SCÈNE 01. Jenna Elizabeth Gonzalez, Filmmaker
When the chips are down, a skirt suit remains a cri de coeur.
Welcome to the first edition of Mise-En-Scène, a newsletter exploring mise-en-scène that has made an impact—aesthetically or otherwise—on interesting people who love to watch.
And just what is mise-en-scène, you ask? (NYU Tisch graduates, feel free to keep scrolling…) Mise-en-scène is the arrangement of scenery, props, costumes, and even the actors on the stage of a theatrical production or on the set of a television program or film. In short, mise-en-scène is everything a storyteller chooses to include in the frame.
A BRIEF INTRODUCTION AND OUR RAISON D’ETRE.
Because this newsletter is not about me, this section will be a one-time limited engagement for this, the occasion of our grand Substack debut. Plus, context is queen:
My name is Natalie (Nat) Guevara and I’m a 37-year-old woman now living in the Dominican Republic after formative years spent in New York and Miami. While my brain and good sense are responsible for my career in strategic communications, my heart is the driving force behind my obsession with both high art and low culture. (And I’m talking low-low; I recently cried rewatching Jaws 2.)
Fifteen years back, when I was a hopeless young rube grasping at some semblance of indie-sleaze cool, a powerful legacy clairvoyant told little ol’ me, all flat-ironed side bangs and American Apparel tri-blend, that I’d evolve to become a sophisticated storyteller. He said that stories will always be a life force for me, and advised me to always trust in my interests and follow my nose. (Dear clairvoyant, now in Heaven: By “sophisticated storyteller,” I admit I envisioned growing up to be someone like Noël Coward, but I suppose “corporate fixer” works just as well. And, mercifully, I wear chic turtlenecks now.)
He had a point with the stories-as-life force observation: I’ve been blessed-cursed with a steel-trap memory, and so stuff from movies, TV, theatre, books, music—in sum, The Arts—is always thrashing around in my inner spin-cycle. Mise-en-scène is about intention—what a storyteller chooses to put in their frame has levels, honey. These little details make a big impression on me. They fill me with genuine curiosity and even something like hope.
The Tao of John Waters has taught me that life is nothing if you’re not obsessed. Inelegantly put, that’s why this newsletter exists. I want to create a conversational space where we plunge into cultural rabbit holes, and I want to burrow in there for a while (or at least for a week, until the next edition hits your inbox). If even one of these Substack missives is responsible for a blast of open tabs across your screen, I’ll consider it a triumph!
Because most things are better in good company: I delight in interesting people excavating their rangy tastes and surprising cultural fixations. What is the mise-en-scène that lives rent-free in their heads? How do these cultural tableaus root in their consciousness and become indelible touchstones for them, and what do these scènes reveal about their motivations, fears, aspirations and ambitions? Lucky for me, and for you, my observing, absorbing Mise-En-Scène community, I love putting people on the spot and having them go off!
Preamble over. Now for the main event. Keep scrolling.
“THE MYSTERY OF NUMBERS AND CHANCE”: FILMMAKER JENNA ELIZABETH GONZALEZ ON JACQUES DEMY’S BAY OF ANGELS (LA BAIE DES ANGES), 1963
Jenna Elizabeth Gonzalez (@jennaelizabethstudio) is a filmmaker celebrated for her sleek, soulful short films across the fashion and music realms and her high-octane commercial work with the multidisciplinary creative firm Special Operations Studios. She’s currently mounting her first feature film.
A fan of Stanley Kubrick, Richie Havens, and Josephine Premice, to name the iceberg-tip of her influences, Jenna is someone with whom I’ve always felt simpatico given her infectious enthusiasm over the stirring cultural works she loves and the complicated artists behind them. At once impeccably polished and down-home approachable, Jenna has a purity of spirit that is winning. She is cultivated in every sense of the word: self-possessed, intriguing, and expressive in her style and tastes. Add to that: Nostalgic! I knew she’d be the perfect person to feature in this newsletter’s coming-out party. She’s deft at setting a tone.
Up ahead, Jenna with her Mise-En-Scène pick: The opening tracking shot from Jacques Demy’s 1963 folie à deux, Bay of Angels (La Baie des anges). Demy’s second-ever feature, it stars Jeanne Moreau and Claude Mann, with—this is important!—Moreau’s costumes and wardrobe designed by her dear friend and erstwhile lover, Pierre Cardin. Bay of Angels marked the French New Wave auteur’s last black-and-white film before he exploded into a Technicolor tribute a year later with The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. Without further ado, here’s Jenna1.
JENNA ON HOW SHE FIRST CAME ACROSS BAY OF ANGELS:
Compulsive film poster stumble meets Criterion deep dive. Obnoxious, I know! I'll see myself out.
