Directors

A few weeks ago, Shay from Jerusalem wrote in:

> I’m researching about Big Fish’s textual references to other auteurs or to the film canon in general. At first, I noticed the 8½ style ending, then the freeze scene reminded me of Scolla’s “We loved each other so much” exposition. Further more I thought Calloway’s character interestingly resembles a crossbreed between Dr Caligari and the Tramp.

> Also lots of visual cues of circles which it think refer to Chaplin’s “The Circus”, that do not appear in the final script.

> Have I overestimated your script/Burton’s directing? Blindly missed?

I don’t know if “overestimating” is a polite way to put it, but no, none of those references were in my head for Big Fish. And while I never spoke with Tim about the specifics on how he chose to shoot things, I’d be very surprised if those other films were conscious aspects of his process.

Academia teaches us to ask questions like Shay’s — and generally, to answer them ourselves. So we find parallels and influences that make sense on paper without worrying too much about whether they’re actually true.

To his credit, Shay tracked me down and asked his questions. I probably ruined the thesis of his research paper by answering honestly.

I was reminded of my email exchange with Shay by a video [Daring Fireball](http://daringfireball.net/linked/2011/07/26/shining-spatial-impossibilities) linked to this morning:

[The Shining — spatial awareness and set design](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0sUIxXCCFWw).

(The video continues in [part two](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IfJ8rK7eJeQ&feature=related).)

Rob Ager’s analysis of spatial impossibilities in The Shining is entertaining but naive, the video equivalent of Shay’s unwritten paper:

> These blatant design anomalies would not have occurred by accident. Set designers would have noticed them and brought them to Stanley’s attention at the blueprint stage. The only way they could occur is if Stanley wanted them there.

I’m sure there is a more official name, but let’s call this situation the genius fallacy. We start with a god-like figure such as Stanley Kubrick, well-known for his [exacting attention to detail](http://somecamerunning.typepad.com/some_came_running/2011/06/test.html).

Ager’s thesis seem to be: Since Kubrick was a perfectionist, anything that seems like an error in Kubrick’s work *must not* be an error, but must instead be a deliberate choice.

Yes, that sounds like fundamentalism.

Ager does have logic to support his narrative. After all, the Overlook Hotel is meant to be vast and confusing. The movie features a hedge maze as a major component. Kubrick is clearly playing with themes of disorientation, both physically and mentally. So it makes sense his choices would emphasize these aspects.

But —

The windows are there for light.

The walls are placed to best frame the scenes.

The big hedge map was moved because he didn’t want it in the shot. (Or, more likely, it was moved *into* the shot when he wanted it.)

In his analysis of cinematic geography, Ager is ignoring a tremendous amount of silent evidence. Namely, *every movie ever made.* Any film subjected to the kind of scrutiny applied here will reveal moments of spatial impossibility.

Here are just three reasons why:

**Cinematic geography is largely transient.** The audience pays attention to where things are within a scene, which is why we worry about camera direction and [crossing the line](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/180_degree_rule). But the minute you cut to another scene, our brains safely discard the perceived geography.

**Sets are designed to do things real locations can’t.** Walls move, giving the director the choice (and decision) how much to bend reality in order to position a camera where it couldn’t physically be.

**Even when movies use real locations, they are often assembled from various pieces.** The exterior of the Overlook Hotel is actually [The Timberline Lodge](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timberline_Lodge) in Oregon. And yes: the rooflines and windows don’t match closely with Kubrick’s sets.

But what would Ager have Kubrick do? Should an infallible genius director build a new exterior to match his vision of the interior, or should he alter his vision of the interior to match the realities of the exterior?

The fact is, Kubrick doesn’t have to do either. Audiences easily accept that the two locations are the same, not because Kubrick has perfected some form of cinematic spatial disorientation, but because that’s how movies work.

When Shelley Duvall is crawling out the window, what matters that we believe it’s the same window inside and outside — not whether it’s a corner apartment. Kubrick isn’t performing some amazing psychological trick here.

He’s getting away with cheating a location. That’s what directors do.

Filmmaking is essentially the art of sustaining the suspension of disbelief: from shot to shot, scene to scene. On location scouts, we talk about “selling” and “buying” and “reading.”

The Shining is a great movie. Kubrick was a great director. At the end of the second video, Ager focuses on a few points well worth highlighting, because they are very deliberate and very effective demonstrations of Kubrick’s skills.

Notice how the camera tracks Danny as his tricycle loops around the hallways — and how that ties into the final set piece in the maze.

Observe how Kubrick isolates his characters by placing them in vast sets and landscapes.

But don’t obsess about which way the freezer door swings. By making too much of too little, you miss out the bigger picture.

I am an aspiring director. If my true passion lies in films (action-adventure in particular) and not in music videos or commercials, should I bother trying to make a run at being a music video director? Would learning how to tell a story with no dialogue in under three minutes be worth it to me?

Or should I just stick with the indie film route and write a low-budget film?

— Tyler Leisher

As a general rule, don’t waste your time building a proxy career.

Every director needs practice with visual storytelling and composition. You can do that homework by shooting as much as possible: photography, short films, docs, etc. Study how others do it. Read books. Learn VFX.

Watch movies with the sound off. I’ve learned a lot by not putting my headphones on while staring at random inflight movies. For whatever reason, you particularly notice matching eyelines this way.

If your goal is to direct the next Once, I suspect these smaller steps would be enough.

But in your case, Tyler, genre matters. To direct movies with loud trailers and explosions, you’re going to need a director’s reel that shows size and scale and sizzle. Music videos and commercials are a great way to do that, as are spec shorts with a lot of visual FX. [Modern Times](http://vimeo.com/17631561) will get Ben Craig more attention than a nicely-observed indie would:

Yet it’s a misconception that Hollywood is eager to hire music video directors. They really aren’t.

Studio execs want to hire directors they believe can get the movie on the screen as effectively and cheaply as possible. Music video and commercial directors tend to have great-looking reels that showcase high production value for low production costs. And they’re hungry: they’ll work their asses off to land a feature directing assignment, even shooting spec scenes to show what they can do. ((And yes, this drives established directors crazy. It creates that expectation that directors should have to audition for jobs.))

So if you, Tyler, want to direct these kinds of big movies, you’ll need to show you have the visual chops to pull it off. You could do that with music videos or commercials, or a small feature like Gareth Edward’s Monsters. Also consider television: the walls separating film from TV have never been lower, particularly given the quality of many one-hour dramas.

Whichever path you take, remember where you’re trying to head. It’s all too easy to get stuck on treadmill of small assignments that never lead to your intended destination.