Auteur for hire: When visionary directors take on franchises

Ryan Coogler (left) directs star Michael B. Jordan on the set of Creed.

Earlier this week, in my review of Creed, I called Ryan Coogler one of the most talented young directors working today. I was not the first or only writer to say this, and Hollywood certainly seems to have taken notice as news broke Friday that Coogler is in talks to direct Marvel’s Black Panther movie. It would be a major step up for the director of the independent hit Fruitvale Station and the rather modestly budgeted Creed, but should Coogler sign on, he has definitely earned the shot.

It is almost a cliché in the film industry right now for studios and production companies to seek out acclaimed indie directors and hand over the keys to some of their more lucrative and important franchises. Sometimes, this strategy works well as with Colin Trevorrow jumping from Safety Not Guaranteed to this summer’s biggest hit Jurassic World. Other times, it does not as with Josh Trank moving from Chronicle to this summer’s biggest flop Fantastic Four.

In both those cases, the directors had just one previous feature film under their belt and had yet to prove themselves capable of handling something more than a small-scale production. That would not be the case with Coogler, who has shown with Creed he can more than handle himself with a big budget on a big stage. Let’s leave aside for now the question of why a black director of at least equal talent to white directors Trank and Trevorrow needed an extra film to show studios his capabilities – though this is certainly a topic for another day.

The now-defunct Grantland had a great analysis of this phenomenon over the summer and addressed the way directors used to climb the ranks rather than simply being catapulted to the top. Among the primary arguments is that directors used to make midsize movies like Creed before jumping to blockbusters. Apart from being something of a proving ground, these mid-level movies also allow a director to develop a recognizable style.

To wit, Coogler’s stamp is all over Creed. It is his film through and through, and it is better for it. Jurassic World shares no DNA with Safety Not Guaranteed other than its director’s title card. For me, this is the most dangerous and troubling aspect of the rush to anoint the next Steven Spielberg or the next Stanley Kubrick or what have you – we already have a Spielberg and a Kubrick. I want a Coogler, someone with a unique vision and the talent to bring it to life.

Rian Johnson (right) directs Joseph Gordon-Levitt in Looper.

I got to thinking about this topic a little last year when it was announced Brick and Looper director Rian Johnson would helm the eighth film in the Star Wars franchise. I will admit to being a little bummed out, and part of me still is. Johnson is a fiercely original storyteller, and I would prefer he spent his time telling all the wonderful stories he clearly has in his head rather than trying to play in someone else’s sandbox.

At the same time, like Coogler, he has shown himself to be a gifted auteur who is likely to bring his own personal style to whatever he works on, something Last Cinema Standing contributor Sean Patrick Leydon touched on earlier this year when writing about Johnson’s terrific, under-seen The Brothers Bloom. Johnson’s Star Wars and Coogler’s Black Panther, should he choose to make it, will be excellent films because they are excellent directors. That will not change with the franchise.

It may be a little proprietary of me to wince just a little when an independent director I admire signs on for a blockbuster studio picture, like a music fan whose favorite punk band just signed to a major label. This was already at the forefront of my mind yesterday after I caught a screening of Sam Mendes’ Spectre, the Oscar-winning director’s second entry in the James Bond series. It is a hell of a lot of fun, of course, but it sure does not feel like a Mendes movie.

Remember when Mendes, a theater director by trade, made his feature debut with the instant classic American Beauty? He then made the deconstructionist gangster picture Road to Perdition, the Gulf War thriller Jarhead, and a pair of fiercely different marital dramas, Revolutionary Road and Away We Go. Mendes is an immensely talented filmmaker, and his 007 movies are worth seeing – Skyfall should be in the conversation for best Bond film – but wouldn’t it be cool if he made another movie like his first few? Maybe that’s just the fan in me talking, but then again, that’s who goes to the movies.

Now Watch This: The Brothers Bloom

By Sean Patrick Leydon

Contributor

The Brothers Bloom may not sound familiar to you. That’s okay. Nobody I’ve investigated has admitted to seeing it either. The fact is: It is the second feature film written and directed by Rian Johnson, the same guy who did Brick and Looper. He was also recently announced as the writer-director for Star Wars Episodes VIII and IX.

