There is a certain moment as artists we all aim for, consciously or not, in our respective fields. A leap in quality and emotion that cannot be found per se, but only arrived at by letting go of conscious motive then started upon by a place on a road and, further, nurtured and sought after. This mysterious destination, and the trek that naturally ensues, is what separates art from, say, routine work—whatever that may entail. However, one might argue, even the routine can be turned into a work of art. If the artisan himself know his trade and will himself in spirit, let's say. In Hip Hop this might be called “freestyling” and the equivalent in Rock would likely be “jamming,” I suppose. With painters it is a bit more obvious and can clearly be observed in the studio, whatever constitutes a studio for them (open flat or their own bedroom), as they simply free themselves into canvas. In life this phenomenon could be understood as “living in the moment” or improvising, and cinema unequivocally is no exception. Some of the greatest films were deliberate constructions of their makers simply flying by the seat of their director's chairs; to use a very ludicrous idiom.
To become a successful artist, whichever medium you might long for, it seems inherent to "do your research;" that is, to know who came before you and attempt to deconstruct and understand their achievements, techniques, failures and promising attempts that never were. Only then can you truly understand where you stand, your place in greater scheme of legends and heroes, and where you might tread—trail-blazed—next. But it is not enough to simply assimilate and regurgitate what already has been well established and revered:to fully accomplish the deed of what we call art you must use the tools and techniques at hand, find some new ones if possible, and transcend them with your own voice. And that voice must be genuine. As in, genuinely yours.
Perhaps the greatest example of this aesthetic transcendentalism in the last fifty years is the French New Wave film movement, and its very enduring brainchild, the Auteur Cinema; or the Auteur Theory. The theory ascribes that the director of a film guides an invisible hand in the camera much as an artist might stroke a brush. There are many influences as to the origin of Auteur Cinema, but, regardless of its genetic heritage in emulsion, it remains one of the most influential theories despite being over fifty years old (Wikipedia Auteur Theory).
The theory began with the French New Wave in the mid '50s and it is not known if its origins reach even further than the progenitors in Cahiers du Cinéma, with critics like André Bazin and Jean Luc Goddard. But some theorize its development has origins all the way back to such free spirited, American oldies like Maltese Falcon or Citizen Kane (Wikipedia Auteur). It is possible with the end of Vichy France, and all the occupied territories during World War II, the aforementioned films and others like it were finally shown and subsequently lauded for their subtextual commentary and, perhaps, friskiness. The French were so used to overly censored films that the grit and autonomy posed by John Huston and Orson Welles likely surged them with creativity (Wikipedia Theory). Possible. But regardless of this intriguing legend, the French, without a doubt, were Auteur’s biggest advocates and practitioners.
The rhetoric behind Auteur Theory itself describes motion pictures as placing the director as the most influential role within the filmmaking process. One of its most indispensable tenets is the mise en scène, supposedly a literal translation of "putting on stage,"which is likely the most cryptic of theories ever posed in any art form and widely disputed in all its fields, the least of which is film. But perhaps one 'college try' on its definition is 'how it is done," essentially how a film was made; i.e., what techniques a crew employed (studio or location), what kind of equipment used (35 film or Cinerama 65), what type of actors (character or method) and what was the final expression in product (jumpy edits or smooth continuity). A director employs these maxims to become the final and most important “auteur,” or author, in the film’s overall structure, look and attitude (Wikipedia Mise en Scène).
This applies to all segments amongst the production process, including pre, in, and postproduction. In pre the director most likely works with a screenwriter, artist or producer to set in motion the manifestation of their, or simply his/her grand vision. In production the director oversees most, if not all, aspects of the film, including set construction, lighting development and especially the actor’s process. Finally, in postproduction he/she would likely work with a “post house” in developing the film, transferring it to another medium (if necessary), editing (either directly or with an editor) and adding graphics to its near-end product.
All of this work is emotionally as well as physically exhausting for anyone but, as artistic prowess is the impetus with Auteur Theory, some kind of marker must be left to make the film at least somewhat distinctive. To do that, according to Auteur Cinema, it is imperative that one person take the reigns, guide the film on its course and reach its poetic conclusion (Bartleby Auteur). Since there are so many people on a motion picture set at one time, the screen writer is not always available for production and, further, the producer role is not inclined to be the final magistrate (or meant to be necessarily) it is natural the director fulfill that role.
But the director’s role in Auteur is more than just general decisions to guide the set, collaborate with an editor or converse with a star. Instead he/she must really envision the picture, almost entirely, in its aesthetic, philosophic and narrative scope. Further, this person must have practical as well as skillful abilities in communicating this vision to his/her crew, regardless of their level of talent (Britanica Auteur Theory). In fact, the more gifted the crew is the more the tools a director has at their disposal, and, thus, should strive to realize his/her vision to an even greater extent.
