The Typography of Alienation
A look at the subversive design of ‘The Alienist’
If you’re unfamiliar with The Alienist it is a period drama and murder mystery set in 1896 New York City. Based on the novel of the same name.
I’ll confess I’m quite late to this one. Even so, I was surprised to be unable to find any other writing on the topic of the show’s typography.
It first came to my notice when it came out in January 2018, with the marketing campaign that often paired the excellent cast with the logo.
I mean, I really noticed it.
To be perfectly honest, I was rather put off by it. (Yes yes I’m aware of judging the proverbial book by its cover here but we designers are a fickle bunch.)
Apart from being a designer, I’m a fan of period dramas. My watch-lists consist almost exclusively of historical fiction with the exception of sci-fi. So I’m familiar with the typographic tropes and trends.
So I was very confused when I saw this show which was clearly a period piece with a logotype that was seemingly an anachronism? Tracked out in a modern sans-serif on a curved baseline—all tropes of a science fiction logo? Take SYFY’s The Expanse for example.
It wasn’t even like a period appropriate grotesk that existed at the time, it’s way too modern. I didn’t like it one bit. In fact, it instilled such a negative reaction as to put me off of the show altogether. A bit dramatic I admit, but I took it as an indication that some executive who wanted the show to attract a wider audience or something had made the call.
I also firmly believe that a would-be viewer—designer or not—should be able to see the logotype for a show and be able to tell what genre it is, what period it’s set in, etc. That goes for all media, be it books or movies, etc. Surely this was the mark of an effective logo?
It wasn’t till many months later that I finally put my designer indiscretions aside gave the show a chance. Like I said I like a good period drama and I’d heard from a trusted source that it was historically authentic in its depiction of New York City. I was intrigued.
The show is beautiful to look at. the costuming is superb, the actors are excellent, and the locations while not actually shot in New York City were recreated quite effectively.
I still had the type nerd in me whispering in the back of my mind but I’d shut him out (mostly) when I sat down to watch it and saw the opening line for the first time:
Had to keep my inner type nerd from ruining my experience of the show.
This was actually a really cool bit of history and subject to explore, and I wanted to enjoy it. Instead, having the logo be set in an italic sans was distracting me far too much. It was a travesty after all. It is a show set in the early 1900’s so surely it should be set in beautiful serif or poster grotesk?
“How could they make such a grievous mistake?” I thought to myself.
The woes of being a graphic designer.
The pilot episode lacks a title sequence (in the interest of time I imagine) so I didn’t get to see it—but I’ll come back to that.
It isn’t until you finish the first episode that there is a realization; an epiphany if you will.
Clearly, this show’s art direction is devoted to portraying the time period accurately, as I mentioned before the historical details are well done, so why did the logo clash so much with the aesthetic?
Unless it was a conscious decision.
Then it hit me: It ties back conceptually to the title of the show and the opening line before each episode.
The Logotype is alienated from the show’s given nature; alienated from the given time-period and genre.
Well played.
This is breaking every genre rule, on purpose.
Though I began with disposing the type and thinking it an ignorant mistake, I now found myself praising the direction and the designer.
I continued watching to confirm.
In the second episode I was finally treated to the beautiful opening titles designed by Elastic. (They did Westworld’s opening titles as well, one of the most iconic in recent memory.)
Turns out my theory was further confirmed by the use of typography in the opening credits. Actor’s names were set half in serif and half in sans-serif, indicative of a fractured state of mind. A duality of two natures.
I applaud the designer, art director, or whomever it was that made the decision to explore the themes of the show in such a typographic manner.
It’s a reminder that sometimes breaking the rules and subverting genre expectations in design can be quite effective (even if most viewers will never notice.)
Who’s to say what a logo’s true nature—or our own for that matter—should be anyway?
