Catherine Hardwicke hit one out of the park for female directors this past weekend, but she had a lot of help. Not only was she working with a pre-sold property, she also had a very manageable budget of $37 million. Quite different from the $2 million she had to work with on Thirteen a few years back. Of course, she had similar budgets on Lords of Dogtown ($25 million) and The Nativity Story ($35 million), and both were box office disappointments. Still, she’s going to keep on being trusted with more money — if Summit is smart they’ll keep her on for at least the first Twilight sequel, which will surely come with a higher price tag — and as long as she continues with genre films, she’s sure to remain a profitable director.
Not every talented filmmaker does well with more money. Danny Boyle, for instance, typically bombs with bigger budgets. And a lot of foreign auteurs strike out when handed costly studio-produced genre or franchise pics (Jeunet’s Alien Resurrection is a favorite example). But there’s the occasional filmmaker who, like Steven Soderbergh or Christopher Nolan, can make something worthwhile out of any budget they’re allotted. And then there are the many indie filmmakers who quickly find themselves at home with modestly priced broad comedies, such as the case with Seth Gordon easily transitioning from the Slamdance doc The King of Kong to the star-studded Hollywood holiday pic Four Christmases, out this week.
Who will be the next small-scale filmmaker to successfully rise up and prove him or herself worthy of bigger budgets? SpoutBlog has selected five directors we’d like to see given an economic boost, each because he or she would likely deliver something more interesting and popular than the usual Hollywood product.
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There’s always a moment of anticipation, of bristling, silent dread, in the great films about catastrophe. The bustle and noise of a film’s expository passages recede. Some of the house lights go out. A hush falls– and maybe even the crickets stop cricking. Don Delillo’s classic postmodern novel White Noise, far from a popcorn page-turner, nevertheless captured this sensation well: a prestigious college town menaced by a toxic cloud on its outskirts. We experience a grim awakening to distinctly modern terrors from the p-o-v of an insecure middle-aged professor and his over-educated, chatterbox family. Taunted by their equally motormouthed TV sets, this egghead clan reasons and dissembles its way around panic about as efficiently as a laborer shoring up a levee with paper towels.
Last week I witnessed a lot of folks reaching for the paper towels in New York City. At my day job, well-heeled co-workers and superiors fretted over their investments in the wake of a careening stock market but quickly cheered themselves up by noting that the financial panic was good for our company’s business (no, not pharmaceuticals or pawn brokerage). There was casual talk of pulling vast sums out of banks and stashing cash at home– then rumors about criminals, wise to this practice, going on burglary sprees in upscale neighborhoods. There was a lot of good humor, but it was definitely gallows humor.
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Who would have thought, in 2006, when Old Joy spent a year slowly gathering critical steam after having been all but ignored at Sundance, that Kelly Reichardt’s next film would occasion an item in PEOPLE Magazine? “Michelle Williams Dazzles at Cannes Film Festival,” goes the headline of the story by Brenda Rodriguez. Last night’s Wendy & Lucy red carpet was the first that the actress walked since the death of former partner Heath Ledger, and for the tabloids that’s a major hook. Looking down from the balcony last night at the Debussy, it was a trip to watch the Chanel-clad former Dawson’s Creek star stand on the stage at one end of a line that included Reichardt, Old Joy/Wendy & Lucy producer Anish Savjani, and filmmaker/Wendy & Lucy producer and co-star Larry Fessenden.
When a film this small gets thrust under a spotlight this bright, you worry that the movie itself will be overwhelmed. I do hope this unlikely attention helps Wendy & Lucy get seen, but coming in with high expectations(Old Joy was one of my favorite films of its year), I was a bit underwhelmed.
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In the new issue of Entertainment Weekly, Mark Harris declares that sci-fi movies are in trouble, that they’re not giving us any new ideas and are in fact too nostalgic and derivative. Harris himself is saying nothing new — Blade Runner director Ridley Scott expertly stated this last summer at the Venice Film Festival — but I applaud his solution and his call for someone to rise to the occasion and save the genre from itself:
Perhaps science fiction needs to be saved from the very people who love it the most. Nostalgia for a form can be annihilating to creativity, so while its devotees are swamped in their own canon, trying to mine now-sacred texts for any new material, I wish a great writer or director with no particular affection for the genre would let his imagination loose and see what it yields. It happened 40 years ago, when Stanley Kubrick, following his own ice-cold muse and his fascination with science itself, decided he wanted to create something that ”extended the range of science fiction,” a genre that didn’t particularly impress him. What nerve! The result was 2001: A Space Odyssey, which changed the game so completely that in movies, the sci-fi genre immediately vanished for a few years while everyone surveyed an irrevocably altered landscape.
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