All of the makeup artists to date worked with what was referred to as out-of-the-kit techniques. Many film studios had a kind-of standard film makeup kit, and the creators of the makeup would pull out all the paints, lipsticks, unguents, waxes, shades, paints, and the like, and create what they could with these limited tools. Unless it was a big production like The Wizard of Oz, most studios worked with usual makeup tools. The silver makeup applied to Jack Haley, by the way, was so corrosive to his face, his cheeks would bleed. Buddy Ebsen was originally slated to play the Tin Woodsman, but the makeup was so uncomfortable, he had to quit.
It wouldn’t be until the 1940s that makeup would change from an out-of-the-kit system to more customizable ethos. Foam latex was introduced which was easier to apply, much more comfortable, and much more durable. A lot of the old guard, including Jack Pierce, preferred the old ways, and a lot of the classic makeup artists were muscled out of the studios and were forced to work in TV.
Strangely enough, The Academy did not recognize makeup artists for many years, and didn’t establish a makeup category until 1981. In 1968, there was a special exception for the awesome sci-fi film Planet of the Apes, which was another revolutionary step in film makeup. John Chambers invented the extensive ape makeup, which involved rubber appliances that were to be blended directly with an actor’s skin. This “blending” of appliances and flesh had not been done to such a scale before, and is, again, commonly used to this day. The ape makeup in Planet of the Apes is some of the best creature makeup you’ll ever see, as it allowed an interesting creature to grow from the face of an actual actor. John Chambers received an honorary Oscar for his work on this film. When it came time to remake the film in 2001, master monster maker Stan Winston was hired to make new ape makeup and, dare I say, it’s equally impressive.
Once the Oscar category was incorporated, Hollywood was already experiencing a boom in fantasy films (thank you Star Wars), and budgets began to grow large enough to make epic biopics. As such, makeup budget began to soar, liquid latex entered the fray, and makeup became modern and impressive and really, in my mind, reached its height. People like Rick Baker (winner of seven Oscars) and Stan Winston (nominated for three makeup Oscars) began making monsters for a whole new generation with films like An American Werewolf in London, and, uh, Heartbeeps. Makeup and wigs began to blend frequently with special effects, and filmmakers were making realistic monsters that they could actually film. CGI may have an unlimited scope of imagery, but actually making real monsters is always going to be more scary. They’re real, those monsters, and they have weight and life that CGI will never be able to replicate.
Age makeup advanced past merely drawing wrinkles on someone’s face into actual wrinkles that could be applied by skilled artists and technicians. When people could be convincingly turned into different ages, the option to let a single actor tell a whole life story became more of an opportunity, and soon we had films like The Color Purple or Amadeus to contend with, both great films that are only enhanced by their subtly and savvy makeup application, made by Ken Chase and Paul LeBlanc respectively. In 1986, film saw one of its most disgusting makeup jobs yet when Jeff Goldblum was coated in a full-bodied scablike crust to play a man who is slowly mutating into a giant insect in David Cronenberg’s The Fly, makeup by Chris Walas and Stephan DuPuis. Not only is The Fly a stirring and savvy sci-fi metaphor for disease (AIDS or cancer), but its makeup ensures that you’ll remember the truly revolting creature that the lead actor has become.
Although makeup has continued to advance, a lot of the basic techniques has remained the same. Indeed, I had the chance to interview a makeup artist on the upcoming film Curse of Chucky, and he revealed that on many smaller-budget films, the out-of-the-kit ethos is still firmly in place, and when it comes to making creatures or wounds, it’s fastest and easiest to use the mortician’s wax that was being used a hundred years ago. Makeup evolves and changes and becomes more advances in its application, but a lot of the techniques have remained comfortably constant. In 2010, universal remade their 1941 classic The Wolf Man, and Rick Baker and Dave Elsey managed to pull out all the stops and create an equally terrifying wolf for a new audience. The hair? Yak fur. Just like 50 years previous.
A quick note on gore. Blood and gore effects have always been a bold staple of the makeup universe, and nothing, in my mind, can mark the expertise of a makeup artist better than a well-made facial wound. Anything from the cheap blood effects of generations of grindhouses, all the way to sophisticated and realistic flesh damage done by modern horror masters, are all steeped in a grand tradition of excellent makeup. I could fill an essay with the masters of impressive gore effects, but I’ll point out some of the best wounds I’ve ever seen in a movie. In 2004, Keith VanderLaan and Christien Tinsley created the makeup effects for Mel Gibson’s film The Passion of the Christ, which was about, well, the Passion of the Christ. In terms of makeup, the film was two hours of Jesus having the everloving tar beaten out of him, using whips, maces, bats, hammers, and, yes nails. The creative blood and gore needed to create that scene really gave you the impression that you were watching a man being flayed and crucified to death. The Passion of the Christ is one of the more violent big-budget mainstream films out there, and while it did not win an Oscar (it lost to Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events, as the film’s subject matter was, naturally, a bit controversial), but I don’t think I’ve seen too much better blood outside of something like Evil Dead (2013).
We tend to see makeup, however, when it is showy and noticeable, as the various focuses of this lecture can possibly attest to. When you create an ape man or a werewolf or turn Anthony Hopkins into Alfred Hitchcock, audiences tend to notice the awesome transformations to take place. I do not want to forget the people who are constantly working every day on every film, doing much simpler but just as important things as making sure blemishes are covered, that actors have a consistent skin tone, and spend hours up hours of their lives fixing blemishes on the faces of hardworking actors. You can improve digital photography all you want. You can make the image clearer and clearer. You can come up with new lights and lighting techniques. But ultimately, you’re going to film a real-life person at some point, and you’re going to have to make sure they look just right. And who’s that over there with a kit and a keen eye for shiny cheek waiting to be covered? The makeup artist. Give them a quiet hand.
Homework for the Week:
Watch The Passion of the Christ, The Fly, An American Werewolf in London, Frankenstein, Planet of the Apes, or any other film that is notable for is effects makeup. Do the makeup jobs hold up? What makes those films better at makeup than others? What kind of creature makeup do you like? Why do you like it? When it comes to natural makeup effects, do you like a more realistic flesh-like tone, or a more heavily made-up glamor look? How does the makeup of an actor change depending on what kind of film they’re in?
Witney Seibold is a featured contributor on the CraveOnline Film Channel, co-host of The B-Movies Podcast and co-star of The Trailer Hitch. You can read his weekly articles B-Movies Extended, Free Film School and The Series Project, and follow him on “Twitter” at @WitneySeibold, where he is slowly losing his mind. If you want to buy him a gift (and I know you do), you can visit his Amazon Wish List.
