Top 25 Film Directors

[captainkev]

Didn't include Fincher on my list but I do like what I've seen from him. Zodiac was fascinating and Seven is superb. Also agree about the write-ups, very good job so far Albino.

[WhiteRoseKillie]

Didn't include Fincher on my list but I do like what I've seen from him. Zodiac was fascinating and Seven is superb. Also agree about the write-ups, very good job so far Albino.

Kind of sums me up as well. Fight Club probably the best I've seen but I also enjoyed seven. Some cracking films but not enough to crack my top ten.

[Henrik's tongue]

I didn't vote on this poll (only one I've missed so far) but can I just say Albino Rover should look into being a professional writer/reviewer within the film industry. The write ups are great!

Any way, I was inspired due to this thread to watch 2 Ken Loach films I hadn't seen last night. Sweet Sixteen and The Angels' Share. Fantastic - particularly the latter.

[yoda]

I had him at #9 and probably should have put him higher. He's one of the most consistent directors around: he's not had a miss of any real note (Assembly Cut of A3, not the theatrical cut). I'm a fan of his distinctive visual style and he just knows how to create tension without being overindulgent. He's one of the finest directors of my "generation" (i.e.- to have kicked off his film career during the early 90s when I was born).

[Albino Rover]

9. Christopher Nolan

One of the major names of this generation and one of the most successful writer-directors of all time in the thriller genre, this director has only been active for a little over 15 years but he's already brought us a number of masterpieces, and created a refreshing new wave of cerebral cinema.

In a time of too many mainstream films insulting their audience's intelligence Christopher Nolan is one of very few to keep bringing originality and complicated narratives into blockbuster films. From very early in his career he's found a balance between creating entertainment and pushing cinematic boundaries, with results that are both visually exciting and commercially appealing.

Nolan is another product of the Super 8 generation. With an American mother and British father he spent time on both sides of the Atlantic but he was born and educated in England, and began experimenting with his dad's 8mm camera from a very early age. After school he attended UCL, where he studied English literature and was a very enthusiastic member of the film society, taking full advantage of the availability of 16mm cameras and an editing suite, even putting on his own screenings of major feature films to raise money to shoot his own short films.

After leaving university, and working briefly making corporate and industrial films, he attempted his first independent short film, Doodlebug, which he wrote, produced, directed, designed, filmed and edited himself. He served in most of those roles again for his first feature film, Following, a noiresque character thriller in which a struggling writer looking for inspiration becomes obsessed with following random people around London, but runs into trouble after unknowingly pursuing a criminal. Made on a shoestring budget of £3,000, Nolan cut costs everywhere he could, rehearsing every scene thoroughly so they could be filmed in as few takes as possible and relying on natural light for most scenes (which was one of the main reasons for Nolan choosing to film in black-and-white), but the film's genius is his assembly of those scenes- the non-linear narrative not only builds suspense and hides crucial elements of the plot until the final twist, but also makes the characters all the more fascinating, as we discover more about them in little pieces. Spookily there are also a few prophecies in the film, including a prominent Batman symbol and a character named Cobb.

After the excellent reception of Following, in order to pursue his career in film Nolan, along with his younger brother Jonathan, moved to America. On a road trip together, Jonathan pitched a short story idea to Christopher, about a man whose short-term memory loss impedes his attempt to avenge his wife's murder, and his dependence on mementos: notes, photographs and tattoos, to carry out his mission. The short story became Memento, an ingenious thriller which combines the genuinely intelligent crime plot with a completely original narrative.

Primarily the film is told in two inter-cutting parts: one revealing the character's back story (told chronologically, in black and white) and one showing how he did it (told backwards, beginning with the vengeance kill, in colour) connected by an ever-confused voice-over of what's going on in the hero's mind. The short sections, as well as moving the story along in a unique way, help personify the main character's memory span and put the viewer in his shoes as sincerely and directly as possible. The film also shows the importance of creative storytelling: the plot could have worked in a conventional, linear fashion but it was the way it's told that got it recognised and applauded across the board.

After having excelled on two thrillers by the age of 30, Nolan was trusted to direct his first major-budget film, Insomnia. Adapted from a Norwegian film of the same name, the plot, like Memento, is centred around a man's state-of-mind and the problems it presents, which Nolan portrays once again with genuine depth and insight. Al Pacino plays a police detective who, with his partner, has been sent from Los Angeles to Alaska, to investigate a homicide case with the local police. The nature of the location ends up giving Pacino's character as much trouble as the case, and the plot thickens as the problems of both elements persist, with no shortage of complications. As the story develops, Nolan photographs the setting in a way that depicts its beauty and its danger, as well as twisting the investigation and the characters, rethinking rather than retelling the original story, making it an appropriate and worthwhile remake.

Nolan's early work is formidable - Memento and Insomnia are considered two of the best thrillers of their decade - but his drive to push himself and constantly scale up led to something much more ambitious for his next work; not only a nine-figure budget but a step into the unknown, and an attempt to revive and revamp a franchise that had been dormant for almost a decade.

Nolan’s vision of Batman turned Gotham City into a real place- one of the biggest aesthetic changes was moving Gotham from art deco New York to the glass skyscrapers of Chicago, bringing the Bruce Wayne story into a 21st century environment. He changed the characters, too: for the first time we saw Bruce Wayne's parents, the root of his fear of bats and the disturbingly realistic motives and methods of his transformation into a people's protector. We also took a step into Gotham's grimy underworld, meeting antagonists who rather than mutant super-villains were corrupt officials and organised criminals, giving the film an unprecedented realism that made Batman's role all the more important.

