The rise and fall of the illustrated one-sheet | Little White Lies

Posters

The rise and fall of the illus­trat­ed one-sheet

22 May 2018

Words by Chris Heasman

Two men wearing hats and coats, one in the foreground and one in the background, against a warm orange and yellow background with a scenic landscape.
Two men wearing hats and coats, one in the foreground and one in the background, against a warm orange and yellow background with a scenic landscape.
As demand for more tra­di­tion­al movie art­work increas­es, we chart the his­to­ry of hand-drawn posters.

In 1895, French film pio­neers Auguste and Louis Lumière pre­miered a 45-sec­ond silent pic­ture called L’Arroseur Arrosé. It was a water­shed moment in cin­e­ma his­to­ry in more ways than one. Not only was this the first film with a fic­tion­al nar­ra­tive, and the first to por­tray slap­stick com­e­dy, it was also the sub­ject of the first ever film poster. It’s noth­ing elab­o­rate – just a small, gid­dy audi­ence watch­ing on as the pro­jec­tor beams a comedic scene onto the screen. It doesn’t even bear the name of the film. Nonethe­less, this ear­ly poster set a prece­dent for the way mov­ing pic­tures were mar­ket­ed to the pub­lic which still, in one form or anoth­er, exists today.

Back in April, Mar­vel Stu­dios released the lat­est one-sheet for Ant-Man and the Wasp. It’s a bold, brash explo­sion of big names, float­ing heads and elab­o­rate pat­terns. With­out want­i­ng to under­state things, it’s fair to say that L’Arroseur Arrosé doesn’t have much in com­mon with Ant-Man. Among the many dis­sim­i­lar­i­ties between the two posters, how­ev­er, per­haps the most strik­ing dif­fer­ence is that, where the lat­ter is a com­pos­ite of heav­i­ly-edit­ed pho­tographs of the film’s cast, the for­mer has been drawn and coloured entire­ly by hand.

And that’s how it always was, once upon a time. From the 19th cen­tu­ry until the tail end of the 20th, indi­vid­ual illus­tra­tors were large­ly respon­si­ble for lur­ing audi­ences into the cin­e­ma. The ear­li­est exam­ples, like L’Arroseur Arrosé, por­trayed scenes from the movies them­selves. Soon, with the advent of the movie star, posters began to plac­ing lead actors – the likes of Char­lie Chap­lins, Boris Karloff and the Marx broth­ers – front and cen­tre. As the indus­try grew, how­ev­er, artists began to take risks. By the 1950s and into the 60s, Hol­ly­wood pro­duc­ers and mar­keters began allow­ing for a more abstract form of expres­sion by artists, led by inno­va­tors such as Saul Bass (whose designs for Ver­ti­go and Anato­my of a Mur­der are among the most remark­able of the era).

Stark black silhouette of a body on a bright red background, with the title "The Preminger's Anatomy of a Murder" displayed prominently.

Undoubt­ed­ly, though, the Gold­en Age of Hol­ly­wood illus­tra­tion was the 70s and 80s. The artists who thrived in that peri­od cre­at­ed some of the most icon­ic posters in cin­e­ma his­to­ry: the late Bill Gold with A Clock­work Orange, Richard Amsel with Raiders of the Lost Ark, Bob Peak with Apoc­a­lypse Now, Drew Struzan with vir­tu­al­ly every­thing he turned his hand to. It was a time when the tools with which stu­dios sold their movies stood as much chance of last­ing through the ages as the movies did them­selves. They were art­works – painstak­ing­ly craft­ed, high­ly atmos­pher­ic and, aes­thet­i­cal­ly, noth­ing short of beautiful.

That all changed with the emer­gence of pho­to­graph­ic posters, which her­ald­ed a seis­mic change in the way movies were sold to the pub­lic. By the begin­ning of the 21st cen­tu­ry, many posters con­sist­ed of no more than a series of Pho­to­shopped images of var­i­ous cast mem­bers over­laid onto gener­ic back­drops. Soon enough, clichés began to appear. The well of cre­ativ­i­ty dried up. Occa­sion­al flash­es of bril­liance – such as Juras­sic Park or Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas – were becom­ing increas­ing­ly rare.

