V&A's costume exhibit is fun, but is it culture?

As a museum of decorative arts, the Victoria and Albert Museum is the most obviously populist of London's big cultural institutions.  After all, almost everything in its walls ... though now considered art ... was once hip, trendy and fashionable.  This can get the V&A into trouble with critics, who wonder if shows rooted in modern culture are worthy of artistic examination, or a blatant commercial bid to raise some quick cash.

It was, I'll admit, the question on my mind after 15 minutes in the current Hollywood Costume exhibit.  There's no question it's fun.  But it felt more like something decorating the margins of a queue leading up to a ride at Universal Studios than a major exhibition.  I ogled, I sighed, I smiled ... but did I learn anything?  Did I come to a wider understanding of why costume is an art, and how it changes our world?

A little, but not as much as I'd hoped.

There were bits about the costume designer's thought process.  There was a particularly fascinating demonstration of the subtleties of black and white film making, showing how a bright red sequinned dress worked magic because of the way it played with shades of grey.  Another section grouped together a whole series of costumes worn by Meryl Streep and Al DeNiro in different roles, demonstrating how the right clothes help transform one person into many.

But mainly, it was just a chance to walk through the fantasy land of your favourite films.  And on this front, nobody could be disappointed, as the collection of more than 100 outfits had many of the most iconic costumes of all time.  Indiana Jones.  Darth Vader.  Guinevere's wedding dress from Camelot.  Jack Sparrow.  Dorothy.  (Ruby slippers re-created.  I didn't think the Smithsonian would let go of those.) John Wayne's cowboy kit.  Most of the main super heroes.  And on.  It was vastly entertaining.

I don't criticise the V&A for hosting.  Films are the art of our time, and costumes are a big part of that.  Lord knows, it brought in the cash during a mostly sold-out run, cash that can be used for less popular but equally important stuff.  I do think that in this case, however, a commercial enterprise might have done a better job.

Put it in an exhibition hall.  Pump up the glitz and glamour.  Entertain us more.  Spread it out and put more of the information in places we can see it.  (Each costume in this phenomenally crowded exhibition only had a short paragraph of descriptive copy, positioned at waist height, so you had to push through crowds to see it.)  Forgetting even the pretence of taking this seriously would have made it better, I think.

At the end of the day I indeed felt like I'd been to Hollywood ... but not like I'd been to the V&A.