The film, admirably, focuses mainly on the development of its characters, but when the action starts it doesn't disappoint, directed with dedication and flair from the dynamic Nolan, who refuses a second-unit, preferring to direct all the action himself. It was also a breath of fresh air to see a modern film using practical effects as much as possible, rather than CGI: Nolan insisted on having a real Batcave built, complete with real waterfall, and renting an airship hangar on which to build sections of the slums and Gotham monorail. Nolan's attention to all of those details are what have made Batman Begins a landmark film, which changed its director's career as dramatically as it changed the future of the superhero film.

After completing Begins Nolan very quickly went straight to work on his next project, something altogether more tricky and mysterious, The Prestige, a dark thriller about the rivalry between two top magicians in 19th century London who, fuelled by obsession and jealousy, begin to take their art to the extreme; in their work as well as their lives they stay in fierce competition, gradually abandoning their morals as they sacrifice more to attempt "real" magic. From the first scene to the very last frame there's always more going on than you may first think, with the mystery as complicated as the characters, and endless twists and turns as the plot continues to unravel. "Are you watching closely?" is an appropriate first line of dialogue, as is the last.

While many of his generation have become endorsers of the digital age, Nolan has always taken a firm stance in the opposite camp. Like his predecessors and many of his elders he still believes in the magic of the flicker and the superior quality of printed film, so much that rather than resort to the much cheaper and easier digital for the high resolution and effects required for his next three films, he made them some of the very few modern films to be shot, at least partially, on 65mm film, and 70mm IMAX.

The first of those was the unforgettable second instalment of the Batman trilogy, The Dark Knight. As well as keeping the realism of Begins this film continued to avoid the superhero cliché, turning instead into one of the darkest and most exciting crime films of this century in its own right. The deviation from using "Batman" in the title was a brave move but it said it all: The Dark Knight isn't about comic book capers: our Joker is an insane, murderous terrorist. The Scarecrow, who we also met in Begins, is a deranged psychiatrist. Two-Face is a deformed maniac. Batman is a flawed hero, a vigilante with a troubled past, who we now recognise is putting himself in grave danger every time he tries to do the right thing, and the battle between valiant good and merciless evil becomes a moral conundrum, rather than a matter of the good guy kicking ass.

The film is also a technical marvel, with the rich sound and clinical resolution of the IMAX format prominent when used, and even bigger-scale practical effects, not least the destruction of a hospital, and hugely ambitious camera working all the way through the electrifying action. Game-changingly ambitious and universally popular, The Dark Knight's reception was as positive as the hype; and it's already standing the test of time as one of the iconic films of its era.

Nolan’s films are known for intricate plots and complicated characters but none more prominently than Inception, his first foray into science fiction, in which a crew of criminals skilled in extracting thoughts from peoples dreams attempt, for the first time, to do the opposite, and plant an idea in someone's mind. The mission is dangerous but the troubled lead character's motive is so strong that he leads his crew into action, with endless complications.

At its root it's a supreme example of cinematic storytelling on a massive scale, using many unique narrative techniques including explaining concepts through experience rather than dialogue, and changing speeds to represent the different layers of consciousness and varying time frames of events that are happening simultaneously. Some viewers got lost in its plot but it's just as easy to get lost in the technical side of the film; the sound, clinical editing and, of course, the epic, mind-bending cinematography:

A film as grand and elaborate as Inception requires attention to detail from its writer and a strong narrative leadership from its director so that the audience is both enlightened and compelled. Christopher Nolan manages both in a way that makes Inception thrilling entertainment, as well as working on a deeper emotional level, and arriving at a satisfying conclusion.

After Inception there was a great buzz all over the world in anticipation of Nolan's return to Gotham City, and eventually, in Summer 2012, came his completion of the trilogy with the darkest and perhaps bravest of his Batman films, The Dark Knight Rises, which as well as putting Batman up against his most brutal nemesis, with the stakes even higher than previously, brought the Dark Knight's story to a definitive climax.

The film is told on a much more personal level than The Dark Knight, for the large part portraying Bruce Wayne as deeply and sympathetically as in Batman Begins, presenting his personal struggles after the events in the previous film, before returning as Batman to face Gotham's biggest threat yet, putting his heroism to the ultimate test. On top of the action the film does everything expected of a finale, drawing to a fitting conclusion of the enigmatic careers of both Wayne and Batman, and finalising the trilogy that changed the landscape of its genre.

His work comes back to our screens in November with his ninth feature film, Interstellar, which promises to be a spectacle.

At 43 and 9 months Nolan is the youngest man on this list but he's already one of the defining directors of the current age of cinema. His visual range and imagination are extraordinary, as is his rare ability to consistently thrill his audience as well as immerse them in the films' atmosphere and tell the story through the characters so intricately and intensely that they not only demand repeat viewings but actually improve on re-watch.

Handling remakes and franchises as well as his own original ideas, he has proven himself as a writer-director from all sources of material in an ever-increasing range of settings and situations. Still a young director, he's already given us eight wonderful films and he's just getting started: the future is still bright for Christopher Nolan, and the possibilities are infinite.

[yoda]

It shouldn't come as any surprise to regular readers of this sub-forum that I'm a fan of Christopher Nolan's work. He gets a mixed response on here but he's arguably been the best director of the 21st century, so far.

