The Filmmakers

by Ari, Brian, Erik, Greg, Jose, Lons, Scott, and Yuki

The following list contains each of our ten favorite filmmakers. This list of personal favorites is meant to be an enjoyable way of discussing our general tastes in film, not a complete dissection of the many great filmmakers of the last century. As you'll notice, hundreds of great filmmakers have been excluded. Now for the list:

 

Ari

Martin Scorsese - Scorsese has been written about quite a bit since I launched this site last July for one simple reason: he’s my favorite filmmaker; not only the most inspiring and influential figure because of his work, but also his wisdom and knowledge as a film-scholar. I’ve seen countless films from Italy, France, Japan, and of course America because of his passion for movies. His films have stuck with me the strongest over the last four years in particular, constantly challenging my view of cinema and demanding subsequent viewing. Scorsese manages to create highly entertaining art, something I find inspiring, admirable, and terribly, terribly exciting. Best of all, Scorsese has been prolific for his entire career. I separate his films into the categories of masterpiece, great, very good, good, and Boxcar Bertha - his one and only abomination (but really, it was a Roger Corman production). The first two categories are the most important. The masterpieces include Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, and Goodfellas (although many of his other films, even if flawed, make the argument) Which one is best? Who can really say? Some days it’s Goodfellas, some days it’s Taxi Driver, some days it’s Raging Bull. The bottom line is that these are three of the best American films ever made. His great films include Mean Streets, The King of Comedy, The Last Temptation of Christ, The Age of Innocence, Casino, Kundun, and Gangs of New York. That’s quite a diverse and fascinating selection. Even the “lesser” Scorsese films have become favorites of mine - like New York New York or The Color of Money. I can go on and on and on about his movies. I never tire of discussing his accomplishments, and it seems like each day I think about his work more and more. Simply put, he’s the one.

Shohei Imamura - Besides the golden age of Hollywood cinema, I find the greatest pleasure in Japanese film, usually concentrated on their films of the 50’s and 60’s (as you’ll see with two other directors on this list). While Shohei Imamura began his career in the late 50’s, it’s his work in the 70’s, 80’s, and 90’s that I revisit the most frequently. Each of those decades saw a masterpiece by Imamura: Vengeance Is Mine in 1979, Black Rain in 1989, and The Eel in 1997. What these great films have in common is the profound psychological complexity explored within their characters. In his review for Vengeance is Mine, Roger Ebert compared the film, and most specifically the main character, to "Crime and Punishment". It’s a fine point. Imamura understood how to delve deep within a character and present their emotions and conflicts in a compelling, challenging, and sincere manner. Vengeance Is Mine (probably his best film) gives us a complex and disturbing portrait of a killer. Black Rain is a harrowing depiction of Hiroshima and its aftermath, with sequences of shocking realism and overwhelming emotion. The Eel is a fascinating and surprisingly beautiful story of repentance, sexuality, and the unusual and unexpected ways love reveals itself. Like all great films, these three works are unforgettable achievements worthy of in-depth analysis and repeat viewing. Also worth noting is his bizarre, oddly moving comedy Warm Water Under a Red Bridge and his satirical and edgy look at pornography, appropriately titled The Pornographers. Imamura passed away last year, but the collection of films he left behind will continue to inspire audiences interested in sophisticated, uncompromising cinema.

John Cassavetes - There are few American filmmakers who represent this level of daring and singular vision. The man who essentially created the independent movement in American cinema deserves his rightful place among the great filmmakers of film-history. While many people know him for his excellent work as an actor in films like Rosemary’s Baby or The Dirty Dozen, Cassavetes really distinguished himself with the films he wrote and directed in the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s; a refreshing and influential change of pace from the standard Hollywood product. There’s something dangerously provocative about his work, like he’s doing something so against the norm that we should be wary of what he presents. It’s this feeling that ultimately represents what’s so attractive about his movies. I wrote short reviews for my three favorite of his films in the feature Three by Cassavetes. Opening Night, his most energetic and almost deliriously entertaining film, remains my personal favorite. It’s probably his most accessible film despite its length, a good place to start if you’ve never experienced his work but have an interest in doing so. A Woman Under the Influence and Killing of a Chinese Bookie are his most famous films for a reason, the sort of accomplishments that made his voice heard loud and clear. And then there’s Faces, one of the best films of the 60’s.

