The New Look Paints a Complex and Fascinating Portrait of Christian Dior and Coco Chanel

The 1940s continue to be a ripe source of inspiration for television, with Apple TV+ launching not one but two limited series set during WWII within a few weeks of each other. Don’t worry; this isn’t a sign the streamer is getting stale, as beyond the era and equally lavish productions, there isn’t much overlap between aerial combat in Masters of the Air and Nazi-Occupied France in The New Look.

The latter explores how figureheads and soon-to-be leaders of haute couture navigate the demand for high fashion during the Occupation and post-liberation years. Reputation is everything, and the series from Todd A. Kessler digs deep into the compromises and contradictions of this turbulent period that saw Paris reclaim its vibrant fashion crown. While creativity is central to the narrative, The New Look is a deft portrayal of family, sacrifice, and the lengths people go when the world is on fire.

Central to The New Look is the notion that “creation was survival.” The premiere opens in 1955 with Christian Dior (Ben Mendelsohn) delivering a lecture at the Sorbonne's Grand Amphithéâtre in Paris and a stunning retrospective runway show featuring post-war gamechanger the Bar Suit. Dior was the first fashion designer in the 700-year history of the university to speak at the academic institution, and shooting at the actual location speaks to the rich and immersive visuals. From the jump, it is evident that costume designer Karen Muller Serreau and production designer Anne Seibel mean business, but this is far from a sartorial retrospective or a simple case of imitation.

How Christian overcame shyness and harnessed his ambition unfolds over 10 episodes, charting his rise alongside Coco Chanel’s (Juliette Binoche) complicated fall from grace. Certain story beats are expected, but plenty of surprises along the way give the compelling historical drama momentum. Easy answers aren’t offered in the desperate fog of war, and no one is let off the hook — though Coco’s unsavory comments and dubious actions make her easier to point fingers at.

Anyone wondering how frivolous The New Look is will quickly get an idea from the opening credits, mixing archival footage and illustrations of blood and thread, war machinery, and stitches before switching to floral visuals that dominate Dior’s work. An intense orchestral theme music taps into the fraught landscape, contrasting ethereal performances featuring artists like Florence Welch, Nick Cave, Lana Del Rey, and Perfume Genius. Considering the overall aesthetic evokes the period without falling into the sepia-adjacent tones, it might be ill-judged to throw current musicians singing old songs like “La Vie en Rose” in the mix. Yet, keeping this element to the closing credits avoids a muddled message.

It is an ambitious undertaking to capture the mood of the city with so many different factions at play, and Paris is shown in its heightened state, where bitchy rivalries still thrive alongside debating the ethics of designing dresses for the wives and girlfriends of Nazis. Fluid camera movement and the repetition of framing staircases and doorways further add to the tension in an environment of moral ambiguity and feeling trapped in a cage. Chanel closes her atelier, and Lucien Lelong (John Malkovich) keeps his fashion house open, taking commissions no matter what uniform someone wears.

Mendelsohn plays Christian with the entire weight of the world on his shoulders, embodying his belief in a foreboding prediction made by a fortune teller years ago through a world-weary physicality. He restricts his mannerisms, delivering a sincere, quiet performance that lingers in the memory. The designer might read as passive on the surface, but this restrained emotion mesmerizes and makes rare ornery reactions hit harder. The reliance on the clairvoyant Madam Delahaye (Darina Al Joundi) as a guide and stabilizing force is based on truth, speaking to the designer looking to the mystical for a semblance of control. The series snaps into focus as all the pieces come together, and the second half hits an impressive stride.

Christian’s terror is bone-deep, but when it comes to his sister Catherine (Maisie Williams) — 12 years his junior — his fears are warranted as she is an active member of the French Resistance, to whom he gives money. The sibling dynamic provides the series with its beating heart, showcasing Williams as a dynamic force oscillating between bravery and doubt. Hope and desperation swirl for the Dior siblings, and it is through Catherine that Christian can be vulnerable. While Mendelsohn’s portrayal is mainly reserved, there is plenty of room for expression at work and the restaurant he frequents with fellow designers Pierre Balmain (Thomas Poitevin) and Cristóbal Balenciaga (Nuno Lopes). It is also where Christian’s boyfriend works, and Kessler captures fleeting moments of joy and freedom within a city trapped in fear.

Despite her name recognition, a boys' club mentality positions Coco as an outsider. Still, her romantic relationship with Nazi intelligence officer Hans “Spatz” von Dincklage (Claes Bang) leads to eyebrow-raising complicity — every time she uses a telephone is a reminder. Binoche is a force as the unapologetic designer, shedding light on Coco’s motives without softening her spiky edges. Like Christian, family is at the heart of her choices, but various unpleasant and self-serving actions are harder to parse. This thorny side makes the series stand out because it isn’t trying to rehabilitate or excuse it — it also makes it a challenging watch. Scene-stealing Emily Mortimer as Elsa Lombardi (a composite of Vera Lombardi and Misia Sert) is a perfect foil for Coco in provoking her anger and tenderness. Meanwhile, Bang is equally terrifying and charming, proving once again why he is a go-to villain on Apple TV+ shows.

After Paris is liberated, Coco reflects on how many women face humiliating public retribution for collaborating with Nazis. The hypocrisy is impossible to ignore, but this reads as dialogue framed through contemporary eyes, and The New Look can’t help spoon-feeding specific ideas. Some of this is helpful to an audience not necessarily versed in high fashion terms and faces, while also keeping ambiguity in certain conclusions. It is easy for a viewer to condemn Chanel for her tactics, but Kessler’s fondness for complex and even unrepentant figures (like Mendelsohn as Danny Rayburn in Bloodline) makes this a fascinating exploration. In Damages, Patty Hewes (Glenn Close) is an (albeit fictional) “difficult” figure, and The New Look reunites Kessler with Close as Harper’s Bazaar editor-in-chief, Carmel Snow, who comes to Paris looking for a visionary to bring fashion out of the doldrums, delivering gravitas.

Even when occasional visuals and dialogue err on the side of unsubtle, it is impossible not to get teary-eyed by the contrasting theatrics and intimate bonds depicted in the aftermath of such horror. Nearly 80 years later, Dior’s groundbreaking debut collection still generates fantasy-inducing awe, yet The New Look understands that grounded family ties make this story of resilience bloom.

The New Look premieres February 14 on Apple TV+ with three episodes. Join the discussion about the show in our forums. 

Emma Fraser has wanted to write about TV since she first watched My So-Called Life in the mid-90s, finally getting her wish over a decade later. Follow her on Twitter at @frazbelina.