I don't think he's made a weak film:

Following is a genius piece of filmmaking, from the technical side through to the film itself: an engaging plot and a ballsy one given the director had no previous credentials to his name. Memento is an excellent film and although some people argue that it doesn't have the same appeal the second time around, it is a film that requires multiple viewings. People can call it "overrated" and criticise it for having a basic non-linear structure but it's better than, for example, Pulp Fiction - which utilises a similar approach. Insomnia is one of the better Hollywood remakes and a significant improvement on the original (although I do find the ending to be disappointing). I'm a big fan of The Prestige - it's his most underrated work - and Inception - despite being my least favourite Nolan film - is an enjoyable blockbuster that at least tries to offer something different.

The Dark Knight trilogy is obviously his most well known work. I'm biased because Nolan's vision of Gotham and Batman is something that reflected my own views on what Batman should be like: gritty realism but still retaining that fictional aspects that come from the world of comic books. Batman Begins took Batman and drawing on inspiration from graphic novels such as Year One, gave us a Batman origins story: Batman, and Bruce Wayne, felt like real characters. The Dark Knight didn't feel like a Batman film (I think the poster Banterman drew a brilliant comparison between TDK and Michael Mann's Heat) instead it was a crime thriller that just happened to have two costumed men facing off against each other. The Dark Knight Rises was criticised by many because it didn't (and couldn't) live up to the heights set by its predecessor. However it was a different take: Batman was older and wasn't the hero we knew - he had been affected by events, again drawing upon that real character created in the first film - and he faced two villains that had parallels to him. Bane is the man Batman could have been, and Talia al-Ghul was a direct contrast to the Bruce Wayne of the first film - he choose not to destroy Gotham in order to avenge the death of his parents; Talia did. There's all sorts of inspiration behind it: Lumet, Lean, Dickens, and even some Battle Of Algiers in there.

His use of practical effects is refreshing. The lorry stunt, the exploding hospital, a plane being torn apart in mid-air, a revolving corridor, nevermind the massive construction of many of the sets we see.

What really draws me to Nolan though (and it's the exact opposite of my number one pick) is that his films are structure driven. The characters exist to further the plot. He has an idea and progresses it with characters. This leads to criticism of his writing (I think he needs to work on writing dialogue because it almost feels like exposition, and indeed it is at times) which is fair game. That said, he has an excellent ability to immerse the audience in the film. They are structured in a way that emphasises how the characters are feeling, and what the themes are (the three acts of The Prestige; the amnesia in Memento; the ambiguity of Inception)

Throwbacks to classic film noir are also most welcome in my book, and you do see that Nolan does have some sort of love affair with those crime films of a bygone era.

He's a far from perfect director and I think his inclusion this high up the list will lead to some backlash Plenty of posters will comment on "he's not as smart as he thinks he is" and "there's always a twist". Both are fair criticisms.

[EdgarusQPFC]

Another fantastic write up, brilliant as ever Rover, this has quickly became my favorite topic on the forum. Nolan is simply superb

[Albino Rover]

8. Paul Thomas Anderson

At 43 years and 10 months, this man is the second youngest director on the list, but right from his entry to mainstream cinema, almost 20 years ago, he's shown the expertise, wisdom and insight of an experienced maestro.

A gifted filmmaker technically, with his work so far he's shown endless audacity and bravery, never conforming to cultural standards, rather pushing them into something altogether more interesting and original, usually with a profound meaning. He’s only made 6 feature films but already Paul Thomas Anderson has shown a massive range of themes and styles in his direction, and just as much genius in his screenwriting: from goofy comedy to morbid tragedy, sometimes both in the same film, he has always valued meticulous visual design and created captivating stories, and the most intriguing and original characters through whom to tell them.

From his early teens Paul Thomas filmed home movies on video, experimenting with 8mm and 16mm but unable to afford to keep buying it. He directed his first production, on video, at the age of 18, a mockumentary entitled The Dirk Diggler Story, a project he would expand upon a little later in his career. Knowing from childhood that he wanted to direct movies, he didn't do particularly well in school or college; he attended film school but only for only two days, claiming that his next short film, Cigarettes & Coffee, was his real education. Directed by Anderson when he was just 22, it shows three conversations in a diner, all linked by the titular cigarettes and coffee, and a $20 bill. The film was selected for screening in the shorts programme at the 1993 Sundance Film Festival, and from that Anderson was invited to convert his work into a feature film.

After a radical expansion of the original 20-minute film, and a couple of years in production, came Hard Eight, a character study which follows one of the characters from Cigarettes, a grey-haired stranger, who at first appears mysterious as he meets a broke younger man and talks about casinos, but the film gradually becomes a personal story about this broken man, his desperation, regret, loneliness and uncertainty about where he's going, held together by deftly-set mood and very subtle tension. It debuted at Cannes, under its original title, Sydney, and brought its director immediate mainstream acclaim.

Throughout that time of excitement Anderson had continued picking at his earlier Dirk Diggler material, trying to find something equally comic but altogether more ambitious, more complex and with a deeper meaning, and it's fair to say that he absolutely nailed it.

At the beginning of Boogie Nights we're introduced to the disco scene in the San Fernando Valley in the 1970s. We enter a nightclub with coloured spotlights and a light-up dancefloor, rub shoulders with a niche group of celebrities who don't have to wait in line, and meet a teenage kitchen porter gazing at the VIPs as he collects glasses. All that happens in the first shot of the film. But amongst the music and flashy cinematography we quickly discover that the teenager is Eddie Adams, the only child in a dysfunctional family, good-looking with a special talent, but frustrated and desperate for escape, which he finds in a dark corner of showbusiness, with his new misfit colleagues who become his surrogate family as he changes his name, and rises to fame. As well as the unique twist on the "star is born" story, all the peripheral characters have their own personal agendas, their own attainable dreams, but vary in dedication to them, and with changing personalities, technologies and drugs, instead fall into a decline, although as they ride the rollercoaster most of the main characters find some sort of solace, and despite some casualties, and moments of tension and grave seriousness, comedy prevails through most of the film.