Fritz Lang - Fritz Lang is one of the great visual masters in the history of film. A few months ago I had the pleasure of seeing a restored print of Metropolis at a revival house here in Los Angeles, the first time I had watched the film (or any silent film for that matter) in about 3 years. I was suddenly reminded of how ingenious and stupendous the visual astuteness of the silent era truly was. Metropolis is a visual wonder that still manages to inspire filmmakers almost a century after its release. THX-1138, Blade Runner, Dark City, The Matrix - many of the films that have become seminal achievements of the science-fiction genre contain the Metropolis influence. I’ve always been in awe of the enormity of the great productions of the silent film era, with their epic imagery and incredible sets and overall artistry. Because of films like Metropolis, that era will never be forgotten. In 1931, Lang made the brilliant film M, a psychological suspense thriller with the great Peter Lorre in his finest performance. M is pretty much one of the best movies ever made. The Testament of Dr. Mabuse followed shorty after - a thrilling crime/horror hybrid about a criminal mastermind who orchestrates complete chaos from within an asylum, a clear parable on the spread of Nazi ideology. Lang continued to demonstrate his talent when he came to Hollywood, directing films like the powerful drama Clash by Night (with a great Barbara Stanwyck and Marylin Monroe), thrillers such as House by the River or Scarlet Street, and even film-noir like The Big Heat (featuring a memorable performance by Lee Marvin).

Akira Kurosawa -

The sheer volume of Kurosawa’s work is staggering. One could easily make an argument that his filmography is the most impressive in the history of film, and that he’s perhaps the greatest director to ever work in the medium. I know I have a few filmmakers I personally favor over Kurosawa, but I think it would be difficult to argue against such a claim. Orson Welles would be a strong counterpoint, at least in terms of overall importance, but nobody can really match Kurosawa’s consistency and quality as a cinematic artist. Rashomon, Ikiru, The Seven Samurai, Throne of Blood, The Lower Depths, The Hidden Fortress, The Bad Sleep Well, Yojimbo, Sanjuro, High and Low, Red Beard, Dersu Uzala, Kagemusha, and Ran. Those are 14 films that range from great to masterpiece. Most filmmakers barely manage a single masterpiece in their careers; that Kurosawa made so many is why his work will always hover above the rest, inspiring future generations of filmmakers. It’s difficult to pick a favorite out of those 14 selections. Maybe Seven Samurai for being one of the most influential films of all time; maybe Kagemusha for its epic, poetic beauty; maybe Ikiru for the incredible emotion of the characters and story; maybe The Bad Sleep Well for elevating the revenge film into something masterfully engrossing, complex, and dramatic. Kurosawa’s work is of the highest caliber, unlike anything that’s been done before.

Steven Spielberg - “This is one of the most phenomenal debut films in the history of movies” - Pauline Kael on The Sugarland Express.

It seems as though Spielberg has become unfavorable to his mass audience since the release of Munich, the most ambitious and sophisticated film of his incredible and prolific career. It also seems like several print and internet sources have become hesitant to acknowledge his overall importance as an artist because of his commercial accessibility and success. I find both situations to be utterly ludicrous. Is he not a great filmmaker because many of his movies have made a considerable profit at the box-office? Is Munich really as dangerous as "Mein Kampf", as one asinine, imbecilic reviewer put it (really, some of the responses to Munich were intensely unnecessary). The more I think about Spielberg’s career, the more impressed I am by the variety of his films. There is no genre beyond his abilities as a storyteller. He understands personal films, he understands escapist entertainment, and most importantly, he understands how to blend the two for amazing results. I think it’s a testament to his talent that his two best films, Jaws and Munich, are completely different. I love his different modes as a director. His personal side has given us Empire of the Sun, Schindler’s List, and Munich. His wondrous, purely entertaining side has given us Raiders of the Lost Ark, Jurassic Park, 1941, War of the Worlds, and Jaws. Then there’s the mixture of the two sensibilities that brought forth provocative sci-fi entertainments like Minority Report and Artificial Intelligence, and both personal and spectacular wonders like E.T. and Close Encounters of the Third Kind. That level of artistry in so many different genres is quite a gift, and that Spielberg continues to challenge himself and his audience is proof of his significance.

Stanley Kubrick - When you look at the work of Stanley Kubrick, you see a flawless filmography. That’s not something you can say about many filmmakers. Like Scorsese, I have a difficult time choosing a favorite film from Kubrick’s body of work. I’d say as of right this moment, The Shining, Eyes Wide Shut, and Paths of Glory are tied for my favorite. The Shining for its gloriously devilish entertainment, Eyes Wide Shut for its seemingly infinite depth (subsequent viewing is required), and Paths of Glory for its piercing thematic and emotional power. These three masterpieces alone demonstrate the range of his talent, and then you add films like Barry Lyndon, Lolita, and 2001: A Space Odyssey and it proves that Kubrick was a magician of cinematic craft. While not the most prolific filmmaker, the strength of the work he did complete is more than substantial. Kubrick visualized his stories unlike any other. His visual sensibilities are perhaps my favorite of any filmmaker. I love the choices he made, from using a traditional aspect ratio, to his incredible sense of atmosphere and mood. The lighting in his films ranges from gritty and dangerous, to mystical and haunting. Again, The Shining, Eyes Wide Shut, and Paths of Glory perfectly demonstrate this range. The Shining has a cold, eerie, deeply unsettling feel that gradually gets under your skin. Eyes Wide Shut has a dreamy, somewhat surreal, even operatic tone to its visuals. Paths of Glory presents a dirty, shockingly realistic portrait of not only the violence of war, but the psychological nerve and anguish of its characters with dark, gritty, black and white photography. The depth of his work is remarkable - one of the great cinematic visionaries.