The Auteur Theory is not meant for ego-boosting as it would seem, although this is an inevitable sentiment however. But consider that many directors throughout film's short but textured history have been labeled as megalomaniacs before the theory even existed; D.W. Griffith and Charlie Chaplin, just for measure. Regardless, a director should not, further cannot, manufacture a film on his/her own, even if it were possible. Rather, the auteurist strives to work in concert with those surrounding him/her and complement their skills and knowledge, while pushing their abilities to the artistic limit. Furthermore, the auteurist conspires with the crew on most levels and all stages of the film’s development.
The most well known of the Auteur school, its godfathers perhaps, are likely François Truffaut, Jean-Luc Godard and André Bazin, the first two being foremost directors of the French New Wave and the latter a renowned French critic. The New Wave, as it were, being a sort of zeitgeist in film as well as a genre itself that began in the late '50s, and is known for pressing the limits of fundamental camera use, twitchy editing, and ambitious method acting based upon an actor's own prowess and instincts. One of Truffaut’s most famous works, 400 Blows, depicts a young delinquent in the most brutally honest if not charming terms possible. The boy, Antoine, manages to be a very likable and endearing character regardless of his kleptomania or stubbornness assimilating into education. But to Truffaut’s credit, and to Auteur Theory, Antoine is redeemed not by some selfless act of sacrifice but by his willingness to persevere through the monotony—and destructiveness—of everyday civilization (IMDB).
Without the merits of Auteur, however, it is somewhat unclear if films like 400 Blows, Breathless, 81/2, Vertigo, and American films like Mean Streets, A Clockwork Orange, Eraserhead and THX 1138 would even exist. Nor the whole movement in American film appropriately dubbed New Hollywood. These films all have the common thread of having the director’s psychological and aesthetic imprint. Furthermore, despite the immense talent encased within the stories, or even the indisputable craft from the actors themselves, the figure to leave the most influential fingerprint is the director.
So how does a director leave his or her invisible hand within a given body, especially considering there are so many individuals involved in a film? The most telltale sign would probably be the aesthetic flair of the film itself. In such a case the director would have a definitive cut, sequence or, perhaps, a very distinctive shot that is repeated several times (British Film Source). The Italian director Federico Fellini often used a somewhat bizarre, but very intriguing, pan where the camera would dolly across the location and show his various subjects; some of them often looking at the camera itself. This shot is typified in his most perplexing but vibrant film, and companion piece to his opus La Dolce Vita, 81/2, where a party scene is shown with a group of bachelors and débutantes. Martin Scorsese likewise uses a lot of self-adjusted pans, dollies and tracks that move swift and seamlessly. In Taxi Driver he often used slow motion to show a subjective view of Robert Dinero's enhanced observation as a Vietnam veteran in maritime mainland (Roger Ebert Taxi Driver).
Many other directors have used artistic liberties and continue to do this as well, and New Wave most definitely influenced other auteurists outside of simply France of Italy. Americans were heavily swayed on multiple platforms as to the philosophical direction of Auteur cinema. One of the most critically savored was, without a doubt, Stanley Kubrick. His films are well known for their technical, narrative and aesthetic mastery, which is undoubtedly because of dedicated, if not obsessive, drive for perfection (Wikipedia Kubrick). Throughout his multitude of films you can see a repetition of motifs present, both individually and in his larger body of work, that just seem to echo within the mind of the audience. For instance, Kubrick loved to use long, inverse “tracking shots” where he would follow his given subject as he/she approached the appropriate blocking spots (Kubrick).
In most cases these little artistic themes would be few and far between for a director as he or she would have to adhere to the aesthetic design created, perhaps, by the art director, studio or the screenwriter himself. Without this school of thought, however, many of the most love and cherished directors throughout the world, but, especially, here in the US would not exist; at least not as we know them today. They found their own way with the source proverbs, but managed to metamorphose its purpose to make it relevant for an American audience. From Spielberg and Scorsese to Kubrick and Coppola some of our most beloved films and filmmakers were students of the Auteur kind.
Sources
"Auteur Theory." Wikipedia: The Free Encyclopedia. December 21st, 2009.
"Mise en Scène." Wikipedia: The Free Encyclopedia. January 5th, 2010.
“Auteur.” Columbia Encyclopedia. 2006. Bartleby Online. 9 May, 2006.
"Auteur theory." Encyclopædia Britannica. 2006. Encyclopædia Britannica Online. 9 May, 2006.
“Authorship and the Films of David Lynch.” The Films of David Lynch. 2002. The British Film Resource. 9 May, 2006.
"Taxi Driver." Roger Ebert. Chicago Sun Times. http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=//20040101/REVIEWS08/401010364/1023. January 1st, 2004.
“Stanley Kubrick.” Directors. Internet Movie Database (IMDB). 9 May, 2006.