With some restless set-pieces and exhibitionist camera direction, in directing Boogie Nights Anderson showed no lack of experience and knew no boundaries, with cameras moving effortlessly, booming, panning and tracking in and out of buildings, across streets and even underwater to capture the story as seamlessly as it's written, with some deliberate unprofessionalism in places, in homage to the genre that inspired it.

After proving himself with two great films, released under a year apart, Anderson was granted full creative control over his next project. Realising this was a position he was unlikely to find himself in ever again, he wrote himself a hugely ambitious screenplay with multiple leading roles and a range of loosely linked cross-cutting stories. The result was Magnolia, an urban epic which follows many different characters living in a rainy Los Angeles, connected by sadness, romantic loneliness, guilt, shame, childhood trauma, cancer and game shows. All the seemingly unrelated characters have vices and flaws but the message Anderson seems to put across is that everyone has an explanation, and everything has a reason. One of the major themes of the film is the idea of coincidence, which Anderson outlines and uses to create a strong expectation, before pulling the wool back from over our eyes with one of the most unpredictable and inexplicable endings ever.

With three acclaimed films under his belt before his 30th birthday, by the turn of the millennium P.T. Anderson was already one of the brightest and most-respected young directors in Hollywood. After two films well over the two-hour mark, he vowed that he would keep his next work short and sweet, and under those self-imposed run-time constraints he delivered once again with Punch Drunk Love. The film tells the story of a struggling small business owner, bullied and emasculated by his seven sisters, insecure and desperate leading to spells of anger and destruction, who early one morning discovers a portable harmonium, which he can't play, and a beautiful woman, whom he can't resist.

Anderson claims he has long been a fan of Adam Sandler's comedy, but was tired of seeing him play the same character all the time, so wrote him a role with depth and real personality- a lonely, frustrated prisoner of his own low self-esteem, obsessing over his own mundane plans but ultimately longing for the simplest and most primitive of pleasures. The character and screenplay brought the film's star a previously-unseen maturity, which is the strongest evidence of the brilliance of its writing, but an equal appreciation of Anderson's skill is demanded by his supremely intelligent camera direction, ranging from the showy, ambitious tracking shots to visual metaphor and pure abstract art. Punch Drunk Love is a deep film about the power of love, its simple pleasures, calming influence and spontaneous inspiration. Paul Thomas Anderson said it’s about “finding your music, and getting in tune”.

After his fourth film Anderson went off the radar a little bit, but he remained hard at work. Homesick while in London, he bought the Upton Sinclair novel "Oil!" because it had an illustration of California on its cover, and from the novel came the inspiration for an idea beyond the knowledge and first-hand experience on its pages, a screenplay which took its writer deep into the world of oil and deeper into the human psyche than he had dared to go before. It was a long struggle to complete and structure, but even when Anderson finished his script, the project required years of preparation and (because the major studios wouldn't take the risk) independent financing.

There Will Be Blood, unforgiving and masculine, is the story of possibly the most fascinating anti-hero in American cinema history, Daniel Plainview, a businessman who has spent decades in solitude plumbing the deserts of the Southwest for minerals, and finally strikes big in the small Californian town of Little Boston. Attempting to develop a silver tongue, along with his 10-year-old business partner, he makes his move to take over the town, but meets his opposition in the institutional power of religion, specifically a young preacher named Eli. Plainview has an unexplained contempt for religion and, as he thrives financially, through all the complications and troubles he maintains a stubborn, decades-long rivalry with Eli, and gradually loses what morals he may have had, in a manner that's both brutal and emotional.

As well as an evocative character study the film is also an important historical statement about pre-depression America, religious corruption and the American Dream. Released at a topical time for oil, its political importance on release was as relevant as Sinclair's novel had been eighty years previously, and begged the question: has anything changed?

Visually the film is undeniably perfect; as technically accomplished as could be expected of its expert director, and photographically clinical in a range of locations, shot sizes, depths of field, and in both light and dark:

There Will Be Blood is quite possibly the singular most groundbreaking, compelling and powerful American drama of this century so far, a cinematic triumph in every possible aspect, with landmark achievements in its direction, acting and score, and a story so thoughtfully layered that it works on multiple levels. It is so far, and in decades to come may remain Paul Thomas Anderson’s defining masterpiece.

All of Anderson's films are more character- than plot-driven, (because characters carry a much stronger human interest,) but none more so than The Master. Another period film, set in post-war America, it tells the story of Freddie Quell, a homecoming navyman who after a series of breakdowns, with serious consequences, lies low on a boat, where he meets the pompous Lancaster Dodd, pseudo-intellectual Master of newly-founded organisation The Cause. The Master recognises his guest’s vulnerability, as well as his talent, and recruits him, and the rest of the film follows their distorted and testing relationship: prone to violent outbursts and obsessed with sex and alcohol, Freddie may well be impervious to change, but The Cause appears to sympathise with him and despite his doubts he finds a certain peace of mind in being accepted.

Shot with great detail and exquisite beauty, it’s another flawless visual experience, and a film which is both formal and new-fashioned, depicting a classic style but told very loosely with a modern narrative. It’s arguably Paul Thomas Anderson’s most mature film, as well as his most indulgent: at face value it's a satire on the delusion of cult religion, it shows exactly how unstable and manipulable many young men were after the war, the lack of psychological help available and the ease with which, for example, Hubbard was able to persuade them with Scientology, but despite its strong message, for most of the film Anderson focuses on personalities and interactions rather than philosophy or even plot- he's one of the few filmmakers willing to draw fully on the power of characters, because sometimes that's enough.