Yasujiro Ozu - While Kurosawa is widely regarded as the best Japanese filmmaker of all time (especially in the west), some critics and scholars point to the exceptional work of Yasujiro Ozu. It’s an interesting debate since both of these master filmmakers brought so many classics to the screen. I think I slightly prefer Kurosawa because I’ve seen more of his films, but I’m certain that Ozu’s masterpiece, Early Summer, is my single favorite Japanese film. There’s a natural beauty in Ozu’s work that you very rarely find in cinema - a sense of emotional fulfillment that I find deeply moving and profound. Ozu’s main theme is focused on the relationship between the family and the self. No filmmaker has presented this dynamic with such beauty and compassion, and no other films dealing with this concept have the same lasting power as Ozu’s masterworks like Early Summer, Tokyo Story, or Late Spring. The closest films to recreate the Ozu experience are Kim Ki-duk’s mesmerizing 2003 drama Spring Summer Fall Winter and Spring, and Hso Hsiao-Hsien’s beautiful film Cafe Lumiere, which he dedicated to Ozu. Both of these films follow the same basic idea that you can find in Ozu’s work. Early Summer, Late Spring, Tokyo Story, and Floating Weeds are very simple and subtle in structure. Ozu builds his characters and themes without relying too heavily on a complex or convoluted plot. It’s in the little details that he develops the tone and emotion of his stories. The way he photographs a bright, beautiful day, or the subtle touches in the performances of his actors. His use of music to underscore the mental state of a character, like the Kabuki theater sequence with a melancholy Setsuko Hara (who is always photographed with great passion by Ozu) in Late Spring. Ozu’s ability to convey deep emotion with such delicacy and subtlety is why his voice is of such value.

Woody Allen - Many excellent screenwriters have established themselves over the last thirty years or so, but three in particular have appealed to me greatly with their astounding gifts for cinematic structure and dialogue. Two of them (and the most recent) are the Coen Brothers, who emerged on the scene in 1984 with their brilliant debut Blood Simple. The other is Woody Allen of course, who has distinguished himself as a real master of film language with his exceptional career. While things cooled down for him in the late 90’s, 2005’s Match Point marked a sensational return to form (at least for drama) and proved once again that he still possesses the same talent that created films like Crimes and Misdemeanors and Husbands and Wives. (On a side note: Allen describes his next film, titled Cassandra’s Dream, as “a real film-noir”. It stars Colin Farrell and Ewan McGregor, and comes out in October) Of course, Allen is best known for his classic comedies like Annie Hall, Manhattan, and Bullets Over Broadway, and again I struggle to pick a favorite out of his immense filmography. It’s the blend of comedy and drama that you find in movies like Hannah and Her Sisters, The Purple Rose of Cairo, and Shadows and Fog (way, way underrated) that I enjoy the greatest. Out of his straight comedies, Broadway Danny Rose is my favorite; out of his straight dramas, it’s extremely close between Husbands and Wives and Match Point. I even have an affinity for some of his smaller films like the charming, if somewhat superfluous comedy Alice, or the quiet, somber, Bergman-inspired drama September. Before writing this I put on Bullets Over Broadway for inspiration, and after watching it again I can only say that any filmmaker who gives us a line like, “we started discussing art and literature, and Freud and Nietzsche, and in order to illustrate a point on Greek Etymology I noticed he’d unbuttoned his fly”, instantly deserves a place on my favorites list.

Robert Altman - Lastly we come to the great Robert Altman, who unfortunately passed away last year, but left behind a filmography for the ages. Altman was, and always will be, among the most sophisticated of American filmmakers. The best of his work is incisive and singular, with a realism and immediacy that completely immerses the viewer into the story and characters. When I first saw Nashville, I was stunned by how effortlessly rich, moving, and entertaining it was. Here was a nearly three hour ensemble drama about music and life that was so emotionally rewarding and stimulating that I felt like immediately putting it back on so I could experience the many greats moments once again. Likewise for his brilliant western McCabe and Mrs. Miller, starring Warren Beatty and Julie Christie (also great together in Hal Ashby’s incredible film Shampoo). McCabe and Mrs. Miller is a fascinating, extremely uncommon and esoteric amalgam of contemporary sensibilities and old-fashioned technique. The film is eloquent and subtle, skillfully working its way towards the tense, tragically beautiful conclusion. Altman uses songs by Leonard Cohen for the score, and it’s one of the most effective choices of his career. Altman’s signature overlapping dialogue is also used exceptionally well, especially with Beatty and Christie’s genuine chemistry. Another two Altman favorites are The Long Goodbye and California Split, both starring Elliot Gould. The Long Goodbye is one of the best Chandler adaptations and one of the most entertaining films of the 70’s. California Split is a great, hilarious comedy about compulsive gamblers (Gould and George Segal) - a film to watch again and again for its excellent performances and many classic moments. In the 90’s, Altman reinvented himself yet again with the highly ambitious and epic drama Short Cuts, featuring great performances by an enormously talented cast. His Hollywood satire The Player, starring Tim Robbins in his best performance, is one of my very favorite comedies. In fact, I think I’m going to throw on the dvd right now.....