Johnson is a playful artist, unafraid to set a drugged-out film noir in a high school and almost singularly capable of making time travel cool again via mafia hitmen. He mixes genres in ways mere mortals could never conceive, then uses those familiar tropes to flesh out the layers of meaning that create interesting, multi-faceted characters.

All of these aspects of Johnson’s work are brought to life in The Brothers Bloom, a highly stylized film that tells the story of the brothers Bloom (Adrian Brody) and Stephen (Mark Ruffalo), con men since childhood. The narrator tells you directly: “If one [story] bears a bookmark in the confidence man’s tome, it would be that of Penelope and the Brothers Bloom.”

There is an openness to the tall tales within the film, a constant awareness of the nigh impossibility of the acts, which lends a childlike sweetness to the story. Many scenes are cut using sketches from Stephen’s storyboard for the job. It's like reading a picture book about fabled honorable thieves written for the coolest kid ever. Because of this, admittedly, some scenes are slightly telegraphed, but like pointing out the flaws in our favorite childhood tales, over-examining the simple noir plot points distracts from the fun to be had by suspending your disbelief and giving yourself over to Johnson’s story.

When you accept what you are watching and let yourself be taken along for the ride, you get to enjoy watching clever people use their minds to hack the planet. Stephen and Bloom are masters of the human psyche, using clothes, settings, accents, and fear but mostly their words to get what they want.

They are our protagonists, and we love them. We don’t mind that they spin wonderful lies to rob their marks blind. As my mother would say, this is not the type of movie the nuns would let you watch. Stephen argues that ignorance is bliss for their marks, and there is a darkness in his rationalization, and in that darkness, we realize that The Brothers Bloom is something more than just a childish fable.

This darkness is not singular within Johnson’s work. Brick is full of murder, paranoia, depression, lust, and greed, while Looper doubles down on the greed and adds hate, suicide, and loneliness. There is a recurring theme of characters involved is shady goings on yet still trying to make things right. Johnson tells stories about criminals and heroes – often indistinguishable – who work at cross purposes to the world around them. He takes us to places defined by the grayness of their morality and filled with people struggling to define what honor means for them.

I watched Johnson’s first film, Brick, a million times as a teen and the (original) Star Wars trilogy about as much in my childhood. The marriage of Star Wars and Johnson represents a freakish collision of the varied tastes I’ve spent my life developing. I’m wary of one of my favorite directors being given so much power but extremely excited to see what he does with it.

Think about Han Solo. He rules. Everyone watching Star Wars: A New Hope for the first time knew Han Solo ruled when he appeared on screen. Here was a badass smuggler with a laser pistol on his hip and a yeti for a companion, and he reluctantly accepts a noble quest because, what the hell, there’s money in it. He is a perfect Johnson-type hero: morally ambiguous but with deeply hidden notions of what’s right and what’s wrong.

Most of the characters in the Star Wars canon take a while to understand. Growing pains abound. Not so for Han Solo. He’s seen the whole universe, and he’s guarded because he knows it can crush anything with its indiscriminate wrath. I predict Johnson’s Star Wars entries will be full of mysterious, Solo-esque characters, eking out meager existences on the margins of their worlds and hiding the ghosts and demons within them from their friends and enemies alike.

These secret dark places in the minds of the characters Johnson creates are among the many reasons I’m excited for Star Wars Episodes VIII and IX. Add to that the fact that Johnson filmed Brick with donations from his family and friends and shot it at a high school while classes were in session. That film blew my brain apart, and I know I’m not the only one. Just imagine what he could do with the financial weight of Disney behind him – and hopefully the creative latitude to see his vision through to the big screen.

Johnson has been a director to watch right from the beginning of his career. While not as widely available as they should be, his films are out there waiting to be discovered. I watched The Brothers Bloom on DVD because, of course, I own it because Rian Johnson is my favorite. You, however, can and should watch this on whatever streamy tablet/computer/phone you like because it is currently screening somewhere in the vast cosmos of Netflix Instantwatch. You should do that. Go watch this children’s book of a film noir, then dream about lightsabers after.

Sean Patrick Leydon is a photographer, artist, and contributor to Last Cinema Standing. You can check out more of his work at nonotthought.blogspot.com.