Paul Thomas Anderson is one of the most important filmmakers in recent history. Since mastering his art at an extremely early age, he's been able to push himself forward with each subsequent film. All his films are cut from different cloth, none of them even come close to each other in content, but they share a common thread in quality, narrative competence and technical excellence, almost guaranteed to continue in his seventh film, Inherent Vice, which is set for a release late this year.

He's already a learned and experienced hand in Hollywood, but most importantly he's shown the desire to take it further, and attempt to unlock new methods of storytelling. Cinema has always been a matter of discovery, and the only way to keep it exciting is to continue to move it forward. What makes a completely original character? Can narrative be more than just plot and dialogue? How can music be used differently to set mood? By asking those questions Anderson continues to reach new depths in his work, and because of that he is very probably the most valuable film director of his generation. Focused, pioneering and passionate, with an impressive filmography several masterpieces strong already, he is a 21st century genius, and genuinely looks destined to become one of our greatest ever.

[Ludo*1]

Magnolia is quite easily one of the most intriguing films ever made. Storytelling at its finest and I challenge any true film buff to watch it and not be mesmerised by the characters. There Will Be Blood is a film I personally love, but I understand some people's frustrations when they say it drags on a bit. Of course, this is all part of its charm but for the casual film watcher it may not be everyone's cup of tea. That said, can only agree with Albino it was a truly groundbreaking piece of work and for those that do like the film, it usually ranks highly as one of their favourites.

ETA: The only contentious thing in Albino's write-up I'd say is that if PTA were to die tomorrow, I believe Magnolia would be the film he is most remembered by in years to come. I really don't think he'll ever be able to top that.

[Jupiter Jazz]

Agreed as is The Master. #2 on my list also, simply a genius filmmaker. Managed somehow to coax a brilliant performance out of Adam Sandler in Punch Drunk Love.

[yoda]

#1 for me. Here's why I picked him

I think he has the potential to go down as one of the true greats of cinema. I respect the guy for being an auteur and he has established his own distinct visual style over his past three films. Technically, he rivals the best ever. IMO, There Will Be Blood is his crowning glory: visually stunning and the creation of one of the best characters to have been seen on screen in the form of Daniel Plainview. Anderson has grown to become more character driven than plot driven and that represents a brave move. I could watch The Master a thousand times and still not be able to gauge my opinion on the film other than "the characters were fascinating". Boogie Nights is akin to something out of Scorsese's back catalogue and in Punch-Drunk Love he managed to get Adam Sandler to not only come across as less of a p***k, but also to come across as a genuinely talented actor. Magnolia sticks out as a weak point but every director has that one film you just can't get into.

[roverthemoon]

While Fincher and Anderson have made some remarkable films I wouldn't have put either in my top ten. I suspect its the usual phenomenon of more recent films/directors ending up higher than they probably deserve to be. Not sure that in twenty years time either would be anywhere near the top ten. Just an opinion, not a criticism as the vote is the vote.

Agree about the excellent write ups of each directors. Great work

[Albino Rover]

7. Stanley Kubrick

For a filmmaker to be considered an auteur, the theory is that their work must achieve technical perfection, their own personal creative vision and a deep, interior meaning. No film director has ever been more worthy of that accolade than Stanley Kubrick.

Shooting with natural lighting, exciting camera movement, extreme angles and wide lenses, regardless of the concept or setting he brought an atmosphere and aura of majesty into all his films. Kubrick cinema is like grand opera- the artistry and elegance of his work is unnaturally flawless in a way that we know what we're watching is not real life but deliberately on another level. He continually set new standards and in doing so broadened horizons, changing the form of cinema, and the scope of how we look at films today. He dealt with big topics, asked difficult, sometimes unanswerable questions, and took painstaking preparations to create films that wrapped those deep issues in a shell of plot and imagery, so that even the most perceptive viewer has to watch his films several times, contemplate what they've seen, think long and hard about the characters, images, events and contradictions before beginning to uncover the big idea.

Kubrick wasn't a successful academic. As an adolescent his two passions were photography and chess, a combination of technical and artistic excellence with patience and logic, which he would bring to each of his 13 films. Throughout his life he was also an obsessive perfectionist: in every possible way Kubrick set impeccable standards, over his 45 years in filmmaking he put his actors and crews through their paces every time, and got the perfect result with every film.

At 17 he got a job as a photographer for Look magazine, where he stayed for five years, during which time after much research and discussion about movies, he calculated that he could make a film for £10,000. His first filmed production was an independent documentary, Day Of The Fight, based around the career of a boxer he had interviewed at Look. After quitting his job, aged 23, he spent some time making another documentary, The Flying Padre, about a priest who had to fly a plane around New Mexico in order to preach to his large parish, and after gaining some hands-on experience Kubrick was ready to put his £10,000 theory to the test, when he was approached by a friend with a script.

The script became Fear And Desire, an allegorical story set in a forest behind enemy lines in a fictional war. The anonymous location and time allowed the film to represent of the psychology of any soldier and the loneliness and abandonment of any war. There are only five actors in the film, and some days on set Kubrick was the only member of his tiny crew present. He directed, produced, shot and edited the film, and in doing so he learned more about filmmaking than he had making documentaries, and got a lot of mistakes out of his system throughout the production.

