Raf Simons, as seen in Dior and I (The Orchard)

The late designer and icon Christian Dior set a superb standard for lavish French couture in 1947. In the 2010s, a reserved menswear designer stands to launch his first collection for the House of Dior, carrying on its storied legacy while making a modern statement all his own. All in eight weeks. Can he pull it off?

That question is the focus of Frédéric Tcheng’s beautiful and unexpectedly moving Dior and I. Tcheng zeroes in on fashion and luxury, but his finely crafted film will appeal to anyone who appreciates simple pleasures: a challenge met, a job well done, and new bonds formed to create great things.

The movie establishes Dior’s classic fashion supremacy with gorgeous black-and-white images of the designer’s celebrated New Look and the pre-Twitter frenzy that accompanied it. Scenes of the balding, refined-looking Dior at work set a reflective mood.

Then the film cuts to modern times, where a slender, youngish man is introduced to Dior’s employees and entourage as the new head of the house. LVMH luxury goods magnate and Dior owner Louis Arnault appears effusive about the new hire, the hire less so. Who is this unsmiling newcomer? Raf Simons, who does not come from the world of couture, but from ready-to-wear. Greeting well-wishers, he seems reticent, even ill at ease. And on top of everything else, he’s a Flemish-speaking Belgian with shaky French. Perhaps an inauspicious start.

Getting close to Simons, Tcheng debunks fashion design stereotypes with a sure hand. How about the dreaded “imperious diva”? The low-key, reserved Simons is no diva, but he does possess a will of iron. We see him overcome diffidence to assert himself in Dior’s opulent surroundings. He demands innovation, insisting that fabric designers find new ways to duplicate the overlapping, winking colors inspired by artists Sterling Ruby and Gerhard Richter. He directs Dior’s highly skilled artisans to producing collections, rather than altering pieces for the firm’s big-money clients. And he’s not afraid to ask for the backing from LVMH to turn a run-down Paris mansion into a magnificent palace of flowers for his Fashion Week debut. Simons brings grit and ambition to everything he does.

What’s another cartoon image of the fashion designer? The lone mastermind, of course. Tcheng strips away that concept through the revealing access to Simons’ creative partners. In order to realize a demanding vision, Simons must strike a rapport with Dior’s artisans and seamstresses. Collaboration is key with this group, some of whom have been working at the house for 40 years. Tcheng and cinematographer Gilles Piquard capture striking scenes of the group cutting, sewing, basting, and flouncing in a very tight space, and many emerge as frank, forthright characters in their own right. More than just sewing chops, this group brings pride and intuition to the act of design.

Simons’ initial vibe with the sewing crew feels awkward. To smooth the way forward, he relies on Pieter Mulier, a multilingual right-hand man of great charm and savvy who seems at ease with himself and everyone else. Mulier solves problems for Simons, but he speaks his mind when the time is right—another reminder that artists rely on and work with others. Sous designers, publicists, salespeople, and accessories experts move in and out of the mix, kooky, haughty, and amusing. We are in the fashion world, after all.

Throughout the film, Tcheng intersperses black-and-white archival footage of Dior and voice-overs from his memoirs with modern-day images of Simons restlessly at work in the studio. It’s a risky artistic gesture that shouldn’t work, but succeeds. At first, we respond to Dior’s more sentimental, yearning take on couture, but Simons’ perseverance and slow growth toward openness wins us over.

Director of the Oscar-shortlisted Valentino: The Last Emperor, Tcheng is clearly in his element in the couture milieu. Smooth, limpid camerawork enhances the film’s deluxe feel. A savvy combination of original and pop music by the likes of Aphex Twin and the Knife heightens moods convincingly and effortlessly. Donatella Versace, Marc Jacobs, Jennifer Lawrence, Diane von Furstenburg, Sharon Stone, and, hauntingly, the late L’Wren Scott make appearances. Dior and I is a pleasure for sophisticates. Its story of hard-won victory should also be a hit with those who like to watch achievement unfold—and who like their leading men a little withholding and mysterious.