I don't want to know what would have happened if Dune was a big success, but lucky for me, it tanked and David Lynch started spending the big budget fame has brought him on licensing rights to Nina Simone songs, a ton of Russian whores, and elaborate bunny-sitcom sets.
My problem with contemporary, independent directors is how almost all of them prove themselves disingenuous with the pictures they make following their success. Either the quaintness no longer seems sincere (Noah Bambauch’s Margot at the Wedding, Wes Anderson’s The Darjeeling Limited) or the notoriety corks them into becoming the breed of director whose grand-scale movies are the antithesis of what made them likable and distinctive in the first place (Fernando Meirelles’ Constant Gardner, Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu’s Babel). They direct like gifted children who do not know how to spend their money wisely, act above the status quo from the onset and capitulate into the melodramas their efforts were working against.
Independent directors of yesteryear, like Lynch, the Coens, and even to some extent, Steven Soderbergh still know how to direct with a little man’s vision of greatness, not the Napoleonisic rise I see from the young directors of the 2000’s who have become the name in film, I assume, they always saw themselves as deserving from day one.
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