Defining confident film direction

October 2, 2022 11:55 PM

I sometimes see reviews for movies that extol the director's "confident direction." In a short review of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, for example, is this: "There’s George Roy Hill’s confident direction...." When you, as someone in the film industry or who is a dedicated film buff, think of "confident direction," what does this mean to you? Is there a difference between being a technically competent or even skilled director and a confident director?
posted by bryon to Media & Arts (11 answers total)

I found this interesting article for budding film directors from a search on this: Directing a Film - a confidence trick. - the writer talks about the vast number of issues that a director must be aware and make decisions on on-set. As with the cooking of an elaborate meal - a lot of these decisions are time critical: crew and actors and location all have their golden moment then run into technical problems or fatigue. The problem is how to co-ordinate all this in the knowledge that multiple takes are going to be necessary. The director is in charge of co-ordinating several departments who all believe they are the most important - so not just judgement but an air of authority, is important.

Faced with all these difficulties, it is particularly important for a director to give a good impression of being confident - even when inside they may not be. That comes partly from having developed a directing track record - and partly from being able "fake it to you make it".

A lot of that competence and confidence will not be visible to the viewer or reviewer - instead it will be picked up in term of the film working to budget and production deadline; and by the editors having the material they need. However the one element where it can be seen in the final result, I guess: is in the performance of the actors. I would say a "confidently directed" film is one where all the actors - not just the major roles - appear to be giving a great performance. A confident director knows when a scene needs only 1 take - and when it requires 10.
posted by rongorongo at 1:24 AM on October 3, 2022

It's a bit of a subjective notion but the idea is that you can see the style of the director on screen, that feels like their own, and this isn't just in eliciting performance but also in juggling the numerous elements on screen. It's that ease of juggling that movie buffs and critics feel that they can detect. This is especially if they are aware who else is in the production -- is the cinematographer also someone well-known to have their own artistic language? What about the actors? How about the screenwriter? The Social Network for example was clearly a David Fincher movie even as the cadences of Aaron Sorkin's writing was clear as day, even as the score was not a genre typical to him (even as it later became a genre-defining riff -- anything that has a sense of disquiet about social media breaks out those TSN notes). In short, critiques will make the case they can detect that despite the singular talents assembled the director was able to command them well to make a cohesive movie. It (the movie) knew where it needed to go and what it needed to do to get there.

Yes, it's quite subjective. But it's not just a matter of making a decently paced movie. That's when you'll get descriptions like "their workmanlike direction". So in that ease of juggling, there's also a flair. But the director never gets lost in the mix.
posted by cendawanita at 1:45 AM on October 3, 2022

When I hear that phrase I think of a director making a choice that in other circumstances might undermine what is happening in the particular shot, but in the precise context of this point in the movie, it works. So choices that might be considered risky like breaking the 180 rule or something. It's a rule for a reason, so if you're going to break it, you'd better have confidence that you know what you're doing.
posted by juv3nal at 1:45 AM on October 3, 2022 [6 favorites]

I also gave some thought on what kind of illustrative examples to use, and the first caveat is that this is a subjective assessment, and depends as well on who's reviewing. Because what looks like confidence may be merely consistent to another. One style of direction might look confident in one medium but entirely lazy or unsuited in another (I'm thinking about The Producers on stage vs the movie adaptation). (I mean, Ebert didn't think much of Butch Cassidy... and found it slow and bloated). Essentially, it's a comment on the level of understanding one detects from the director in terms of the medium they're working in. Generally, people applaud a sense of being concise even in a maximalist manner.

Some examples:
- knowing how to deliver story information from the mise-en-scene without just depending on delivered dialogue.

- knowing which of the actor performance is best-suited for which angle:
-- supposedly in Wrath of Khan, Shatner's performance is considered amongst his best, but apparently the key here was the director tiring him out with multiple takes so he began to move away from that early tv/theatre performance which is very specific to a looser 'natural' delivery that played better in the 1980s.

--But also in TSN, Fincher's multiple takes was not just to break the more formally trained actors of their mannerisms but also, with his close shots, to get the cameras to pick up the micro-expressions.