The film got an art house distribution and despite moments of greatness, particularly one memorable scene with a female hostage, it wasn't particularly well-received, but Kubrick panned it worse than any critic, calling the whole thing "pretentious and boring", "a bumbling amateur film exercise", and likening it to “a child’s drawing on the fridge.” He would later try to destroy every copy of the film in circulation; it's believed that other than Kubrick's original print, only two copies of it remain, one of which was only discovered in 2010.

Fear And Desire was cheap to produce but it didn't make any money either, so, tight for cash, Kubrick took a job directing a documentary short entitled The Seafarers, for the Seafarers International Union, which helped fund his next planned feature. That was Killer's Kiss, a crime story told, in flashback, by a man waiting in a train station. With a much more distinct visual style and the underlying low-key mood of classic film noir, although slightly more conventional, this was a step closer to the exploratory style Kubrick wanted to develop.

His third film was another tense noir, The Killing, a dark thriller based around a horse racing heist. The criminals involved only know their own parts in the robbery, making the action a matter of trust, and as the con men prepare for the scam of the century we remain unaware what's going on, but amongst the crime plot Kubrick takes the time to show us the contrasting personal lives of the main characters, played by many typecast noir actors, explaining their motives and making us doubt whom exactly each of them is trying to con, all leading to a glitch, a fatal twist and a dramatic climax. Unravelled and photographed clinically, the film was one of the earliest displays of genius from 28-year-old Kubrick, who considered The Killing to be his first mature feature. It was a landmark film in his breakthrough to popular cinema, released in 1956 to worldwide distribution and critical praise.

After his first big hit Kubrick's distributors, MGM, offered him the chance to direct a war film, the unforgettable Paths Of Glory, which as well as capturing the horror of the front lines in World War I shamed the imperious French high command in their treatment of their own soldiers, sending an entire unit of men on a suicide mission and making examples of the objectors. The soldiers are defended only by one man, an apparent rarity: a colonel who wants the best for his men, and the ensuing tensions between ranks have drastic consequences, all leading to an emotional final scene which reminds us that soldiers are still men, in war and peace. The courage and power of Paths Of Glory can still be appreciated 57 years on, but equally as striking is Kubrick's presentation of the drama- the sharp black-and-white cinematography and masterful placement and movement of the camera were more ambitious and emphatic still in a perfectly-directed film.

Paths Of Glory was a resounding hit, and it was its star who helped Kubrick get his next job. After Anthony Mann's sacking at the beginning of production, Kirk Douglas, as producer, hired Kubrick to take the reins of his first epic; a story of a hero, persecuted and enslaved, but empowered by his physical and moral strength enough to inspire a revolution. It was released in a time of many Biblical/Roman epics, but Spartacus offered more than swords and sandals.

With an examination of Roman aristocracy, the Senate and the complexities of the powerful antagonists as well as following the main character and his story, Kubrick offered an ideological and emotional aspect that ran beneath the spectacle and gave Spartacus a depth and realism unseen in most other films of its genre. Kubrick's well-directed action sequences stunned audiences and the moral revolution against the corrupt upper classes drew a strong sense of sympathy, but the plight of Spartacus also draws parallels to the American slave story, which was a relevant piece of history for Americans to consider at the time, and perhaps most refreshingly the film offered an unconventional ending: a conclusion that's tragic but still offers a degree of hope and optimism.

Star-studded, told on a huge scale and filmed in the three-strip Technicolor format, everything about the film was epic. In fact, at the time of release Spartacus was the most expensive production made in America, and it quickly became the biggest ever box-office hit, but despite the new-found success, and partly to avoid the increasing Hollywood producer pressure, Kubrick made a decision to move to the UK, and would live here for the rest of his life.

He set to work straight away on his next project, an adaptation of Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita, a strange, sick noir in which a man, in love with a 14-year-old girl (an upgrade on the 12-year-old in the book), hatches a wicked plan to marry her mother and adopt her. As dramatic and humorous as it was controversial, Lolita was and still is subject to mixed opinions. Some see truth beyond the controversy, some just get hung up on the weirdness of it all, but no one can deny the film's mysterious genius. Some consider Lolita more of a comedy than a drama but that point became harder to argue when Kubrick indulged his sense of humour with his seventh feature film.

Dr. Strangelove Or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb is not only an all-time classic, but possibly Kubrick's bravest film. Released at a time when the nuclear bomb was considered a genuine threat, this film was the first to dare to make light of it, and in doing so, for better or worse, it shook the world.

It's a comedy of manners, combining farce and slapstick with satire, word play, contradiction and paradox, all set in the hysteria and madness of Cold War paranoia, but powered by its eccentric characters. Silly, sarcastic and sardonic, Dr. Strangelove is one of Kubrick's best-loved and most ionic pictures- a frantic story, told in real time, which immerses us in the heat of the situation so fantastically that by the end of the film the idea of learning to Love The Bomb seems almost genuine, and the idea of destroying the Earth conjures a strangely beautiful image.

After Strangelove Kubrick took a much longer break from filmmaking than he had done previously, rather than jumping into his next project secretively scaling up, entrusted by his American financiers, who after a few years themselves became anxious about what exactly Kubrick was doing in England, with a big budget and no movie stars. In 1968 came the answer, a monumental film which uncovered a road never explored before. A road from the dawn of man, through evolution, discovery, innovation, artificial intelligence, exploration, imagination and beyond, into a world unknown.

2001: A Space Odyssey begins with man's earliest discovery in his most primitive form,

then embarks on a great quest, a true odyssey through time and space, adventuring through its visual phenomena:

and trying to find some kind of human meaning at the end of it all.

