A film lover’s guide to fragrance

Scent and screen has previously crossed paths, but only very briefly. For the 1960-movie Scent of Mystery, Hans Laube invented the one-hit-wonder Smell-O-Vision, that would release odours into the cinema on specific times of the film, so the viewer could ‘smell’ the movie. John Waters tried it on with a scratch-n-sniff ‘odorama’ for his 1981 movie Polyester. Since then, the cinema has largely been dominated by the smell of popcorn, and popcorn alone. However, fragrance sometimes appear in front of the camera, used by actors to get into character, while perfume bottles on the screen might serve as a tool for the viewer to get a deeper understanding of the character’s psyche. Instead of giving the Smell-O-Vision a comeback, we have imagined what perfumes our favourite characters would wear, if we could smell our way through Sean Baker’s Anora, Mary Harron’s American Psycho or Ingmar Bergman’s Scenes from a Marriage.

Notes: Bubble gum, fruity vapes, overdose of jasmine, paper dollars  

In this Palm d’Or-winning movie, we follow 23-year old Anora, a Russian-American, vape-smoking, bubblegum-chewing exotic dancer. She works at the New York club Headquarters, where she meets Vanya, the reckless, ultra-rich son of a Russian oligarch, with whom she enters a dramatic and short-lived marriage, a fairytale that ends as abruptly as it begins. It is a movie about escapism, and I imagine Anora would wear a fragrance like Jasmine OD from Heeley: an intense and seductive floral, an overdose of jasmine and tuberose, that would suit the nocturnal allure of the club where she works. If you look away from the jasmine, however, the fragrance also smells of sweet bubblegum, nostalgic and chemical, chewed for hours in between kisses. In fact, the perfume was initially named Bubblegum Chic, but based on marketing purposes, the brand changed its name in recent years. Just as Anora prefers to go by Ani—not Anora—it is a scent that holds both the fantasy and the mundane, night blooms and artifice. Depends on how you look at it.

Notes: lavender, rosemary, pineapple and citrusy cleaning products

What scent would Patrick Bateman wear? A psychopath and a perfectionist on Wall Street at the turn of the millennium, he would analyse his fragrance down to the tiniest scent molecule, from the designer’s name to the bottle design and the way the notes express a perfect balance between control and coolness. In the book from 1991, written by Bret Easton Ellis, Bateman wears Fine Cologne by Paul Sebastian, a musky lavender with a warm base of amber, like a shield of demure to balance out his intense presence. In the movie from 2000, however, the character wears Yves Saint Laurent Pour Homme, a rather fresh and aromatic fragrance in a blank bottle with a red cap. It is a scent so citrusy on the verge of becoming a cleaning product, but I guess that fits in with how he removes blood stains from the walls of his spotless penthouse. Now that Luca Guadagnino is set to make a new version of the movie, I imagine him wearing Creed Aventus, the ultimate big ego scent of our time. With notes of pineapple, patchouli and pink pepper, it oozes of a sexy confidence of a dark age, and somebody you don’t want to get too close to.

Notes: bar soap, french fries, disinfectant and lily-of-the-valley

Looking up the notes of President (ugh) Trump’s own perfume Victory Cologne President Trump I’m initially surprised to find that the fragrance—in a gold bottle with a matching cap shaped like his head—doesn’t smell heavily of oud and leather, and instead is a fresh and clean fragrance with notes of basil, mint and cucumber. But at the same time, what did I expect? In Ali Abbasi’s The Apprentice, we watch a young Trump, played by Sebastian Stan, as he compulsively and aggressively washes his hands in the bathroom with such intensity that the bar soap eventually shoots out of his hands. As a man who is afraid of germs, abstains from alcohol, and likely has the tastebuds of a child, he likely smells of Dove bar soap combined with a slight, pungent smell from his anaemic diet, and the residue of the cucumber cologne he sprayed on in the morning. Meanwhile his wife Melania, a Slovenian 1980s babe, wants to wear something classy and rich-smelling like Yves Saint Laurent’s Opium, but has to settle three steps down with something her husband will tolerate, such as the grandma-like soapy floral of Anaïs Anaïs from Cacharel.

Notes: pomegranate cologne, method toothpaste, dry grass, peaches, sun-kissed sweat

This queer love-story directed by Luca Guadagnino, set in Northern-Italy during the summer of 1983 should probably smell like tall, dry grass, dips in the pool and overly ripe peaches. I also imagine it smelling like Santa Maria Novella’s cologne Melograno, like a fragrance lingering in the air throughout the movie. It would be the cologne left in Oliver’s (Armie Hammer) sheets and shirts, picked up on by Elio (Timothée Chalamet) as he sneaks into his room, and the scent Elio seeks as a memory when Oliver leaves. It is sweet, fresh and slightly bitter, classic yet abundant, and a bottle full of historical knowledge (the perfume house was founded by a monastery in Florence in 1221), matching the character’s archeological pursuits. Elio, on the other hand, still considered too young to own a fragrance, would smell of strong menthol toothpaste and Diptyque’s Citronelle and Geranium spray, an innocent, sweet cologne disguised as a fancy bug-spray, smelling nostalgically of summers one never wish would end.