-- For Butch Cassidy ... it's also how the director was using Redford's and Newman's RL fame at the time to inform the audience of their characters' aura without having to do a lot of in-movie work to establish it. But considering the behind the scenes story of the production, the reviewer could also be making a comment on how well the movie was finally made despite the production length.

- The ability to showcase finesse in an unusual genre or technological innovation:
-- people complain about the MCU style because a lot of the first-time indie directors they give a chance to were suddenly having to manage an entirely new slate of toolbox and skillset which tends to leave them dependent on the asst director team and the MCU house style while they try to deliver a movie on budget and on time, so it gets really apparent when you have directors who could master it well enough for their big-budget comicbook debut (e.g. Coolidge for Black Panther; the Russos for Winter Soldier)

-- for BC&TSK, it's also probably because how well the action montage (which was done on location) was executed, which was quite 'classic' to a genre that would eventually see a decline in popularity plus the combination with a really contemporary dialogue that was purposefully modern. Perhaps the review found the handling of the two elements refreshing or at least it didn't feel like one got lost as the director could handle the mix.

- and when one breaks the rule, it makes sense. Like, I can intellectually understand what Branagh was trying to do with the dutch angles in the first Thor movie, but I still think it was unnecessary and dumb and didn't fit the intent of the narrative.
posted by cendawanita at 2:12 AM on October 3, 2022 [6 favorites]

[There will be some spoilers in what follows.] My subjective take:

Think of two people with the same mission: one comes into the room and says, "Hey, guys. Guys? Um. I'm going to ask you to do something for me. This is really important. I'll explain why later. When I walk back out the door, can all of you do the same? Just go where I go. Okay?"

The second just walks into the room, says, "Follow me," turns, and leaves.

That, to me, projects confidence: "Never apologize; never explain." It's simple and to the point, but with the expectation that the listeners will keep up, because "Follow me" is all the information they need.

The clearest movie example I can think of is the famous jump cut in "2001." Kubrick wanted to tell the story of how the first weapon (a bone club in the hand of a pre-human) led to all future civilization and technology. Think of how most directors would handle this complicated idea? Maybe with a voice-over explaining it; maybe with a series of images (people carrying bronze age spears, medieval archers, WWI bayonets ...), etc.) Kubrick did none of that. He just cut from the bone to a spacecraft, using the unique power of cinema to make a simple, take-no-prisoners statement.

Famously, he left some viewers behind. That's what happens when you use that kind of economy without any redundancy or exposition. But the movie feels like it's made by someone who simply accepts that. "Okay, the folks who can keep up will keep up; the folks who can't, can't."

There's a scene in G.W. Pabst's 1929 silent film, "Pandora's Box" in which Louise Brook's character is giving testimony in a trial. We've gotten to know her character, so we get what her legal stance is. In movie, we see her talking at length to the judge, with no title cards. Pabst's choice suggests "You don't need to hear her words. You know what she's saying. Just watch the acting." It's a very different sort of scene from the one Kubrick would film 40 years later, but it flexes the same muscles. "Tell the audience just enough, nothing more, and let them keep up."

The confidence behind these moves is "I know the minimum the audience needs in order to draw the right conclusions, and they will if they're playing attention. And if they're aren't, that's not my problem." It not isn't a desire to confuse the audience. It's a desire to avoid pandering. It's also a love of and trust in cinema. The more you over-explain, the more what you're making starts to resemble a stage play.

It stands in stark contrast to the majority of films--even many that are good in lots of ways--that seem to be made by people thinking, "But ... but what if someone is watching it while cooking dinner, and they look away from the screen for a minute to stir the soup? What then? They'll be confused. We'd better explain things several times!" The confident director shrugs says, "Okay, if they're confused, they're confused. Maybe next time wait until you're done with your chores before watching my movie."