2001 is not only a thrilling space adventure but at its heart a transcendental and meditative examination of life in all its forms. Visionary and beautiful in all its ideas, original imagery and special effects, it inspires everyone who sees it, and from its release has become not only one of the most important and influential films of all time but a source of universal fascination and infinite wonder. Thousands of children who saw 2001 immediately wanted to become astronauts, some were inspired to be artists. It gives its viewer a gift: an urge to explore and create, and a reminder that anything is possible. One of Kubrick’s mentees described it as the “big bang” of his generation.

2001 is, of course, a super-production and a masterpiece, but it left Kubrick a predicament in that it was a tough, nigh on impossible act to follow. He had an idea in mind: throughout his career he had a great interest in Napoleon I, and throughout the 1960s he had kept working on a script for a biographical film. The project could have gone ahead but for the timing- Kubrick's project coincided with the release of Waterloo, which wasn't a great financial success, and this put the major studios off from backing the film. While looking for a new project, Kubrick had been given a copy of Anthony Burgess' A Clockwork Orange, a borderline prophetic imagination of the idea of crime and punishment in a violent future society, where unruly youths revolt for pleasure, and mind control and brainwashing are being developed as criminal deterrents. It struck a chord with Kubrick straight away- he was very interested by the book's social and political statements and its anti-institutional message and so, with a few tweaks, some of his greatest visual mastery and some of the most memorable uses of his trademark familiar classical music, he created a very faithful adaptation the novel for the screen.

The film's anti-hero, now an icon of '70s popular culture, is one of Kubrick's most complex and original characters: Alex DeLarge is intelligent, looked-after at home and able to seduce women with ease, yet he joins his delinquent Droogs at night to burgle, assault and rape, with smiles on their faces and without a glimmer of remorse. A Clockwork Orange generated two long-lasting ideas: of a criminal underworld and of a state-controlled public, both of which, although fictional, have remained relevant since the film's release, and although parts of society and authority weren't ready for the film at the time, it has become one of the longest-lasting cult classics of the 1970s.

A Clockwork Orange also acted as something of a fundraiser, because Kubrick had thought he might need to partly self-finance his next film. Actually, with so many hits under his belt he received full financial backing, for a project bigger, and in a way riskier still, a beautiful epic, Barry Lyndon.

Set across 18th century Europe, Barry Lyndon tells the tale of a fictional Irish adventurer whose social and family circumstances lead him to various escapades and adventures in several countries. The story is told in a unique, patient style, but most importantly about the film is its spellbinding visual achievement. Practically every shot was designed to match the neoclassical and romantic art of the period, and with much use of Kubrick's trademark slow zoom and, miraculously, several indoor scenes lit entirely by candlelight, it has been accepted as one of the most daringly elegant and beautiful films ever made:

This film is astonishing in its beauty. It's long, but Barry Lyndon rewards and inspires with every shot.

By this time Kubrick no longer felt compelled or obliged to conform to any expectations, and answered only to himself. He was financially secure personally, as well as being so consistently successful and such a safe pair of hands that getting studio financing was no longer a problem, so he was free to take his time at all stages in the game and set about making the films he wanted to make, in his own style. He had earned that luxury.

He didn't return to screens until five years later, with The Shining, an unsettling film, disturbing and hallucinogenic, which terrified audiences and reinvented the horror as an art form, with a very complex and ambitious visual package. Just as 2001 changed the future of special effects, and Barry Lyndon achieved the impossible in set lighting, The Shining was a pioneering film, and remains a prime example of the use of the Steadicam. There was no shortage, either, of big-budget shots of pure horror that took an entire day to film (see trailer).

The story, of course, follows a writer and his family who gradually go mad during a winter in a stately hotel, under a supernatural influence. Spooky and eerie in the build-up as cabin fever slowly sets in, The Shining keeps a precise balance of shock and suspense, creeping up each corridor but leaving no shortage of scares around every corner. It wasn't a massive immediate success but has now been appreciated and accepted across the board as one of the most effective horror films ever made.

Vietnam has been one of the most inspirational wars on American cinema: it was interpreted in film as it was going on, with a later wave beginning after the war, in the late seventies, and another resurgence in the mid-eighties. After seven years without releasing a film Kubrick, having handled the Roman servile rebellion, WWI and the Cold War, returned to the genre with his unique interpretation of the conflict.

Full Metal Jacket is an experimental war film like no other. Told in two distinct sections, it takes the time to introduce its characters as men, and then follow them on a downward journey. In the first half of the film we see a platoon of Privates' heads shaved, muscles overworked and souls crushed as we experience the drills, insults and unique trauma of their training on Parris Island, before following some of them in the thick of battle. With a bizarre placement of comedy and popular culture amongst the violence and horror it's another Kubrick film which bases itself on contradiction: Full Metal Jacket packs an element of surprise as well as a complex moral compass, but the focus throughout remains on the men who are turned into killing machines, and the different ways they are influenced by America's lost war.

After making only two films per decade in the '70s and '80s Kubrick only made one in the '90s.

Twelve years after his previous release, he completed a profound, strange and utterly Kubrickian film called Eyes Wide Shut. An intimate epic, from its opening shot it's naked in its honesty and openness: the plot begins very naturally with a wealthy married couple who attend a party and later get into an heated conversation, which aggravates the man and sets him off on a journey through the sexual underworld of New York, feeding his curiosity but coming in contact with increasing danger, highlighted by edgy music, an unusual atmospheric tension and a hypnotic, dream-like quality as the content seems to go beyond reality, particularly during a key scene in an out-of-town mansion. As well as bringing out a sense of mystery about the secret lives of those who walk among us, the film takes us deep into the mind of the protagonist, forcing us to consider the same moral questions he asks himself.

