In 2011, film icon Debbie Reynolds reluctantly put her collection of Hollywood memorabilia on the market. It wasn’t any ordinary trove: amassed over 45 years and numbering in the thousands, it was unparalleled in range and historical value. Landing on the block at Profiles in History were screen-used artifacts from classic films, among them Charlie Chaplin’s iconic bowler hat, Elizabeth Taylor’s Cleopatra headdress, and Julie Andrews’s guitar from The Sound of Music. “I love them all,” Reynolds said at the time. “I just hope they all go to good homes.”

The auction’s spotlight, however, belonged to the pleated white dress Marilyn Monroe donned to walk across a subway grate in The Seven-Year Itch. Estimated to fetch in the region of $2 million, the lot eventually soared to $4.6 million, setting a record for a Monroe dress. Reynolds was reportedly in tears when the item sold; Joe Maddalena, then president and CEO of Profiles in History, was floored.

“That was when we crashed the glass ceiling,” he told me about the Reynolds auctions, which ran to three parts. “We did $32 million at a time when a normal auction probably did $1 million or $2 million. Her collection was the best of the best of the best. I think that was the moment when the collecting market completely changed.”

Debbie Reynolds sitting on the throne from Virgin Queen, flanked by dresses worn by Bette Davis(R) and Joan Collins (L), ahead of the auction of her collection in 2011. Photo: Kirk McKoy / Los Angeles Times via Getty Images.

In the time since Reynolds let go of her collection, the market for film memorabilia has only exploded. Artifacts from iconic films and franchises don’t just pop up on the block with some regularity, but pull in eye-watering sums. There was the $4 million someone splashed out for the only screen-used Maltese Falcon statuette in 2013; the $2.75 million spent on a Star Wars R2-D2 unit in 2017; and the $6.3 million outlay for an Aston Martin driven by James Bond in Goldfinger in 2019.

The two most valuable film collectibles, in fact, were sold within the past two years. The only surviving Rosebud sled from Citizen Kane, consigned by Gremlins director Joe Dante, realized $14.75 million this July, but not before the famed ruby slippers from The Wizard of Oz sold for a record $32 million in 2024. Both sales happened at Heritage Auctions, where Maddalena is now executive vice president.

Lead statuette of the Maltese Falcon from The Maltese Falcon (1941). Photo: courtesy of Bonhams.

What’s driving these soaring sums? To Maddalena, the fact that artifacts from popular films are finally being taken—and valued—seriously comes as no surprise.

“People are starting to understand the importance of popular culture,” he said. “When you look at Citizen Kane or the Wizard of Oz or Gone With the Wind, these movies are so significant it makes sense that their artifacts are culturally important and would generate interest. You’re seeing the shift in how important these things are.”

A Market Propelled by Passion

Modern-day film memorabilia collecting, in many ways, had its roots in the 1970s, when ailing studios began selling off their assets amid declining fortunes and cultural clout. In 1970, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer auctioned off tens of thousands of props and costumes in an 18-day event—what the Hollywood Reporter dubbed “the greatest rummage sale in history”—generating millions. The following year, 20th Century Fox held its own fire sale. (Some other studios left props and artifacts out with the trash; Dante rescued his Citizen Kane sled from an old RKO Pictures lot.)

The Rosebud sled from Citizen Kane (1941). Photo: Heritage Auctions.

These artifacts, Catherine Williamson told me over a video call, would serve as supply for what would become a thirsty market. Debbie Reynolds, for one, was in attendance at MGM’s auction.

Now managing director of Julien’s Auctions, Williamson has behind her more than two decades of experience in the entertainment auction space. Previously at Bonhams, she oversaw high-profile sales including the Maltese Falcon statue, the $3.4 million Casablanca piano in 2014, and the $5.3 million Robbie the Robot prop from Forbidden Planet in 2017 (once the most expensive film artifact). She also pointed out other “high points” in the market, such as the 1999 auction of Marilyn Monroe’s estate at Christie’s, which raked in upwards of $13 million.