 

Brian

PT. Anderson - I loved Boogie Nights, who didn't?  I'm one of the few out there who think that Magnolia was even better.   I wasn't really sure what he tried to accomplish with Punch Drunk Love.  Anderson is able to pace and build tension into his films like no one else working today.  Can't wait to see what he does with his adaptation of Upton Sinclair's "Oil!", retitled There Will Be Blood.

Francis Ford Coppola - What can I say?  I'm Italian, and I grew up watching The Godfather Parts One and Two.  Since I'm being given this forum, I'm going to advocate what I believe is one of the most underrated films of all time, The Conversation. I can't complain too much, however, since it lost the Best Picture Oscar to another Coppola film.

Cameron Crowe - I can't help it; I love everything this guy puts out.  I even liked Vanilla Sky.  I'm not sure why Elizabethtown was so poorly received, and it's been somewhat trendy to trash everything of his that's come out since Almost Famous.  In all honesty, my least favorite Crowe film is Jerry Maguire

Walt Disney - Let me make this clear, I'm talking about Walter Elias Disney, not Walt Disney Studios.  Therefore, we're talking about the Disney body of work that covers 1928-1966, and NOT the company currently cranking out titles like Bambi II and Cinderella III.  The man was a visionary, and responsible for technology like the multi-plane camera.  As I said in our last group effort, Disney managed to elevate animation from cartoons for children into an art form.  Who can't get behind the idea that, "a dream is a wish your heart makes?"

Alfred Hitchcock - Has another filmmaker been as studied or written about?  I have a professor who wrote an entire book on the shower scene from Psycho.  Not the film, just that one scene.  For my money, Rear Window is his best work.

George Lucas - I'm not sure what happened to the guy who made the Star Wars trilogy, the Indiana Jones series, American Graffiti, and THX 1138. I guess things just never really recovered for him after Howard the Duck

Quentin Tarantino - He pretty much ignited the independent film movement of the early 1990's.  Justin Timberlake can bring as much sexy back as he wants, but I'm fired up that Tarantino and Rodriguez are bringing grindhouse back.

Orson Welles -

A film studies class I was in (the same professor who wrote the Psycho book) took a trip to Pittsburgh to see Citizen Kane when it was on its 50th anniversary tour. There are not a lot of filmmakers whose work I'd travel two and a half hours to see exhibited.  That says a lot. Most people consider him a boy genius who peaked with his first film. The thing is, he made great movies after Citizen Kane.  His Macbeth should be the standard by which other Shakespearian adaptations are measured.

Billy Wilder - I don't think I could have made this list and left out the man who brought us Norma Desmond, or the body floating in the water shot.  Honestly, Billy Wilder would have made my list if his only film was Sunset Blvd. Luckily, Billy Wilder is also responsible for Double Indemnity, Sabrina, Stalag 17, The Seven Year Itch, Some Like it Hot, The Apartment,  and others I'm sure I'm forgetting. 

Ed Wood - I've often said that sometimes bad cinema is just as good as good cinema.  I don't know of anyone who provided more unintentional comedy than Ed Wood's body of work.  I can't not watch Plan Nine from Outer Space, Glen or Glenda, or Bride of the Monster whenever they're on TV.  I've been a big fan since I saw the film It Came from Hollywood when I was a child.

 

Erik

Martin Scorsese - He’s the man, no question about it. Just look at his incredible body of work. Scorsese is a film buff/historian first and foremost, and his encyclopedic knowledge of film history is astounding, and the archetype for nearly every young American director that has come out since (see other names on this list). While some say he swims in the same genre pool too often (gangster films), just look closer. He’s done everything from musicals (New York, New York) to a sports biopic (Raging Bull) to a studio sequel (The Color of Money), and every film is unmistakably his own. Best Films: Mean Streets, Taxi Driver, The Last Waltz, Raging Bull, The King of Comedy, The Color of Money, The Last Temptation of Christ, Goodfellas, Casino, Gangs of New York, The Aviator, No Direction Home: Bob Dylan, The Departed