Another sort of confidence (but in a way, the same sort) is evident throughout Chantal Akerman's 1975 movie "Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles," which follows a middled-aged woman through several days of her seemingly ordinary life. When she does the dishes, Dielman shows the entire process. You sit and watch every dish get washed. Akeman seems to be saying, "You're bored? Too bad. This is what my movie is about: the life of a woman who washes every single dish."
posted by grumblebee at 4:47 AM on October 3, 2022 [17 favorites]

I tend to think of "confident direction" as having a distinctive style right out of the gate, but also being competent at traditional film language and not super experimental--so, somebody like Rian Johnson or Robert Eggers. Obviously it IS subjective, but it's that combination of a) obviously knowing what they're doing in a technical sense and b) having faith in their own particular aesthetics and quirks at the same time that I'd describe as confident.
posted by Nibbly Fang at 5:15 AM on October 3, 2022 [1 favorite]

To me it suggests a real clarity of vision. I like the juggling metaphor. Some movies fall short of being classics because the general point of the movie feels muddled , or the actors don’t seem to be on the same page, or it feels like the movie is trying to do too many different things. Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing is a perfect example of confident direction. It’s juggling a lot of complicated stuff but it feels like he made exactly the movie he wanted to make, with no compromises, and it works beautifully.
posted by cakelite at 7:56 AM on October 3, 2022

juv3nal's take seems the most likely to me. I think a director's confidence on-set with actors and crew can definitely percolate into the quality of the finished product, but I think what they're referring to is a director who takes risks with framing/timing/lighting/pacing and other elements that pay off rather than hewing strictly to traditional filmmaking conventions.
posted by under_petticoat_rule at 9:02 AM on October 3, 2022 [1 favorite]

One way I think of this is on a scale of:

Edited <-------|-------> Directed

Did the stuff in the movie happen in an economic number of camera shots, with longer continuous scenes and fewer cuts or insertions? Or was it pieced together in an editing console, potentially from multiple takes or with cover footage or cutaways inserted? This isn't to say that a director can't also be a strong editor or that such an editing style can't be a directorial choice, but the more a movie seems like a play (with all the actors in the same place at the same time, reacting to each other in real time), the more likely I am to think of that as strong direction.

This isn't a hard and fast rule for me: sometimes cuts are clearly a directorial choice, but also maybe that's true more often when the director is also the editor (e.g. Coen Brothers, who edit their films as Roderick Jaynes) or when busy cuts are used to insert more detail (e.g. Steven Soderbergh, who has edited his own movies, credited as Mary Ann Bernard, but has also collaborated at least six times with the editor Stephen Mirrione).

In the specific example of "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," part of the magic of that movie is just giving the actors time and space to let stuff happen. It's a movie that doesn't seem directed except in retrospect, which is a really strong directorial choice, and a contrast to, say, Soderbergh, who never lets you forget he's controlling what you see (and what you don't).

And sometimes a director's choices seem more like a stunt, cf. "The Hateful Eight," where Tarantino used an ultra wide camera to film a bunch of actors in a small room. You can make the argument that this was a confident choice, but you could also say that the movie maybe suffered a bit for its adherence to style.
posted by fedward at 9:36 AM on October 3, 2022 [2 favorites]

I would say a confidently directed film shows an abundance of creative and specific directorial choices, in terms of performances, camera placement, sequencing, etc.
posted by Artifice_Eternity at 12:06 PM on October 3, 2022

I would add that it adds to an assessment of confidence when it feels like the film is of a piece - that one person was ultimately, if not solely, responsible for the creative choices.

Many things discussed here are more immediately the territory of the cinematographer, or the assistant director, or the editor — but they are supposed to do what the director says. And if the director does not exert control, then a scene won't work because the shots the DP prepared don't match the prep the AD did. Directors have many roles, but one of them is harmonizing these creative elements. And when they come together that role is visible in the result.

You can see the opposite in (although I enjoy many of them) Marvel films. These often have multiple directors and sub-directors, and it may seem like the action scenes could be from a totally different movie than the domestic scenes. That's probably because they basically were! The production of those two kinds of scenes was about as different as making two different films, and it shows. Frequently you can pinpoint the exact shot someone else took over.

On the other hand, a movie that just popped into my head is "The Yellow Sea," a Korean film by Na Hong-Jin, which has the full gamut of situations but every piece feels like it's a different part of the same film, and that gives even familiar scenes or situations a new flavor.
posted by BlackLeotardFront at 2:50 PM on October 3, 2022