But it was the internet that really changed the game, she stressed, particularly during and after the 2020 lockdowns. “The internet made things so accessible. We were able to get in front of lots of different eyeballs and we were able to bring in younger buyers,” she said. “Younger people are collecting. They’re collecting things that are meaningful to them.”

The bullwhip used in Indiana Jones was crafted by David Morgan, a master whipmaker. Photo: courtesy Propstore.

The age of these new collectors is reflected in what they’re buying. While relics from the classic films of the 1950s and ’60s remain enduringly sought after, movie memorabilia from the 1980s to recent years are increasingly in demand as young fans mature into collectors. According to Brandon Alinger, COO of Propstore, collectibles from franchises such as Indiana Jones, Alien, and Lord of the Rings do incredibly well at auction,

What’s driving these collectors is clear. “The common trait is passion,” Alinger told me at the New York preview of the auction house’s summer entertainment sale. “People who are buying these things are buying them because they love them.”

That passion and a good amount of nostalgia, said Maddalena, make pop culture memorabilia—what he called “alternative pieces of art”—no different from fine paintings. “It always comes from passion,” he emphasized. “A super high-grade first print of Mario or Zelda is as important to a video game enthusiast as what a Warhol meant to somebody 20 years ago.”

The screen-matched lightsaber prop, used by Darth Vader in Star Wars films The Empire Strikes Back (1980) and Return Of The Jedi (1983), on view in London, 2025. Photo: Niklas Halle’n / AFP via Getty Images.

But unlike fine artworks, these artifacts aren’t regularly resold, Alinger pointed out. “We don’t see a lot of people buying just to speculate or just for investment,” he said. For instance, the $3.6 million Star Wars lightsaber Propstore sold in September—now the most valuable prop from the franchise—came fresh-to-market from a private collector who had held on to it for some two decades.

“Obviously, people are aware of that side of it,” Alinger said about market speculation. “But I don’t see people buying just because they think it’s going to be worth more in the future. Most people are buying because they love the content.”

Reaching the Fandoms

Studios, naturally, are not unaware of these fan collectors. Where MGM discovered too late the value of its prop and costume storehouse, today’s studios and production houses have been far savvier. HBO, for instance, saved more than 900 items from its popular fantasy series Game of Thrones, which it offloaded in 2024 for a whopping $21.1 million.

Jorah Mormont’s Armor Ensemble with Longsword from Game of Thrones. Photo: Josh David Jordan/Heritage Auctions.

One pioneer of this model, Williamson noted, was Turner Classic Movies (TCM), which established a partnership with Bonhams around 2013 under her auspices. It was the cable network, which airs classic films around the clock, that offered the Maltese Falcon statuette, as well as other gems, including the Cowardly Lion costume from The Wizard of Oz, which sold for $3 million, and Audrey Hepburn’s Givenchy hat from Funny Face, which went for $87,500.

“They knew they had this really engaged fanbase and they wanted to do more things for them,” Williamson explained. “The first thing they did was put together a film festival, which was a phenomenal success. As their second step, they thought, ‘What if we partnered with an auction house and put together movie memorabilia auctions?’ Now they have other things that they do as brand activation, but the auction remains because it’s such a great way to engage with fans.”

Among the latest studios teaming up with an auction house is the Jim Henson Company, which is selling some 400 pieces of memorabilia through Julien’s (Williamson called the partnership a “career highlight” for her). The November 25 auction marks the first time that the company is selling pieces from its archive, including puppets from Fraggle Rock and The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance.

Lynch’s director chair in front of a red curtain, a recurrent motif in the director’s films. Photo: courtesy Julien’s Auctions.

Objects also arrive on the market from the estates of deceased industry folk. Just this summer, Julien’s hosted a sale of artifacts from the late David Lynch’s home—among them his unrealized scripts, film props, and coffee machines—which raked in $4 million. “What an intense, aggressive fanbase,” said Williamson. Gene Hackman’s personal collection hit the block this week at Bonhams, while a selection of Bing Crosby’s property is making its way to Sotheby’s next month.