Stanley Kubrick - Enigmatic, reclusive, meticulous. These are the words often used to describe Stanley Kubrick in his personal and professional life. The man was a genius, and perhaps the single-most unique and brilliant filmmaker of all time. Every great filmmaker has a distinct style that is instantly recognizable. Something in the way he tells his stories and shoots his films is so obvious that the word Kubrickian was created just to describe his method. The only complaint I can make about him is that he never made enough movies before his death in 1999, but that was also part of his allure. Every Kubrick film was an event indeed. Best Films: Paths of Glory, Lolita, Dr. Strangelove: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, 2001: A Space Odyssey, A Clockwork Orange, The Shining, Full Metal Jacket, Eyes Wide Shut

Steven Spielberg - Often criticized for his overt sentimentality that often leaks into his films, Steven Spielberg is nonetheless one of the most gifted and technically brilliant directors ever. His films always look beautiful on all levels: special effects, art direction, cinematography, etc. Spielberg makes great entertainment, and nobody is better. His films are unforgettable, exciting, intelligent, and a lot of fun. In his recent films he’s been exploring his dark side which is amazing to see. Most of his peers from the 70’s have sat back and played it safe late in their careers, but Spielberg has used his wisdom to take on more challenging cinematic fare, and the audience is reaping the benefits. Best Films: Jaws, Close Encounters of the Third Time, Raiders of the Lost Ark, E.T. the Extra Terrestrial, Jurassic Park, Schindler’s List, Saving Private Ryan, Minority Report, Catch Me If You Can, War of the Worlds, Munich

Alfred Hitchcock -

Another director whose name was used to coin a phrase, Hitchcockian refers to all things suspenseful in films. He was called the master of suspense for a reason: nobody creates tension like Hitchcock did. His films were way ahead of their time, and often imitated but never duplicated. It’s amazing he never won an Oscar (except for a career award), but the Academy—in their infinite wisdom—has a long history of not awarding the most talented filmmakers. A strong indicator of a filmmaker’s influence, and ultimately their importance in film history, is in how their peers reference or speak of their work. Everyone looks to Hitchcock as one of the best. Best Films: The 39 Steps, Notorious, Strangers on a Train, Dial M for Murder, Rear Window, To Catch a Thief, Vertigo, North by Northwest, Psycho, The Birds

Quentin Tarantino - Total hack who steals all his ideas from obscure foreign films, or walking film encyclopedia and brilliant writer/director who loves film references? I’m of the latter belief. Tarantino is the most exciting filmmaker today because his films are events, and he makes movies for people who love movies. With Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs, he created the modern gangster film and made independent filmmaking legit. Few filmmakers these days can sell their films with the director’s name, but Tarantino is one of them. I also love that he doesn’t make movies to win awards, but instead makes movies he would love to watch. And nobody writes better dialogue then QT. Best Films: Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, Jackie Brown, Kill Bill

Joel and Ethan Coen - The Coen brothers comprise all of what is great about filmmaking today: sharp writing, clever storytelling, technical skills, and great characters. They never make the same movie twice either. And they hail from the Twin Cities area of Minnesota, my beloved homeland. The Coens are brilliant at mixing different genres to create a singular film in their own style. Best Films: Blood Simple, Raising Arizona, Barton Fink, Miller’s Crossing, Fargo, The Big Lebowski, O Brother, Where Art Though?

Wes Anderson - Nobody makes films like Wes Anderson. The laughs in his films are often subtle and character-driven, and he never does anything at the expense of his characters. With writing partner(s) Owen Wilson and Noah Baumbauch (writer/director of the brilliant The Squid and the Whale), Anderson has made films about fathers and sons and the inherent need for family. Resurrecting the great Bill Murray’s career is something he should be applauded for as well. Best Films: Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums, The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou

Paul Thomas Anderson - Another writer/director in the mold of Scorsese, P.T. Anderson has quickly become one of the most respected filmmakers working today. His films are ambitious, briskly-paced and remarkable. He also wears his influences on his sleeve: Hal Ashby and Robert Altman are obvious, but he clearly loves the films of the French New Wave. All of his influences are melded together in his style that consists of a constantly roving camera that follows all of his characters to hell and back on the road to redemption. Best Films: Hard Eight, Boogie Nights, Magnolia, Punch-Drunk Love

Francis Ford Coppola - Coppola is on my list simply for his work from 1972-1979, a prolific era for the once great filmmaker that included three of the best films ever made (The Godfather, The Godfather Part 2, and Apocalypse Now) and one of the top films of the 70’s (The Conversation). All of his other work, while still occasionally impressive, can’t live up to this time in Coppola’s career, in which he rode one of the most inspiring creative streaks in film history. Best Films: The Godfather, The Godfather: part II, The Conversation, Apocalypse Now, The Cotton Club, The Outsiders, Bram Stoker’s Dracula

