“There are no good and bad movies, only good and bad directors.” Such were the words of Francois Truffaut in 1954, and on this day a critical mechanism was set in motion that continues to grind on to this day. The idea is attractive: the worst films of a good director—say, for instance, Alfred Hitchcock—will always be more interesting than the best films of a bad director, such as (to quote Truffaut) Jean Delannoy who directed L'Éternel retour or The Eternal Return in 1943 starring Jean Marais. In essence, the theory posits that in certain movies the individual style of the director or producer shines through the collectivism of the studio system to create a work of art which—and this is the gist of it—can be attributed to a single artist: an auteur or author.
But can a film be attributed to a single artist? Is it logical to credit all the paintings of the Sistine Chapel to Michelangelo? Does it make sense to laud an orchestra conductor for waving his baton to music he didn’t compose? Granted, there are directors who leave their personal mark on films, and, accordingly, deserve praise, but the question remains: What about George Seaton? Have you heard of George Seaton? He co-wrote A Day at the Races (1937) starring The Marx Brothers, wrote and directed Miracle on 34th Street (1948) starring Natalie Wood, as well as The Counterfeit Traitor (1962) starring William Holden—three films not joined by a particular visual style or theme, but by a subtler, easily overlooked characteristic: Quality.
By putting undue emphasis on the director of a film, the myriad sources of creativity at work are obscured, and the filmgoer is all-too-often led astray. It is perfectly acceptable for a fan of Roman Polanski to want to see his student films. But to spend money on this rather than on Carrie (1952) is to make a grave mistake—and, dear friends, if you have not heard of this film, it’s not your fault: it’s the fault of critics who neglect to bring such films to your attention.
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