The Formative Films Project Braden Shaw

After all this buildup — months of interviews, editing, a trailer, and 19 previous episodes — we’ve made it to the season finale of The Formative Films Project. And what better way to cap it off than with a celebration of five of the best filmmakers working today?

We’ll look at the iconoclastic Paul Schrader, who’s built not only a successful career as a gun-for-hire screenwriter, but also an accomplished director in his own right. There’s also Paul Thomas Anderson, a Robert Altman disciple who’s leaned heavily into his influences while still crafting his own wholly original stories, whether it be in the San Fernando Valley or 1950s London.

Alfonso Cuarón — a third of the Academy Awards' beloved "Three Amigos" — has perfected the balance between mainstream and arthouse, from the Harry Potter franchise and big-budget science fiction, to poignant, authentically Mexican stories you might find in the Criterion Collection. And finally, there’s Bong Joon-ho, the South Korean auteur who’s mastered police procedurals, monster movies, family dramas, and high-concept sci-fi, all featuring commentary on class inequality. He even has three Oscars and a Palme d’Or to show for it.

While the work speaks for itself, this episode is truly a celebration of some of the best films — and filmmakers — of the past decade.

3:14 - 35:02: First Reformed (Liam Quinn)

35:04 - 1:04:29: The Master (Ishan Parikh)

1:04:30 - 1:35:23: Phantom Thread (Oscar Pavlove)

1:35:44 - 2:07:02: Roma (Stephanie Morales Macedo)

2:07:03 - 2:36:34: Parasite (Jay Tapaoan) 

A name that kept popping up throughout my conversations was David Lynch, the enigmatic, reclusive auteur whose films have been known to confuse and captivate. Because of that, it was no surprise his 2001 film Mulholland Drive was highly sought after as a “favorite film” worthy of dissection. We’ll finally talk about it later in this episode, but the reason two of his films are topics of discussion here are that he’s such a singular storyteller; for better or worse, a David Lynch film is a DAVID LYNCH film. The rich color palette, the Angelo Badalamenti score, the surrealism, his unique sense of humor — it all makes for great conversation after the fact.

The same could be said for Darren Aronofsky, another writer/director with a sparse film resume, yet one that’s made noise at both the Academy Awards and in cult fandoms alike. His intense films delve into some rather dark and/or serious subject matter — artistic struggle, biblical allegories, climate change — but again, still very much thought provoking, if not somewhat controversial.

2:30 - 33:47: Blue Velvet (Taylor Weber)

33:48 - 1:05:53: Mulholland Drive (Nat Hoopes)

1:06:15 - 1:35:07: Black Swan (Margarita Madu)

1:35:08 - 2:08:02: mother! (Faith Maddox)

As we’ve discussed throughout this series, filmmaking is a collaborative medium. We all tend to look toward the director as the captain of the ship and a key reason why a movie succeeds or fails, but it is a “team sport” at the end of day.

Having said that, fully realizing your vision as a writer/director is admirable and, ultimately, should be a main goal when making any film. There’s something to be said for having a distinct visual storytelling style that’s recognizable from film to film — as much a trademark of a director’s legacy and talent as it is a formalistic choice to best tell the story.

For our final three episodes, we’ll look at a group of writer/directors — better known as auteurs — that have reached this creative peak over the course of their respective careers.

To start, we’ll look at two favorites of Film Bros and #FilmTwitter alike: Wes Anderson and Quentin Tarantino. Both lean into their influences proudly — Éric Rohmer, Jacques Tati, and Michael Mann films for Anderson, and everything from Kung Fu to French New Wave to Blaxploitation for Tarantino — yet both have paved their own way to distinctive directorial signatures of their own. From the 90s Sundance boom, to the grand stages at Cannes and the Oscars, these two filmmakers have captivated audiences for nearly 30 years and are still two of the best working today.