Christopher Nolan - Intelligence is the word that comes immediately to mind when I think about Nolan. He’s a gifted filmmaker indeed, but he’s so intelligent that as a movie fan I trust him to always make the right decisions for his films. His stories and characters are often dark and disturbed. Technically speaking, Nolan always brings the goods. His films have an elegance that carries over in all aspects of production. Best Films: Following, Memento, Insomnia, Batman Begins, The Prestige

 

Greg

Steven Spielberg - I'll be frank. Steven Spielberg is the greatest director of all time. This is not a statement I take lightly. Put simply, Spielberg's best films represent everything a movie should be. They show us the lowest depths of humanity (Munich) and the highest peaks (Saving Private Ryan), and sometimes even both (Schindler's List). He also displays the greatest ability for movie magic I've ever seen on the big screen in films like E.T. and Jurassic Park. In fact, I can't think of another filmmaker who even comes close in that respect, and yet he makes it look so easy.

Quentin Tarantino - The ultimate geek filmmaker. Every single one of his movies is brimming with the glee of a man who absolutely loves the art-form he's working in. On a visual level, he's made some of the most eye-popping movies I've seen. Some may call it "style over substance", but I could watch his movies over and over again, never getting tired of the camera tricks on display. And has anyone given us a cooler collection of characters?

Martin Scorsese - Many of the great directors in film history are best known for making a generation-defining crime movie. Martin Scorsese has done it 3 times now, with Mean Streets in the 70's, Goodfellas in the 90's, and The Departed just last year. If that's not rare enough, how many directors are still at the top of their game 40 years into their career? We may not ever see another filmmaker with the longevity of Scorsese, but I'm willing to be he's still got some great films left in him.

Woody Allen -

Putting aside his personal issues and recent filmmaking shortcomings (and believe me, both can be hard), one has to admit that Woody Allen is one of the greatest comedic filmmakers of all time. There aren't many people who can do comedy that is as honest and human as Allen's best films. And as someone madly in love with New York City, I must say that Allen nails what I adore so much about that city in every frame.

Wes Anderson - OK, so there may not be a ton of variation in his films, but if he wants to continue making smart and subtle comedies, I'm not going to complain. It's not like theaters are overflowing with them right now. His style is very flat, but it gives his films a unique identity that is easily recognized as his. And even in the most outlandish films, he always throws in some substance and gives the characters a sense of humanity.

David Fincher - For movie fans of a certain age Fight Club and Se7en are both required viewing. He may not have the biggest resume, but when said resume includes two of the most electrifying films of recent years (both films that leave first-time viewers in stunned silence as the credits roll) you tend to be willing to wait a little longer for greatness. On the bright side though, we have Zodiac on the way next month and his next film, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button already in production.

Tim Burton - He may not be the most consistent director in the world, (Planet of the Apes? They remade that? I don't know what you're talking about.) but there's always a sense of wonder in Tim Burton's movies. It's funny that people think of him as a "dark" filmmaker when Edward Scissorhands, Ed Wood, and Big Fish are some of the most joyful movies I've seen. He's also one of the few directors I can think of where you can see a still frame and say "That's from a Tim Burton movie".

Steven Soderbergh - Few directors have been able to successfully make the transition from indie auteur to big name studio filmmaker but Steven Soderbergh is a notable exception. As gifted in popcorn (Ocean's Eleven) as prestige (Traffic), Soderbergh is one of the most interesting directors working in the studio system today. And if you haven't seen Out of Sight, don't let J.Lo's face on the cover scare you away. It's one of the best crime flicks of the 90's.

Sofia Coppola - There are surprisingly few female directors in Hollywood and fewer still notable ones. When your last name is Coppola however, a gift for filmmaking is something of a birthright. One thing I've noticed about Sofia's work is that she has a very soft style with the camera. I can't quite describe why, but the touch of a woman is apparent in all of her films. In an industry dominated by men, Sofia Coppola provides a very refreshing voice simply through the perspective of a different gender (and a boatload of talent).

Cameron Crowe - If you're a romantic, Cameron Crowe's films are a gift from heaven. If the man has a cynical bone in his body, I've seen no indication of it. That's not to say that his films are always a big ball of sunshine, but there's an infectious joy to his work that should put a smile on anyone's face.

 

Jose

Elia Kazan - When 40s Hollywood was worrying with political correctness and portraits of “all American goodness” Kazan transported his dark theatrical background to the screen (I still wonder how he got away with so many of the things he did). He arguably did some of the best theater-to-film adaptations of all time (aided by “the Method” which he helped create and revolutionized acting forever), including A Streetcar Named Desire. And taking on sociopolitical affairs delivered On the Waterfront (which despite its rumored status as a justification of his very own acts is nothing short of a masterpiece) and Gentleman’s Agreement. Oh he gave us both Marlon Brando and James Dean in the process…  

Federico Fellini -

When the Italian Neorealist movement began, Federico Fellini contributed with two of the best films of all time: La Strada and Nights of Cabiria (both starring his muse and wife Giulietta Massina) but as time moved, Fellini found himself taking on an even more advanced level of exposing humanity. With 8 ½ he creates not only a seminal film about filmmaking, but also one of the finest moments about our need to discover what creates genius. A self professed liar, Fellini exposed the world inside his head, and I for one, have been more than ecstatic to visit the apocalyptic Rome of Satyricon and his dreamt hometown in Amarcord. With Fellini, truth was never more interesting or stranger than fiction.  

