More than anything else, I get asked my favorites. Favorite films, favorite directors, actors, blah, blah. As anyone who has asked me (which I think is just about everyone) knows, whenever I am asked, I always blank. In those moments after the words come out, I couldn’t tell you my own name. (Not that I would include my own name. Sure I’m a great director, but I’m also modest.) As a way to finally answer those who have asked and so I can hopefully answer in the future, I decided I’d finally sit down and make an actual list. I will probably still blank whenever I’m asked, but at least now I can say, “Well, if you check my blog…”
So, in no particular order, but with a little bit of accompanying explanation, here are the six men who I consider to be the best directors around (with an even longer list of honorable mentions tacked onto the end). If you’ve not seen at least one film by each of these guys, find one this week (video store, netflix, my DVD rack) and watch it.
Easy choice. Probably just about the easiest name to include. Usually after my mind unlocks when I’m asked for a favorite director his name pops up first. As I said though, there’s no “best to worst” ordering of this list and I don’t know that I’d call Kubrick my top of the pops, but I couldn’t leave him off this list. I can easily say that I have never seen a bad movie from him (yes, I’m the guy that liked Eyes Wide Shut). I always forget until I’m actually watching it how enthralling The Godfather is (yes, I know he didn’t direct it). Similarly, I always forget that a three hour Kubrick film feels like watching an hour and a half film from a lesser director.
More than perhaps anyone else on this list, Cronenberg’s films are all about ideas. Sure some of them come across as gore filled romps, but behind the gore and, more importantly, driving the gore is a depth of intelligence that one rarely finds behind the lens these days. I’d stand him up next to Hitchcock as possibly the one other director who seems to be as equally obsessed with the concept of identity. Though where Hitchcock concerned himself with how the world misidentifies us, Cronenberg’s focus is on how we rightly or wrongly perceive ourselves. If you’re only passingly familiar with his work (i.e. you’ve seen The Fly and The Dead Zone), it may sound odd speaking about Cronenberg’s work with such depth, but it’s not just something that critics slap onto it (like that essay I keep meaning to write about how Die Hard typifies the hero myth cycle). He actually does embed deeper and deeper layers of meaning into his movies. It something I could and should write more about, but not now.
I usually don’t like his films the first time I watch them. Years ago when I first saw 8 1/2, I could not understand what made it so highly regarded. Indeed, I had trouble just figuring out what was going on. The second time I watched it, I was sick and feverish. I followed it perfectly that time and it lodged itself into a spot in my all time top five movies, a spot where it still resides. Just about every other film of his that I’ve seen has gone through the same two-step process (though without the fever). More recently I read his autobiography and at times felt a bit creeped out as he often made statements about filmmaking (in general and his own) that nearly word for word matched statements I had made to those few friends of mine who actually listen when I start waxing eloquent about my own film philosophy. More than all but one other on this list, he has been the biggest influence on my filmmaking in the past five years.
4. Billy Wilder
Wilder is the one other director, mentioned just above, who has had the biggest influence on my filmmaking of late. I’ve seen more of his films than anyone else’s on this list (though Cronenberg is a close second) and while some films by the other top five might not ever find their way into my DVD player again, I would not hesitate to watch any of Wilder’s films again and again. His work generally eschews the larger subjects for what is quite possibly a more important subject: people, our relationships with each other, our foibles, our strengths. Watching his films is like the world’s most entertaining course in sociology.
For a film school geek, this name is something of a requisite. It wasn’t until just a couple of years ago though that I saw Rashomon, what some would call his masterpiece. Like Shakespeare, it comes across as clichéd because it’s been “done” so many times over the years. For those unaware, it’s about an encounter between three characters in a forest, but is told from each person’s perspective and is, consequently, different in each telling. While it is done wonderfully (like Kubrick, I’ve never seen a bad Kurosawa film), Ran, his adaptation of King Lear (to bring it back around to Shakespeare), is possibly the best film he ever made. It transports the tale to feudal Japan, drops all the language, but either in spite of or because of those changes explodes with the same brilliant analysis of humanity that Shakespeare did so well.
I’m a bit uncertain about putting him on here, but I’m much more uncertain about leaving him off. I’ve seen more of his films than I’ve seen from Kubrick. Other than School of Rock, I think very highly of all the ones I’ve seen (which is why I own and have seen at least three times nearly all of them). I can’t think of any reason he should not be on the list, however, he still just barely squeeks onto it. He is on it though and with his name on films like Before Sunset and Tape I do feel comfortable standing by that placement. Maybe after I see his next one, I’ll know better why he is here.
As for these “honorable mention” guys, the first four were originally the last four names of what was going to be my top ten directors. As I got to the first of these names though I realized that I’ve honestly not seen enough of their oevure to comfortably place them into that pantheon (I checked all the names against IMDB just to confirm how many films I had seen of each and sure enough I have seen more films from the directors above than any of those names below). They are excellent directors every one based on what I have seen, but I need to see more.
Robert Altman - I fought against myself on this one. I don’t imagine I’ll ever see a film of his that would horrify me enough to keep his name off a list of top directors, but reason trumps emotion so he sits here in the dugout for now.
David Mamet - If this list were of top screenwriters, I couldn’t keep him off the list, even having only seen three films. It’s a list of directors though and that’s a harder skill to judge. Maybe next time.
Cameron Crowe - Here’s the exception. I’ve seen (and own) all of his films. I like them all. Where Linklater makes it on, Crowe does not. Why? I’m not entirely sure. Maybe after he’s made a couple more films he’ll be there, but not yet.
Sidney Lumet - Like Altman, by all rights, he probably should be on the list. Once I see more of his films, I expect he will be.
Ralph Bakshi - His quality fluctuates too much. At his best, his films, though they’d likely spit on the floor and make rude gestures at Lolita, could stand beside those of Kubrick and Kurosawa. At his worst, well, we won’t speak of that.
Walter Hill - I probably wouldn’t even mention him, except that he should be much more well known than he is. You’ve probably seen his name under a producer credit more than the director title, which is a shame as few out there serve up better “guy” movies.
George Clooney - He’s only made two films. Both of them are excellent so if he continues at the same level, he’ll be on this list in the future.
And lastly, Sir David Lean, only mentioned here because he directed the movie that still reigns as my number one favorite film of all time, Lawrence of Arabia. Having only seen one other film of his, I can’t justify putting his name on the list proper, but nor could I bring myself to compose such a list without even a nod in his direction.