Of course, some consignors are still alive, Williamson noted. They could simply be downsizing or moving, and parting with a collection by tapping a devoted following. “I think that’s going to be the new wave. You’re going to see more living consigners,” she said. “It’s part of everybody in the industry realizing, gosh, this is a great way to connect with fans.”

Today’s Custodians, Tomorrow’s Museums

For avid collectors of film memorabilia, the practice has dimensions that span emotional connection and historical preservation. It’s equal parts sentiment and stewardship.

Willard Carroll, who sits on an enviable trove of Wizard of Oz relics, has said of his collectibles: “They don’t have to be valuable; they just instantly connect you to your childhood when you used to get excited about these movies.” For his fellow collector Dan Lanigan, who is behind the documentary series Prop Culture and YouTube channel Cinema Relics, a prop binds you directly to a film you love. “It’s like the adult version of when you would play with toys when you were a kid,” he’s said. “You’re not playing with these props, but they allow you to live in that world.”

Willard Carroll with his boxes of The Wizard of Oz (1939) memorabilia in his Camden home. Photo: Gabe Souza / Portland Press Herald via Getty Images.

Some collectors, too, see themselves as caretakers of cinema history. Bob Burns, for instance, built an unrivaled collection of sci-fi and horror props, housed in a private museum of sorts that he’s dubbed Bob’s Basement. These handmade creations, including those by the likes of artist Rick Baker who gifted works directly to Burns, represent for the 90-year-old collector something “tangible” in the age of CGI. “This stuff is as important to me as a painting in the Louvre,” he said in 2013.

Besides Bob’s Basement, there’s Bleak House, an assembly of horror memorabilia gathered over decades by Guillermo del Toro. The Mexican auteur sold selections from his hoard through Heritage Auctions in September (with two more sales coming up in 2026), calling it his “responsibility” to steward and share the collection for future generations. “I believe that collecting is not owning,” he reflected ahead of the first auction. “Collecting is protecting, a sacred duty, being a keeper of a flame, an acolyte.”

“People are temporary,” Maddalena told me, “but the object’s going to go on, far after we’re all gone, to a future owner then another future owner, or maybe it ends up in an institution forever.”

Guillermo del Toro posing with the prop shotgun for Hellboy II (2006) at Bleak House. Photo: courtesy of Heritage Auctions.

And the objects keep coming. Next month, Propstore is selling an array of Star Wars material, the Elf costume, as well as pieces from the late actor Alan Rickman’s archive, including his Die Hard script. Heritage’s Hollywood auction, meanwhile, features the hat worn by the Wicked Witch from The Wizard of Oz and Tom Jung’s original poster artwork for Star Wars: A New Hope.

Over at Julien’s, its forthcoming entertainment sale, held in partnership with TCM, is rich with jewels and costumes from Hollywood’s Golden Age, on top of contemporary pieces, such as David Lynch scripts and the shirts worn by Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal in Brokeback Mountain.

Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal “Ennis Del Mar and Jack Twist” shirts from Brokeback Mountain (2005). Photo: courtesy of Julien’s Auctions.

It’s not as if museums have not actively sought out these artifacts. The Judy Garland Museum, for example, tried and failed to buy the Oz ruby slippers at the Heritage sale. The Academy Museum in Los Angeles and the Museum of Pop Culture in Seattle hold selections of movie artifacts; the upcoming Lucas Museum of Narrative Art in L.A. will surface some of George Lucas’s Star Wars holdings, spotlighting art forms long side-eyed by the art establishment.

But perhaps, with film memorabilia collecting showing no signs of slowing and artifacts continually hitting the block, today’s collectors are quietly assembling tomorrow’s temples to film history. Reynolds, after all, had wanted to build a museum around her own collection—at one point making an offer to the Academy Museum—only selling the lot after those plans fell through. Of Hollywood’s Golden Age, she once declared, “I’m the custodian; I’m the mama.”

“Almost every major museum that you enjoy started off as a private collection. We wouldn’t have a physical cultural history if we didn’t have private collectors with a unique viewpoint, something only they can see,” said Williamson. “Before the museum, there’s always the private collector, the one person on a mission.”