Directors' CUTS

Directors are often associated with temperamental outbursts and eccentric demeanor. They communicate in colorful language, especially when things don't look up according to their vision. This, however, is just the outer side. Beneath the much-publicized flamboyance and characteristic airs, directors-real directors-are very solid people, very much in control.

In fact, directors are quite fun people. I say this not because I, too, belong to their line of endeavor but because, really, directors have a charming childlike curiosity and a deep understanding of human nature. Most of all, their imagination is, oh, so playful. They have tantrums every now and then, just like anybody else. Yes, many directors would explode in exaggerated proportions. But, on the whole, directors are highly civil and professional at work.

Decades ago, coming back to the Philippines after attending film school abroad, I was drawn into the circle of directors of the local mainstream cinema. It was such a memorable encounter-to come in contact with these extraordinary beings whose movies I watched in my childhood. It also gave me an initial glimpse, up-close, of many interesting peculiarities.

I knew of a director who couldn't work if he wore long pants. He was always in skimpy denim shorts and a white t-shirt, shawl over his head and shoulders like an Arabian princess. Another director would ask for the script but would not even look at it, and then would proceed to shoot a scene. Still another one would shoot without any script at all, scribbling actors' dialogues-on table napkins!-as ideas would occur in his mind. It's fun to watch directors do their thing. Their quirks, especially, are really something. If you're observant enough, it's easy to distinguish a bona fide from a sham. Some older directors, to this day, dress up and act like a Samuel Goldwyn or a Cecil de Mille, or have their hair done like James Dean's. It beats me what all the characterization is about-perhaps to make an impression, as if looking like somebody makes them somebody, too. One director likes to gather his cast around him, first thing, and chit-chats for hours instead of buckling down to work. He'd yak about his childhood, his youth, his starvation days, his victories, his women. If these are not enough, he'd go on endlessly telling about his parents, his brothers, sisters, cousins, neighbors and a rich aunt who frequently flies to America for dinner with George Hamilton and to Europe for a bite of fresh first-world sausages.

By the time there's nothing else to say, it's 12 noon. He declares lunch and the shoot that's been scheduled for 8 AM actually starts at 2 PM. The producer silently agonizes over the great waste of time and money but would not discuss it with the director for fear that it might upset the volatile artist and wreck his creative disposition.

Another one has a nasty habit of taking extended naps after lunch. The entire cast and crew would wait until he pleases to get up and resume work. No one would dare wake him up lest all hell would break lose. For this director, there's no difference between working and vacationing in Amanpulo.

Some directors have runaway sexual drives. And they don't care where they whisk their libido, whether at their cast or crew. This often results in trouble on the set, especially when lover-director gets jealous. Also, it is difficult to impose discipline on some kid who is intoxicated with the thought that he or she is "big daddy's" baby.

There are also directors who think they are actors. Every time they'd block a scene, they'd show the actor how to act it out to the tiniest detail. In fact, they act out every scene for every member of the cast to follow. And, every time, they do it with incredible expression, dialogue and all.

This style presents problems to the actor. What these directors are trying to do is mold every character after their, the directors', own image. In effect, the actor is deprived of creative freedom. He only has to be simply an exact copy of the director handling him. His acting talent is reduced to plain puppetry. On the opposite side, there's this director who doesn't give a damn how his actors act their parts. When an actor consults him about his assigned character, the director would simply snort, "How would I know? You're the actor!" And he seldom calls for a take two of any shot. Incredible? You bet.

I myself have been blamed for my coolness. Some of my producers insist it is nice to breathe fire once in a while. It's my privilege, they say. Well, I'd rather reserve that privilege until necessary. Bad temper does not do anything other than immobilize the people you work with and imperil your own health. There have been times when my assistant director would panic over some technical problems that suddenly come up and we're way past our schedule without a single shot yet taken. After so much futile worrying, the poor guy would wearily turn to me, "Sir, what happens now?"

I would smile and whistle a tune to appease him. Why lose your nerve when there's a technical crew and a producer already beating their heads on the problem? Actually, I'm just perhaps so lucky not to have had the torment of working on a commercial film that was scheduled to open in a few days and only half of the scenes had been shot! Such pressure is sure to kill me.

The fact that directing is a creative art form makes it open for just anyone to own it or to feign it. Directors are looked up to, by aspiring actors especially, as one who has the extraordinary ability to bring out and hone the talent in people. This is true of legitimate directors. But there are those that lurk around, claiming to be directors, tainting the image painstakingly built by those who really got what it takes. True, anyone can potentially become good directors. Some, however, prefer to pretend rather than learn. To be a qualified director takes a basic capacity for creative vision-which everybody claims to have, anyway. But this fundamental quality can work, efficiently and effectively, only with knowledge of standard techniques and procedures. Even the very innovative and experimental of directors must first learn and master the basics before they can assume the right to break them, before they can break them with the assurance that they know what they are doing.

It is common to see a con artist sitting on the director's chair, bossing around, letting numerous assistants and assistants' assistants do the job for him. He has another job though-licking his financier's ego until it glows like the noontime sun. Yuck, you say? Right, but that's the only job he knows!

A director who asks around what scene comes before or after which scene is like a ship captain who's either negligent or lost. One who makes a big fuss of nothing is trying to call attention to himself. The mustached director who always tags a sexy young man along is something else other than a man. The one who suddenly becomes a different person on the set is insecure. In all probability, a director who basks in the splendor of his position is a sham.

Genuine directors give-they inspire and nurture and instill discipline so that the talent in everyone they work with shines through. The impostors try to draw awe and subservience from their unsuspecting victims in order to build up their own self-confidence or fortify their external image. All directors have quirks. But some so-called directors have quirks that are so lethal, leaving those that are in their clout depleted in the end-physically, psychologically and morally.

Oftentimes, the director who remains quiet on the sides or gets busy working like everyone else, low key and unassuming, is the one who commands genuine respect from the cast and crew he works with and the investors he works for. Oftentimes, he is the one who really delivers, earning the admiration of the people who ultimately matters-his audience.