Francois Truffaut - As a young man and film critic, Truffaut literally devoured films, which is why when he took on directing them he seemed to have been doing it forever. His first film, The 400 Blows, is one of the most heartbreaking and honest portrayals of childhood ever conceived and the beginning of Truffaut’s collaboration with Jean Pierre Leaud, with whom he created a fascinating semi alter-ego for them both called Antoine Doinel. The Doinel series (which is perhaps the most imaginative “life” cinema has ever created) was his landmark, but with masterpieces such as The Soft Skin and the incomparable Day for Night (which along with 8 ½ homages films as much as it contributes to them) he proved his diversity.  

Alfred Hitchcock - The British director was perhaps one of the cleverest people that ever lived. His films, a wicked combination of suspense, psychological distress, sexual politics and dark humor, were so brilliantly entertaining that few people cared to see the depth they contained. Whether it was necrophilia as a lifestyle in Vertigo, the Cold War paranoia in North by Northwest, the baroque marriage dynamics of Rebecca or the unromantic ways of insanity in Psycho, he was always ahead of his audience and time.

Pedro Almodóvar - Combining Douglas Sirk’s melodramatic sensibility, Alfred Hitchcock’s mischief and Federico Fellini’s irresistible surrealistic humor; this Spanish director has been delivering some of the most uncompromisingly adventurous films for the past two decades. Most of the time he tells stories about unsatisfied women, heartwarming transsexuals, pedophile priests, old fashioned families, and death; but turns them into such complex examinations of his life and our feelings, that the apparent eccentricity of his means never affects his usually sublime ends.   

Billy Wilder - Few people were as diverse in genres, yet consistent in quality as Wilder. Traveling from the intense film noir of Double Indemnity to the irresistible fairy tale with an attitude in Sabrina, Wilder was always in control of what he wanted and how he wanted to say it. He wasn’t a showy director and his films always feel comfortably economic, which is why one finds it easier to relate to his characters (which were perhaps his forte). From the charmingly “normal” C.C Baxter in The Apartment, Marilyn Monroe’s naïve sex goddess in Some Like It Hot or the grand, and deranged, Norma Desmond from Sunset Blvd., Wilder always revealed the potential within humans. Whether it is good or bad is strictly up to us.  

Martin Scorsese - I’ve always had admiration for the flawless Raging Bull, the disturbing Taxi Driver, the darkly funny Goodfellas, and even the allegorically disturbing The Last Temptation of Christ. But it wasn’t until I saw My Voyage to Italy, a documentary where Marty discusses Italian Neorealism for over four hours, that I began to love him. In this film you can almost touch his love for cinema, as he finds interpretations for scenes that might’ve not even been meant to be so thoroughly examined. After this, I took more attentiveness on his work and let myself become involved with the tragic love affair of The Age of Innocence, the doomed cat/mouse game of The Departed, the imperfectly perfect Gangs of New York (which should be appreciated as a historical document) and of course the grand old Hollywood feeling of The Aviator.  

Frank Capra - Not many filmmakers inspire others so much that they’d try to turn his work into a genre of its own. Nowadays we hear about Capra-esque films; which are usually simple stories about ordinary people in extraordinary situations, that learn a valuable lesson while reminding us of traditional values. But these films often indulge in excessive corniness, thinking this is what Capra did. They don’t take into consideration that at the times when Capra was making most of his masterpieces, there was an air of disappointment in the world that he turned into his biggest theme. His characters don’t usually win and if they do, there’s still a bittersweetness hanging over their victory that should make them appreciate it or affect them in some unknown way. When James Stewart fights for his right to speak in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Capra avoids cynicism or tongue in cheek naivety, going instead for a resolute confidence that his ideals, even if they are not respected by anyone else, are the only thing that counts.  

Alfonso Cuarón - Take a look at Cuarón’s filmography and you’ll find absolutely no uniting theme in his work. How can the director of the unapologetically beautiful Y Tu Mamá También be chosen to direct the third Harry Potter film? How did the man who updated A Little Princess into a Dickensian, gothic fantasy deliver the heartbreakingly, time appropriate Children of Men? Here lies the mastery of Cuarón, who easily travels from genre to genre (usually taking along brilliant cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki) without needing to relate his work in any way. But I’m most appreciative of him for Great Expectations, where Cuarón indulges in showing us everything that makes him so great: the uninhibited use of sex as a catalyst, the dazzling camera work, the brilliant musicalization, the ambiguous characters and Gwyneth Paltrow drenched in sunlight asking us to come along for the ride, even if it will hurt like hell.  