3:07 - 23:52: Fantastic Mr. Fox (Sophia Belshe)

23:53 - 50:09: Moonrise Kingdom (Ryan Njenga)

50:10 - 1:14:15: The Grand Budapest Hotel (Noah Mercer)

1:14:37 - 1:43:09: Reservoir Dogs (Sam Kingma)

1:43:10 - 2:08:14: Pulp Fiction (Jack Dodd)

2:08:15 - 2:36:15: Once Upon a Time...In Hollywood (Mitch Osterlund)

Last episode we talked about some (at least mostly) heroic figures in this “Dudes Rock Cinema” sub-genre, featuring leading men executing their jobs to save the town, those they love, and themselves. We also touched on the blurred lines between “good” and “evil” with Miami Vice, and we’ll further blur those lines this episode.

Some of these men are well-intentioned; there’s an argument to be made that Ryan Gosling’s Driver is a hero of some sorts even if he is brutally violent with an icy demeanor. And the McManus Brothers have an oath to rid the streets of evil, even if they commit several murders while doing so. As for Lou Bloom and Henry Hill, I wouldn’t exactly consider them role models.

Either way, each of these films depict moral dilemmas, and how each of these men react when they’re pushed to their limits and forced to make the choice to either stay where they are, or get ahead.

2:14 - 32:34: Drive (Gus Hunninghake)

32:35 - 1:03:11: Nightcrawler (Adam Cole)

1:03:33 - 1:27:48: The Boondock Saints (Andrew Lee)

1:27:49 - 1:57:06: GoodFellas (Joey Mulinaro)

I somewhat recently discovered the existence of a sub-genre of films called “Dudes Rock Cinema,” which basically equates to '80s, '90s, and '00s action and crime films, leading men executing their jobs at a high level, and/or anything your dad might watch on a Sunday afternoon. 

Over the next two episodes, we'll look at a group of male-centric films that operate in this lane. Some portray heroic figures who, even if they bend the rules of heroism and/or the law, we still root for them — think Wyatt Earp, John McClane, and The Dude. On the flip side, we have some nefarious folks who choose a slightly darker path, oftentimes getting involved in criminal activity — think Lou Bloom, The MacManus Brothers, and Henry Hill. Either way, they're each unique portraits of masculinity on the big screen.

2:55 - 28:51: The Big Lebowski (Gavin Miller-Broomfield)

28:52 - 54:45: Tombstone (Ryan Arey)

55:09 - 1:21:31: Die Hard (Robert Mays)

1:21:32 - 1:56:26: Miami Vice (Lukas Fryer)

There’s an interesting prism through which we view comedians and/or comedic actors. At times, it feels like they aren’t viewed as “real actors” with range or that comedy is somehow easy, when that’s certainly not the case. And while some still can’t make the transition, there are many notable examples of comedians giving astounding “serious” performances.

And that’s where we’ll go next for this episode. It’s easy to think of Robin Williams, Jim Carrey, Will Ferrell, and Sandler as goofballs, yet they found it within themselves to give melancholic, contemplative and nuanced performances throughout their career. In Sandler’s case, he uses his anger as a weapon, unleashing it in key spots in his work with the Safdie Brothers and Paul Thomas Anderson.

There’s also Will Smith, who has made a name in the comedy and action lanes, yet every few years makes an Oscar play in a “serious” drama. Chris Evans is best known as Captain America, yet he's also gone heel on occasion. And Daniel Craig has effortlessly gone from the debonair James Bond to a detective version of Colonel Sanders, setting up a whole franchise in the process.

Basically, there's a pretty good track record of actors "playing against type."

2:55 - 28:08: Good Will Hunting (Spencer Butterfield)

28:09 - 52:27: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Trey Brillhart)

52:28 - 1:18:00: The Pursuit of Happyness (Marco Marquez)

1:18:22 - 1:38:22: Stranger Than Fiction (Carlos Peterson)

1:38:23 - 2:07:27: Uncut Gems (Tatum Goetting)

2:07:28 - 2:36:21: Knives Out (Rachel Gaylor)