that ‘I don’t want it to be a miserable ending, there has to be some light at the end of the tunnel’ because he feels he’s reborn in a way, he’s a different person than he was. He feels that the incident as horrible as it was, as much as it destroyed, also paradoxically saved his life.” Macdonald admits that it will always end up as the first paragraph of Galliano’s obituary.

So is Galliano redeemed? Macdonald of course wants his film to stir debate and for viewers to decide, but he adds: “I think that John is truly sorry. I think my opinion is that he is being held up to a very high standard now.” Sidney Toledano, the former CEO of Dior, who is Jewish and who “was probably the man most hurt by this has forgiven him, that the ADL [Anti-Defamation League] has forgiven him and sees him as a model of someone who has been through an educational process. I think if they can forgive, then I think everybody else should forgive.”

But to forgive, he adds, doesn’t mean to forget.