JENNA ON THE FILM’S OPENING TRACKING SHOT AND JEANNE MOREAU’S WHITE SKIRT SUIT:
Since I was a teenager, I've been obsessed with this idea of fashion as survival.
Clothing is so much more than clothing. Of course, there are the trite answers of clothing being used as armor, etc. But clothing, in many respects, is about access. It is about being able to exit or enter a room with as much invisibility or power as you want made available to you. It can be about social cues just as much as it is artistic construction.
In Bay of Angels, Moreau plays a compulsive gambler. Throughout the film, you see her win everything, lose everything—but no matter what, her suit becomes this baseline of entry to play. Her hair is coiffed like Monroe's; more than just a style trend, it reeks of artifice in the best way possible.
At the peak of her gambles, the clothing gets more and more striking and flamboyant. When her luck crashes, she sells her belongings and she's back to the skirt suit. Seeing this ensemble juxtaposed against the sand of the French Riviera is so striking, misaligned and jarring—but it is emblematic of her determination, albeit met with a certain level of delusion. Depending on how you look at it, her suit becomes an act of hope—the final chip to play with.
JENNA ON THE SIGNIFICANCE OF COSTUME DESIGN:
I'm currently working on my first feature, and I keep coming back to the film’s ending for inspiration. I'd really love to champion costume designers in my work and celebrate them as household names as much as great composers. Particularly, Jen Starzyk's refreshing take on period with Mindhunter (2017-2019) and the just-released The Iron Claw (2023); Bina Daigeler's ferocious taste as seen in Tár (2022); and Avery Plewes challenging rape tropes in horror with Scream VI (2023).
It’s Nat again. Unlike Jacques Demy, I’ve never been skilled at the fadeout. Before we officially call curtains on this first edition of Mise-En-Scène, and as befits this Christmastime, here are a few more of Jenna’s favorite things to send us off in style. (I know what you’re thinking, but no, this is not my slick attempt at affiliate links; I genuinely love spreading the gospel about life-enhancing delights, for the public good!)
JENNA ELIZABETH GONZALEZ RECOMMENDS
Boozy Viennese hot chocolate from Café Sabarsky, tucked inside New York City’s the Neue Galerie.
Jenna says: This is something everyone must experience once before they die. Café Sabarsky’s wood-paneled walls, the drink’s perfect ratio of cream to chocolate, and the magic of the Upper East Side. Especially lovely during the holiday season, but a delight any time of the year. Also, the Neue Galerie’s gift shop has some beautiful eccentricities for when you're trying to find a memorable gift apart from shopping for your weird aunt.
Scented candles from BULY 1803, complete with scented matches.
Jenna says: A part of me doesn't want to disclose this in fear of over-surging these scents around town. But if you're going to do something, do it right—the marble base is such a move. I also highly recommend the scented matches; sometimes just a whiff of those while traveling is enough to bring you home without having to lug a candle around.The Holdovers Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (2023). Listen to the extended playlist on Spotify here.
Jenna says: Not often do you get the chance to bounce from Beethoven to Badfinger so easily. Also, because I am insane, I realized while watching the film that two songs which appear consecutively—Badfinger’s "No Matter What" and Tony Orlando & Dawn’s "Knock Three Times"—also appear in the movie Now and Then (1995). (Nat’s note: I was also taken aback by this sonic one-two punch during my own viewing of The Holdovers. Some things are just in your bones, and, for a wide swath of Millennial women, the soundtrack to Now and Then is one such primordial thing.)Meryl Streep in The Hours (2002) doll.
Jenna says: I'm a bit of a doll collector, and recently I found this insane doll of Meryl Streep in The Hours. It's truly beyond, and its level of appreciation is now my official litmus test with people deserving to be in my life.Princess the band.
Jenna says: In an era of overly staged perfection and canned choreography, this concert entered my life and reset everything. Their show will put you in THE MOMENT. Which, these days, is so rare. It was the most pure thing I've experienced in two years. If you aren't familiar, this is Maya Rudolph's Prince cover band—and if this doesn't tell you everything, everything—Prince himself officially gave his blessing for this band's existence.
Bask in Jenna’s good taste, and then cozy up to Jeanne Moreau’s bottle-blonde strands and pristine skirt suit: Bay of Angels is currently streaming on The Criterion Channel. (You can also catch it for free here, but shhh… Living abroad, sometimes I must get scrappy with the VPN. Again, this is my pro bono!)
Thank you for taking in this first edition of Mise-En-Scène. I hope your tabs are a mess. You can follow Jenna Elizabeth Gonzalez and her adventures in film, filmmaking, and general cultural appreciation at @jennaelizabethstudio.
If you celebrate, I’m wishing you a very Merry Christmas. And, even if you don’t, I hope you’re surrounded by a healthy family, jolly friends, good art, and better food.
We’ll meet back here after the holidays.
Lightly edited for clarity.