Director Gods – Why Are We Fixated With Certain Directors More Than Others
Once upon a time, in a land unfamiliar with words like “lockdown”, “the new normal” and “social distancing”, the internet was on fire. This was last November, and the world remained blissfully unaware of a devastating microscopic virus. Instead, the world was fascinated by an interview with director Martin Scorsese. The competition for the 2020 Oscars was heating up, and Scorsese had just suggested that Marvel movies were little more than theme park rides. What resulted was a torrent of angry posts, fraught explainers and clickbait. Even Scorsese himself tried to explain what he meant in a New York Times article titled, I said Marvel Movies aren’t Cinema: Let me Explain.
While Scorsese’s comments shocked the cinema-going world, he’s not actually the rare oddity that the internet made him out to be. Plenty of other famous, award-winning directors have serious bugbears with Marvel, from Ridley Scott to Francis Ford Coppola. However, when these directors aired their opinions on Marvel, there were no angry posts, no fraught explainers and no clickbait. That’s what makes Scorsese so unusual. He is a Director God, and his opinions hold so much weight.
Sat with Scorsese on the table fit for the Gods are the other directors who fit the mould: Quentin Tarantino and Christopher Nolan. There’s something that separates the Director Gods from the standard successful director. All these men have enjoyed commercial success, and they have been incredibly successful in blending together arthouse and blockbuster films. As a result, they create individualistic films with mass appeal.
It’s therefore no surprise that the internet turned really hostile towards Scorsese; he failed to realise that a large proportion of his fans were also fans of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Nolan’s career really kicked off with his small budget film Memento in 2000. He is probably the only director working who would be able to secure a 2020 release (and he did, for his summer blockbuster, Tenet). Besides being technically on the top of their game, all of these three directors have a large – slightly cultish - following. Films from any of these three directors are seen as a gateway from watching run-of-the-mill blockbusters to watching movies that are a little more individualistic. All their work is famous for pulpy violence, wild stunts and fight scenes, revenge, a dash of toxic masculinity. The criteria for films made by Director Gods seems frustratingly limited. Annoyingly, it can often feel that at three, the table is already full.
I coined the phrase, “Director God”, but it is really auteurism turned up by 100. Auteurism comes from the French where “auteur” simply means author, but in this context the film is deemed to be solely down to the director’s vision. Before the 1950s, Hollywood films were created within a studio system. This studio had ultimate control over the film, including the director and the actors. Now, cinema is no longer dominated by the studio system, and movies are viewed under the sole authorship of one key director. Even though countless people work in film – and films are edited, written and produced – each stage casting the film through a different mould – it is rare for films today to be understood as a collaboration between many artists.
But, when we’re talking about the Director Gods, this auteurism doesn’t just accredit the directors with everything in the film, it also elevates these directors and their personalities, creating a strong fanbase. There’s a certain kind of cool, confidence, vision and determination around these directors, and it seems to be codified that this is how a director has to be. But, when Uma Thurman – Tarantino’s star in Kill Bill – spoke about how Tarantino put her in a car that she didn’t feel safe about, resulting in a crash, this almost seemed to be expected behaviour from a high profile director. Tarantino clarified what had happened in his own interview with Deadline, and after a brief moment of complaint, the incident was completely forgotten about. But, are these the kind of incidents we have come to expect?
All of these directors’ films share one thing universally: fun violence. While Scorsese’s films can be interpreted in many ways, many viewers do watch his movies because they’re fun, entertaining and like a funfair ride. His most famous gangster films trade in swathes of violence. In the cases of GoodFellas and Wolf of Wall Street, the violence isn’t emotionally devastating. It’s sexy violence. It’s funny violence. Henry Hill might find himself digging a hole in the ground for a recently murdered victim, but everyone is laughs and smiles. Tarantino is also extremely famous for his love of blood, guts and swearing, and again the violence is there for thrills more than for sickening reality. There’s Brad Pitt’s troupe of Nazi Killers carving swastikas into foreheads in Inglorious Basterds, and there’s Uma Thurman’s Bride slicing up folks in her yellow jumpsuit. This films may be gloriously violent, but violence isn’t dealt with any severity, it’s fun. In its sexiness, this violence isn’t scary – it’s a dopamine rush. These films present the audience with escapism. Escapism has its place within cinema, and it’s also an intrinsic part of blockbuster films.
Turning violence into fun might be sickening for some viewers, but this is one of the main reasons why the Director God’s films stand out. These films never veer off into complete arthouse territory, and their R-ratings do make them feel like a more grown-up Marvel movie. But if violence is one of the primary markers to become a Director God, there are plenty of directors whose unbloody films would never allow them to gain access at the table. The culture of what we expect from high-profile directors needs to shift from shocking to inclusivity.
Is this what the public hunger for? I can understand the machine gun comic violence, but all three of these directors have been criticised for their poorly written female characters. If you want to get into the club, I suppose, violence and a woman-free zone are what guarantees you membership. Most recently, Nolan was criticised again, in Rachel Handler’s witty article for Vulture, for his badly written female lead – this time portrayed by Elizabeth Debicki in Tenet . Nolan has been repeatedly criticised throughout his filmmaking career on his portrayal of women. If they’re not dead, they’re abused instead. Cheery, right?
Women cast as silent side characters has become a bit of a habit with all of these directors. Both Tarantino and Scorsese hit the headlines last awards season when it turned out their female stars barely uttered a word in their lengthy runtimes, and in the case of Anna Paquin in Scorsese’s The Irishman, she only speaks for six minutes in a two and a half-hour-long film. Silent women might not be what the media or the audience wants, but these issues are all very easily shrugged off because it’s just something which is an accepted part of being a big-shot director. Our cinematic culture is so dominated by these particular directors, that the culture is filled with these tropes, and silent women seem like an unavoidable facet in filmmaking today.
Significantly few directors can bridge the gap between blockbuster and arthouse film – and that is probably what has allowed these three directors to have a long successful career. But to become a household name, even for people who don’t watch films, is it necessary to star silent women and coat everything in bloody violence? To break the cycle seems impossible. But I think dawn is breaking. After Greta Gerwig’s Little Women – she too might bridge the gap between blockbuster and arthouse. Finally, there will be a seat free at the table, and the domineering image of the male Director God may finally have a chink in its armour. While it’s good to admire their work, I quite like the idea of moving away from preaching at the Director God’s altar.
Written by Lucy Clarke
Lucy Clarke is studying her Masters at Edinburgh University, and an avid film lover and writer. When she’s not watching or writing about film, you can find her attempting to become Nigella Lawson by baking another banana bread or singing Eurovision classics. You can find her blog here: lucyatthepictures.com and you can also find out what she’s up to on her twitter