Notes: Cherry Blossom, gardenia, woody notes, whiskey, chlorine

To translate the mood of the movie into a scent, it would be something underlying, unable to point out exactly what it is. The scent would be, as the title indicated, lost in the pursuit of capturing it, and instead acting like ghostly presence, an unknown that sometimes is nice to disappear into. The lingering scent of chlorine after a swim in the Grand Hyatt pool, or the distinct smell of a taxi through a neon city. Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) would smell of the cherry trees in bloom, mixed with Daisy from Marc Jacobs, a girly, fruity floral fragrance which the director once was the face of, and seeing herself in her main character, she passes it on. The former movie star Bob Harris (Bill Murray) wears some gifted fragrance, too. Dior Fahrenheit—something absent-mindedly masculine that his wife gave him for his birthday—a bit off and too much spice for his character. But then he hasn’t been entirely himself lately. It mixes well with the whiskey he promotes and surprisingly well with the iced tea they serve him on set in lieu for the liquor, too.

Notes: rose, patchouli, leather, pine, urine

In one of her best performances, Isabella Huppert plays Erika Kohut, the talented, Austrian piano teacher who lives a restricted life together with her old mother. The daughter’s escapes becomes voyeuristic kinks, self harm, expensive dresses and other kinds of transgression — all kept from her mother’s tight iron grip. Just like Erika shares a bed with her controlling mother, they would also share a bottle of Clinique Aromatics Elixir –a balsamic fragrance in a frosted bottle, only used on very special occasions and therefore it has expired a long time ago — and it smells like it, too. In Erika’s bag, however, hidden among sheets of musical notes, she keeps a secret bottle of Portrait of a Lady by Frederic Malle. Dramatic and alluring, with notes of rose, blackcurrant, patchouli and amber, it’s the fragrance of the woman she wants to be, expressing all of her deepest desires with force and longevity. When she falls in love with her student Walter Klemmer, 20 years her junior, she embarks on an affair that will hurt both her heart and her pride. Klemmer, doesn’t understand Erika. He is just a big boy, sees Erika as any competition to be conquered and won, and wears Polo Sport by Ralph Lauren, just like the rest of the guys on his hockey team.

Notes: manly sweat, sheepskin, dirt, bonfire, honeysuckle, red roses, wool

The movie, directed by Alice Rohrwacher, opens with a scene with Josh O’Connor’s scruffy character Arthur on a train through Italy, where it soon becomes apparent he hasn’t showered in ages. Offended, he is given a pair of new socks from a traveling salesman, free of charge, yet the strong, manly body odour is never entirely replaced, as he continues to wear the same not-so-white linen suit throughout the movie. Instead, it is supplemented by the smell of a sheepskin’s coat, the dirt and dust and dry leaves from digging up old graves, looking for old treasures, and the occasional bonfires and endless cigarettes. At some point, there is a mild, goofy touch of Italia’s (Carol Duarte) Santa Maria Novella Caprifoglio cologne, dancing with her on the polluted beach or falling asleep next to her, while making sure he is long gone by the next morning. Meanwhile, Arthur is always seeking, longing for Beniamina, a girlfriend who disappeared a long time ago and appears in his dreams, and in her spare shots, we can all imagine her smelling like the pine, incense and leaves of Trudon’s Deux, a fresh, green cologne which smells like a bewildered search through a forest, finding paradise.

Notes: lily-of-the-valley, patchouli, aftershave, cigarettes, vetiver

This classic love drama directed by Ingmar Bergman is about the constant push and pull that makes love impossible and inevitable. The so-called perfect marriage between marriage lawyer Marianne (Liv Ullmann) and therapist Johan (Erland Josephson) ends abruptly as Johan leaves his wife and children for a student of his. At first, Marianne seems like a submissive, traditional woman, serving the family above her own needs. She wears Water Lily by Perfumer H, a refreshing and green floral that doesn’t become too overpowering, and transports her to her modest luxury of days at their Fårö summerhouse. Her husband, a chain-smoking therapist and scientist, is a determined yet conflicted character, looking for happiness elsewhere, wears Terre d’Hermes. It is fresh yet warm and woody, and sustains his dreams about a different life. As Marianne eventually moves on with her life, and Sweden enters into the feminist liberation of the late 60s, she begins wearing Tempo by Diptyque, a bold and freeing fragrance with patchouli and violet. Johan, becoming increasingly apprehensive about his character and life choices, starts a new chapter with a fragrance less serious, and more free. He wears Vetyverio from Diptyque, a green, fruity and earthy fragrance—from the same brand as his ex-wife, and forever lover. 

Notes: Tuberose, Ellnett, petrol, Dom Perignon 1952, Suede

What movie better captures luxury, excess and pleasure—and the emptiness that follows— than Fellini’s classic La Dolce Vita? Set in a decadent world of postwar Rome, free from worries, duties, and sometimes meaning, too, the good life would smell of a myriad of big personalities and expensive fragrances, until they all null each other out. Sylvia, the Swedish superstart played by Anita Ekberg, would wear Animalique from Byredo, a musky suede that is explosive and sensual in equal parts, combined with an halo of Ellnett hairspray. She is the star of the show, and she knows it. Marcello, a lazy journalist who just wants a piece of the socialites in the city, and almost gets a kiss from Ekberg in the Trevi Fountain, wears Bigarade Concentré from Frederic Malle, a simplistic, refined cologne, easy-going yet ready to impress those who know. It is an expensive fragrance, and out of sync with his pay checks—but isn’t that the transformative power of fragrance? Marcello’s other date, Maddalena, a more secretive woman of the city’s upper classes, wears Carnal Flower, also from Frederic Malle – an evocative and sensual tuberose with a hint of coconut. The fragrance holds something more mysterious, almost gothic about it. Next time you watch the scene where they run around big the castle with Nico, among others (who, buy the way, would smell of Stora Skuggan’s Hexensable), imagine spotting traces of her bitter, green tuberose along the cold stone walls.