Eyes Wide Shut is an experiential film; an up-close examination of love and marriage, sex, trust, jealousy, insecurity, honesty and dealing with the temptations and unwelcome truths that we encounter on a day-to-day basis.

Stanley Kubrick finished the film early in 1999, and died of a heart attack only a few weeks later. He believed it was his greatest contribution to cinema, that rare thing: a genuinely thoughtful and original film, which challenges reality and surpasses genre and classification, that could only be born from the mind of a time-honoured genius, and which completed his catalogue of extraordinary films, of which almost every one has become a classic.

No other director has ever been so relentless and ambitious in making such a number of masterpieces quite so distant from each other. Each Kubrick film stands individually, every one is a unique work of art, designed and crafted to perfection. Kubrick's knowledge of cameras, lenses and lighting was encyclopaedic, his use of them was possibly the best there's ever been, but on top of that he shot his films with a style that was purposeful, intense and stunning. A master of images, a grandmaster of cinema, with an ever-changing style that still flies in the face of every modern convention, Stanley Kubrick created films which have lived through generations, kept all of their sharpness, style and philosophy, and remain as relevant and effective to audiences today as they were to the generations that first saw them.

One great director said: "We are all the children of D.W. Griffith and Stanley Kubrick." - both were not only massively influential filmmakers but necessary innovators in the creation of the art form we see today, and just as Griffith gave cinematic language its grammar, Kubrick was its first visionary poet.

[WhiteRoseKillie]

Excellent write-up again, AR, of yet another from my long list who didn't make the cut. It's beginning to look as if, had we submitted our best 25, only the order would change from the final roll - with a few exceptions. Spartacus, FMJ, A Clockwork Orange The Shining and 2001 all mark him out as something special, although the last two aren't quite to my taste. The Shining, while a cracking film, isn't the Shining I read, and so suffers for me.

But again, cracking write-up, good to see another big gun coming up, and on with the motley!

[Henrik's tongue]

The Shining, while a cracking film, isn't the Shining I read, and so suffers for me.

I agree with this and for what it's worth, so does Stephen King. King acknowledges Kubrick's genuis and admits the film is visually stunning, but says himself it's not The Shining he wrote. He thought the casting of Jack Nicholson was all wrong too. The story is supposed to be largely about Jack's descent into madness - but audiences just looked at him and thought "Oh look, it's the mad guy from One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest" according to King.

King has since revealed some stories about Kubrick's strangeness too. He apparently phoned Stephen King from the UK during filming - without taking into account the time difference (it was 3am in Maine) just to ask him if he believed in God.

Having said that, King's remake of The Shining which stayed more faithful to the book, was absolutely shite

Another great write up by the way, AR.

[Ludo*1]

Henrik's tongue, on 17 May 2014 - 09:48, said:

I agree with this and for what it's worth, so does Stephen King. King acknowledges Kubrick's genuis and admits the film is visually stunning, but says himself it's not The Shining he wrote. He thought the casting of Jack Nicholson was all wrong too. The story is supposed to be largely about Jack's descent into madness - but audiences just looked at him and thought "Oh look, it's the mad guy from One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest" according to King.

King has since revealed some stories about Kubrick's strangeness too. He apparently phoned Stephen King from the UK during filming - without taking into account the time difference (it was 3am in Maine) just to ask him if he believed in God.

Having said that, King's remake of The Shining which stayed more faithful to the book, was absolutely shite

Another great write up by the way, AR.

Disagree with that and King. Both the book and the film are utterly fantastic. Jack Nicholson is simply superb in the film. The story contains a lot of the supernatural, which can't be explained with merely Torrance's 'descent into madness'. The film, however, captures this perfectly and each scene highlights a trigger that furthers his descent. In the film there are only two instances that can't be explained. One is the ending and the other is how he is unlocked from the food storage container.

King's one of my favourite authors, but his criticisms of Kubrick are absolutely ridiculous. Yes, it wasn't exactly faithful but I don't think Kubrick ever intended it to be - He had his own story to tell.

For what it's worth, King's sequel to The Shining, Doctor Sleep is absolutely rank.

The fact that King still mumps and moans about Kubrick more than 30 years after the film was released is embarrassing. One of the few instances in which the film is better than the book. The film is one of the only films going that can be watched over and over again and something new can be discovered with each viewing.

[yoda]

Stephen King is an arsehole though, an arsehole with a dreadful writing style. Kubrick, on the other hand, was a genius. I much prefer Kubrick's take on The Shining to King's.

Excellent write-up, as per, and I had Kubrick in my top 10. His ability to successfully transcend genres is remarkable, and there is a compelling argument that suggests he hasn't made a weak film. A true visionary director and he deserves his place in the top 10.

[Rabbi Williams]

Reading that makes me want to get my head checked for not putting Kubrick in my list!!! A true great.

[tongue_tied_danny]

I agree with this and for what it's worth, so does Stephen King. King acknowledges Kubrick's genuis and admits the film is visually stunning, but says himself it's not The Shining he wrote.

It's quite interesting that Anthony Burgess also disapproved of Kubrick's version of A Clockwork Orange. I personally enjoyed the book and the film equally, despite the differences. Maybe these writers should get over themselves and stop being so precious about their work.

[Co.Down Hibee]

Full Metal Jacket is an amazing film, one of those films you have to watch when it's on, never liked aclockwork Orange much ,I suppose it may need another viewing but personally lost interest in it after the first "shock"scene.

incidentally still none of my 10 listed yet....