The Marc in Marc by Sofia is Marc Jacobs; the Sofia is Lost in Translation director Sofia Coppola, who directed this documentary about the fashion designer. The two are close friends, and the title is a reference to “Marc by Marc Jacobs,” the designer’s former side line of handbags, perfumes and the like.
Coppola’s good-natured, watchable film hangs the Jacobs story along the narrative thread of preparation for his Spring 2024 show in New York City. Born and raised in the Big Apple, mostly by his grandmother, he showed signs of prodigal talent while at Parsons School of Design. He went on to work for Perry Ellis and Louis Vuitton, among many other achievements, before focusing on his own line. He’s highly entrepreneurial as well as creative; his empire even includes bookstores, BookMarc.
Inevitably, Marc by Sofia recalls Unzipped, the 1995 documentary about Isaac Mizrahi. Jacobs is a less ebullient screen presence than Mizrahi, however. A reflective, even woebegone fellow with a world-weary expression, Jacobs saves his bravura for his work. The best of his clothes are marvelously understated and seemly – he proudly notes, at one point, that he has dressed celebrities like Winona Ryder for their appearances in court.
Jacobs has a wilder side as well, which is displayed in the freaky theatricality of his shows, and it’s here that the film really comes to life. Coppola shows us the range of his inspiration, from The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant to Diana Ross to Hello, Dolly, but his visions transcend mere runway shows, presenting his coherent, sensible fashion with the irrational intensity of dreams. In the 2024 show we see in Marc by Sofia, the models, under preposterously huge cotton-candy wigs and deliberately clumpy eye makeup, parade beneath sculptor Robert Therrien’s oversized folding chairs and table, to a sad, repetitive piano theme.
Jacobs notes at one point that he would like to be a theatre director. Mission accomplished.