But why did the shift occur? Rory Kurtz, a Chica­go-based artist who has illus­trat­ed the offi­cial posters for a num­ber of recent releas­es, such as Baby Dri­verCap­tain Amer­i­ca: The First Avenger and Dri­ve, offers his take. It start­ed with the advent of video stores in the 80s, and the need that came with them to focus on big name actors to move home videos. And then pho­to edit­ing soft­ware evolved over the decades that fol­lowed, allow­ing all sorts of attrac­tive, pho­to-based possibilities.”

Accord­ing to poster design­er Dan Mum­ford, who has most recent­ly worked with Dis­ney, Mar­vel and DC, it was the need to adhere to bud­getary con­cerns and mass appeal that drove Hol­ly­wood towards pho­to­graph­ic posters. It was sim­ply the way things were done in the 1990s and ear­ly 2000s. Movie posters main­ly con­sist­ed of pho­tos and text. It was the look, and that was what appealed then.”

Jurassic Park film poster: Silhouette of a T-Rex against a red circular backdrop, surrounded by a yellow border.

As Hol­ly­wood entered a new cen­tu­ry, a new norm was swift­ly estab­lished. Pho­tog­ra­phy, which had made its use­ful­ness known dur­ing the 90s, became the go-to medi­um for poster design­ers. The rea­son movie posters have grad­u­al­ly become so for­mu­la­ic is the same rea­son stu­dios rarely hire illus­tra­tors who draw by hand: in a world where mar­ket­ing a film can cost hun­dreds of mil­lions of dol­lars, pro­duc­ing some­thing risky or inno­v­a­tive sim­ply isn’t nec­es­sary enough war­rant the cost and effort.

A great illus­trat­ed poster offers some­thing no pho­to­graph­ic col­lage can match. Accord­ing to Kurtz, hand-drawn illus­tra­tion can add a mood or a tex­ture that isn’t eas­i­ly accom­plished with pho­to edit­ing,” while even styl­is­tic and abstract posters can pick curios­i­ty the way lit­er­al pho­tog­ra­phy can’t.” Not that we should dis­miss the dig­i­tal poster entire­ly. As Kurtz explains, it’s just a mat­ter of pair­ing the right approach to the right film.” But even the most effec­tive pho­to­graph­ic posters (think Moon or The Mas­ter) hark back to the one-sheets of old.

Nos­tal­gia is undoubt­ed­ly a key fac­tor in the recent resur­gence of tra­di­tion­al illus­trat­ed posters. Many of the hand-drawn posters we see today are designed to evoke the past (which typ­i­cal­ly means the 1980s). Take a look at the pro­mo posters for Stranger Things, or the one-sheet for Ready Play­er One – they’re pure Struzan. In this sense, our shared nos­tal­gia for the past has done won­ders for the pen and pen­cil, even if it hasn’t dri­ven any real inno­va­tion as far as design goes. For that, we must look elsewhere.

Sleeping mermaid embracing fish-like creature, in dark blue-green underwater scene with foliage.

Accord­ing to Mum­ford, We now have this cul­ture of alter­na­tive posters, and col­lec­tors who spend huge amounts on items that exist in small edi­tions.” IMAX release alter­nate posters for Star Wars (designed by Mum­ford him­self); fan artists design min­i­mal­ist pieces for clas­sic films which become huge­ly pop­u­lar on the inter­net; Struzan even comes out of retire­ment to design a col­lec­tors’ piece for D23. Sud­den­ly, style is cool again – and Hol­ly­wood has tak­en notice.

James Jean’s recent posters for Moth­er! and The Shape of Water, Mum­ford adds, marked a new water­shed for the indus­try. These movie poster col­lec­tors and cre­ators got to see the sort of art­work they love up on the side of a bus or a bill­board. It was quite spe­cial, in a way, and the pos­i­tive impact of that is yet to be seen.” Tra­di­tion­al illus­tra­tion is final­ly see­ing a return to the main­stream, but while stu­dios have begun to recog­nise the last­ing impact that hand-drawn tech­niques can have on a film’s image, the future – and L’Arroseur Arrosé’s beau­ti­ful lega­cy – is far from assured.

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