There has always been and always will be a fascination with those at the top. Regardless of the industry, there is an insatiable appetite for an "inside" look.
It is this tendency that allows shows like MTV Cribs to be on the air for 16 seasons and documentary filmmakers like R.J. Cutler to walk into the office of Vogue magazine with an HD camera and produce a major motion picture.
In making The September Issue, Cutler and his crew went into the "fashion bible's" Times Square headquarters hoping to catch a glimpse of the notorious Anna Wintour who was dramatized so skillfully in The Devil Wears Prada.
Unlike its counterpart, however, The September Issue is a documentary and in the place of Meryl Streep is her real life counterpart, Anna Wintour.
Unfortunately, he came away with no footage of Miranda Priestly's rudeness, cruelty or emotional depth.
"Just because you wear something from Kmart doesn't mean you're a dumb person," Wintour remarks in a less caustic and more understanding moment. Cutler's film will only perpetuate the image of his protagonist as the "ice queen."
As the title suggests, the film's course follows the production of the magazine's longest issue in its 117-year history. Not only was it Vogue's longest issue, but it was also the largest issue of a magazine ever; its 840 pages weighed in at five pounds.
The camera follows all the major players in the production of the magazine, from the publisher to the stylists to the editors and of course to Anna, the dictator. The camera allows the viewer to be privy to behind-the-scenes fashion life, from inside the walls of Vogue to Fashion Week in Europe.
As a National Geographic-style documentary, The September Issue succeeds. Although Cutler does not manage to illuminate much from below the surface, he still captures the dynamic of the office: Anna is always right. The editor-in-chief has final say on every decision and no one dares to second-guess her (at least to her face).
Wintour sits down before the camera on a number of occasions, only to disarm Cutler's questions with grace and brevity.
Lacking the human element that one can imagine Cutler was searching for, his film latches onto a new narrative, the "conflict" between Wintour and Vogue creative director, Grace Coddington.
Both came to American Vogue in 1988, Wintour as editor-in-chief, and Coddington as Fashion Director.
After more than twenty years together at the magazine, the two do not always agree. However, when push comes to shove, it is Anna that has final say.
Coddington, the frizzy redhead often sitting on Wintour's right at Fashion Week, is understandably peeved when her longtime boss "pulls" the photos that she orchestrated time after time.
In what seems like a desperate move to create drama, the middle part of the film focuses on the drawing board where the magazine is laid out, photo by photo.
After we see Coddington express her absolute love for a certain set of photos, we see Wintour casually peruse the board pulling the very same photos without thinking twice. Coddington candidly expresses her frustration and anger, while Wintour never looks back.
For a documentary profile to succeed, it must have some human element; it must uncover some emotion or struggle. Cutler understands this, so he created one from nothing.
If only Wintour were as open before the camera as her creative director, this film would have accomplished its mission. However, the film's fatal flaw is exactly what makes it so intriguing in the first place.
