Let's be clear on one thing: a director is nothing without a script. Part of being a director means you have to be able to find, buy, or write a great script. No script, no movie. Although far too many movies are greenlighted without a script—most movies, actually. It's one of the flaws in our current system: movies get made that never should have got made. Think of it: a shitty movie costs millions of dollars to make, and these head-in-the-sand producers who don't know the difference between a film script and toilet paper, will greenlight a movie with a director who is so desperate to become a director that she will do anything to become one, even direct a shitty movie. But there's a difference between making a beginner's movie and making a shitty movie. Hard Eight is a beginner's movie—but it's a great movie and it shows people who matter that this is a director worth rolling the dice on. If you make Hard Eight, the chances are huge that your next movie will be even bigger. Smart people see that. Your two-million dollar horror flick that your shithole film school buddy wrote and that your girlfriend financed and that your own friends can't even sit through without laughing—that's going to be the last movie you direct, my friend. It's like Eminem says, you've got one shot. Right? So, a little bit of striving is a good thing in this business. A lot of striving can kill you—but a lot of striving is even better. If you never shoot for the moon, you'll never hit it.
Without a great script you'll never have a great movie. Exceptions: Titanic. Great story, horrible dialogue, great acting..equals..maybe not a great movie, but..well..yes..a great movie. Because it pulls your heartstrings. Because it's enthusiastic. Because it presents optimism and pessimism or really survival and demise in tight juxtaposition to one another. But the casting is spotty..I mean all the main actors are perfect, but then James Cameron casts Bill Paxton?? Bill Paxton is a terrible actor. But a terrible actor, or a mediocre actor, can be great under certain circumstances..typically the circumstance of a great director. Bill Paxton in A Simple Plan. Tom Cruise directed by P.T. Anderson or Stanley Kubrick..see..it's not so simple as saying someone's a terrible actor.
You know the best definition I've ever heard of intelligence? It has nothing to do with IQ. It's a person placed in a situation in which their particular skills are useful. Right? My plumber is fucking brilliant when the toilet's backed up! So don't think of intelligence as the quality of an individual. It's a quality of a team, or the marriage of a particular person to a particular project. Was Ernest Hemingway brilliant? When he was writing books he was. With a fifth of vodka in one hand and a shotgun in the other..well..you decide.
I read Kristi's script a second time.
Then I poke her in the butt with my toe.
"You wanna go to Lauren Pritchett's film school?"
Kristi lowers her phone.
"Sure!"
I jump up.
"The first thing is there will be no grades in this class!"
Kristi claps.
"Unfortunately," I say, "when I presented this idea to the unfortunate college you have decided to attend and which I have unfortunately decided to teach at, these geniuses who run this house of education said that you can't have a class without grades and I said You fucking fools."
"You fucking fools," Kristi echoes.
"You fucking morons. I'm pretty sure I quoted something from Mamet whose curse-to-word ratio was maybe a point nine. So this committee of elders who a) do not attend college and b) do not teach college told me—I mean, I'm sorry, forgive the ego—but these motherfuckers told me that I have to give you each a grade."
Kristi says, "Boo.."
"We discussed this for minutes. Minutes! Minutes I could have spent drinking a venti mocha or having my clitoris licked by Martin Scorsese—god, I wish that man could grow a mustache. What do you think is Scorsese's greatest film?"
"Taxi Driver!"
Kristi slides over on the couch to be a different student.
"The Departed!"
"Fuck you The Departed."
She slides back.
"The Departed? It's Raging Bull, no question. Everyone says Goodfellas, and yes, in terms of shot logic, Goodfellas is great—I mean truly great. One of the best camera-movement directors of the Americans. Who is the greatest camera movement director of all time?"
"Spike Lee."
"That's a great answer. The park shot in Malcolm X—one of the greatest shots in film history. I've seen that shot at least a hundred times. You—you think I'm exaggerating? Don't you do that? Order fucking mad subs and pizza and cartons of Kamel Reds and pop in a bit of the old Orville Redenbacher and just sit in the living room with all your film friends watching a movie shot by shot or watching the same shot a hundred times and everyone shouts out everything they notice about it?"
Kristi says, "You're fabulous."
I say, "That's what you've got to do, Padawan learners. Obsession is a good trait in this business. The shot that establishes the club segment of 25th Hour..a steadicam operator on a crane, the crane arcs around the club building and the steadicam operator steps off the crane and the shot continues! That's a shot. I don't care how much pot he smokes, Spike Lee will always be a great director."
"Have you ever met him?"
"Of course."
"How many times?"