Behind the Camera Lens: Exploring the Art of Directing in Movies

It’s hard to say what makes a great movie. The script, foremost, can make or break a film. A bad script is infuriating. If the dialogue is poor, I struggle to stay with it. But if the dialogue is well-written and well-delivered, I can forgive almost anything—bad acting, clumsy editing, even weak direction. M. Night Shyamalan is a good example. His films are often preserved, at least for me, by a strong story arc or a well-written script. Still, it’s remarkable that the creator of The Sixth Sense and The Village is also responsible for The Happening and Devil.

So, what sets some movies apart? With everything that goes into making a film—script, story, editing, directing, acting, timing, chemistry—is it just dumb luck when it works? Or are some elements more essential than others?

Some directors consistently make great movies, assuming you understand their style. Wes Anderson, the Coen Brothers, Gus Van Sant, Shawn Levy, they’ve each found a rhythm. They focus on dialogue, timing, and intentional direction more than relying on actors or story alone. And it works.

They cast great actors, but they don’t depend on them to carry the film. Owen Wilson is a good example. Both Anderson and Levy know how to bring out his best. But pair him with Woody Allen, and it’s a mess. Midnight in Paris had a good story, but the acting was flat. Allen can tell a story, but he doesn’t know how to manage his actors.

Once in a while, you come across a perfect movie—one that couldn’t possibly be better. I’ve often wondered what allows everything to connect so seamlessly and then translate to the screen in a way that lets the viewer get lost. It’s like reading a well-written book, where the story unfolds in your head without interruption. Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, Good Will Hunting, Wedding Crashers, O Brother, Where Art Thou?, The Grand Budapest Hotel, The Internship, Top Gun: Maverick—these are perfect. But what had to come together to make that happen?

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade is my favorite of the Indian Jones series. The opening scene of Raiders of the Lost Ark is iconic, but Last Crusade is better from start to finish. All the Indiana Jones films were directed by Steven Spielberg, widely considered one of the greatest directors of all time. He made Jaws, Close Encounters, E.T., Hook, Jurassic Park, Schindler’s List, Saving Private Ryan—all incredible. But of the 60-some films he’s directed, many weren’t well-directed at all.

It’s hard to reconcile that the same person responsible for Last Crusade also made Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Some of the dialogue in Crystal Skull was good, but it seemed to be shot in a single take with a store-bought camera. Spielberg makes rookie mistakes. A character wears a hat in one shot, then doesn’t in the next—same scene, different take, edited together. It’s like when Mel Gibson left a white car in Braveheart. Spielberg does this in nearly every film. Maybe he believes the story and acting will carry it. But they shouldn’t have to.

I want to know why.

Not just why blockbuster directors let mistakes slide, but why Crystal Skull wasn’t nearly as good as the first three—especially Last Crusade—when it absolutely could have been. Ignore the final scene with the interdimensional beings. The story arc was solid. The Indiana Jones films are folk tales, indulgent fantasies of a particular era. Remember when the Ark melted the Nazis? That wasn’t exactly pulled from history.

So how do studios let this happen? Money matters more than aesthetics. Still, directors, editors, writers, and actors—most of them do it because they love filmmaking. How do movies like League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Game Over, Man!, or anything by John Hamburg get made?

This is why I could never be a movie or music reviewer. I’ve written book reviews, and even that challenged me. Chance plays too heavy a role in how well a movie translates to the screen. And today, studio expectations seem to influence whether a director gets to craft a film—or just direct it. If you’re making a movie, find a director who wants to be involved and who has a clear vision of the arc in their mind before the cameras ever start rolling; otherwise, your movie might end up like a John Hamburg film. And nobody wants that.