With the rise and acceptance of streaming, and the popularization of the icky word “content” to describe literally everything now, there seems to be a disrespect towards filmmaking in general. In my opinion, there used to be a time when the director was considered just as much of a star as an actor. I know that sounds like I’m exaggerating a bit there, but to give you an idea of what I mean: when I was a kid I remember there was an article in some kids magazine about “filmmaking advice.” One of the things mentioned was, “Wear a baseball hat like Spielberg or any of the other greats. All great directors wear baseball hats!” The director used to be seen as an almost larger than life figure with a vision, primarily responsible for the film, and with certain names came certain expectations.
Today those names are only limited to a small few. Names like both of the Andersons (Wes and Paul Thomas), Tarantino, or the aforementioned Spielberg immediately come to mind. When you hear one of these guys have made a movie, it’s still a big deal: you already kind of know what to expect from each of them. You’re not just gonna watch mindless “content” indistinguishable from anything else, you are about to embark on the viewing of a quality, actually well-crafted film. Every once in awhile people like the Safdie brothers or Alex Ross Perry come along and break this pattern, and when their movies are released you know what you’re getting will be different than any other director’s. But for the most part I’d argue that this distinction is unfortunately still limited to the old guard. Perhaps if things ever pick up after covid this might change, but I really don’t know. (Personally, and this is very dark, sorry, I am very excited to see what happens to filmmaking once a bunch of people with older energy die off and finally allow younger people to do things with decent budgets. I’ve been sitting in my parents basement for years torrenting through decades of film history and I’ve written several screenplays; I think I might be a little qualified at this point).
A big example of just how a director makes their mark can be seen in adaptations. Lately I’ve been reading a lot of Elmore Leonard, as well as watching films that directors have made based on his work. The three biggest Leonard-inspired movies most people are probably aware of are Jackie Brown, Out of Sight, and Get Shorty.
After going down the rabbit hole these last few days, the thing that strikes me is how clearly they illustrate what a director does. Each film is based on work written by the same guy, but each film was directed by a different person, and therefore feels different. Tarantino’s Jackie Brown has his distinct flair, who went as far as changing the race of the main character from white to black because he felt it was more appropriate, and including more scenes with certain characters that were not given that much time in the book originally (the Beaumont sequence was given more weight in the film to set up Ordell’s character and behaviour a bit better for the later half). Soderbergh’s Out of Sight expertly balances the crime/comedy hybrid of Leonard’s world and nails it perfectly without steering too far off in either direction. And Sonnenfeld’s adaptation of Get Shorty retains the same hybrid, but his film feels much lighter as it veers off into full blown comedy a bit more.
The interesting thing about each of these films is that they get the feel and style of Elmore Leonard’s writing absolutely correct, yet they feel entirely different from each other. It makes for a great case study or film lesson: each director made a movie only they would ever think of making with the same source material. If you were to give Soderbergh or Sonnenfield the same chance to direct Jackie Brown, you’d probably end up getting a good film, but something entirely different.
Another author I’ve noticed this same phenomenon with lately is Dennis Lehane. He is the man behind the novels Mystic River and Gone Baby Gone, both of which went on to be adapted by two different directors. And once again, when you watch both films back to back (as I also did recently), you get the same sense that they’re written by the same person, but the feeling of both is different. Clint Eastwood’s film has a longer running time, and it feels like the material has a bit more breathing room. Ben Affleck’s work isn’t bad, but isn’t as powerful or memorable. Eastwood just has a way of kicking you in the gut relentlessly that Affleck chooses to forego. Over the years I have heard many recommendations from people telling me I “must see Mystic River,” and almost zero for Gone Baby Gone. Once again, it’s interesting to me that this is material written by the same guy, but directed by two different people. You have to wonder: if Gone Baby Gone had been directed by Eastwood, would the film have stood out more in the culture?
Even under the studio system and the rules that one presumably has to follow, each director comes with their own personality, their own quirks, and interests that show in their work. Only Harmony Korine could have made The Beach Bum, and only Haneke could have made The Piano Teacher. I realize that in this thing I only mentioned white dude directors, and who knows: in the near future we might start to see more films being made by more types of people. I would love to see the concept of auteurism extended to everyone someday, because it means more great films. My hope with all this streaming shit is that people collectively rediscover the importance of great, unique filmmaking, and why directors are still important.