Baz Luhrmann - This director’s films often feel as if he woke up one day and spontaneously decided he’d make a determined scene in such and such way. What’s odd about this is that he’s known for his heightened, over-the-top, theatrical films, which usually require lots of rehearsing, technical work and probably many, many takes. Watching them on screen though, he gives us no time, or reason, to disbelieve that Jim Broadbent can do backflips, that dancers perform “Time After Time” on rooftops or that Shakespearean English works amongst lusty teenagers. Luhrmann always has a surprise up his sleeve. His hyperkinetic style is not one everybody appreciates, but it’s one that has constantly restored my faith that cinema is an ever reinventing art form.

 

Lons

When all is said and done, I have fairly mainstream taste in movies.  Any honest accounting of my favorite directors would include a lot of familiar faces.  Your Spielbergs, your Hitchcocks, your David Cronenbergs. 
 
Instead, I thought I'd pick out 10 directors whom I feel deserve more attention.  That's not to say these will all be totally unknown, shadowy figures of mystery.  They're just guys (regrettably, all guys) whose work doesn't seem to get discussed as much as the top-tier, A-list, universally-accepted "great" directors.
 
Joseph Losey - Like a few other members of this illustrious list, Losey's career was spotty.  (He deserves a break though, as he was forced to flee this country after being subpeoned by Joe McCarthy's House Un-American Activities Committee and had to restart a new career in Great Britain.)  But if you're careful to dodge the occasional ridiculousness of a Modesty Blaise or the inscrutable The Accident (based on a thoroughly impenetrable script by Harold Pinter), Losey's filmography is littered with forgotten gems.  He's responsible for the brilliantly twisted pseudo-thriller The Servant, Jeanne Moreau's glamorous, disaffected cruelty in Eva, and of course, the perfect final scene from Mr. Klein, one of the great movie endings of all time.  (Honestly, Klein isn't all that great of a movie the whole way through, dragging as it does in its mid-section.  But it builds to such an amazingly ideal final moment, I feel like someone should remake it just to get to reshoot that scene.  Unbelievable stuff.)
 
Hideo Gosha - One of the names that's usually left off the list of great samurai directors (the one that begins and ends for most filmgoers with Kurosawa and Inagaki), Gosha got off to a ridiculously precocious start with Three Outlaw Samurai and Sword of the Beast.  These are just really dynamic, energetic and surprisingly funny action adventure films, far more approachable and less complicated for Western audiences than typical samurai fare.  I went back and forth between putting Gosha or his countryman Kihachi Okamoto in this spot (the latter made the brutal samurai psychological thriller Sword of Doom.)  The film that clinched it for Gosha was Goyokin, an idiosyncratic samurai film set largely in a snowbound fishing village.  This film's climactic swordfight must be seen by any fans of the genre.  It's a master class in cinematography, editing, just genre filmmaking in general.  A perfectly-constructed action sequence.
 
Andrew Bujalski - Bujalski's only made two films that have seen any kind of release, but they're both terrific and deserve more attention.  Unassuming, lo-fi comedy-dramas, both Funny Ha Ha and Mutual Appreciation were made with cheap 16mm cameras and a cast made up of Bujalski's friends.  (The former is in grainer color, the latter in grainy Clerks-esque black and white).  Comparisons to '90s "slacker" indies by guys like Kevin Smith and Richard Linklater are inevitable, as are references to the founders of this kind of bohemian DIY vibe like Jarmusch and Cassavettes, but Bujalski's style never feels gratuitous or contrived.  This isn't film school homage, but rather a different approach to telling small, intimate stories.  It's hard to imagine his laid-back narratives of awkwardness and uncertainty told in any other fashion.  Funny Ha Ha would just feel wrong shot through with Michael Bay's glossy rod-and-cone-assaulting brightness.
 
Bigas Luna - Most famous in this country for Jamon Jamon, featuring a young and frequently topless Penelope Cruz, Bigas Luna came to my attention when his wildly original Golden Balls hit American DVD a few years ago.  (Has it been that long?)  Featuring career-highlight work from Javier Bardem as a macho real estate developer, Golden Balls is a hybrid of dark comedy, social satire, romantic drama and softcore pornography that, as this sentence makes plain, defies explanation.  Luna's follow-up, Tete and the Moon, the story of  a young boy's obsession with breasts, is similarly strange, bold and memorable.
 
Terence Fisher - The genius behind a good deal of the best Hammer Studios productions, Fisher's long career warrants placement among the all-time great British filmmakers.  I know that's a lot to ask for a guy who made films with names like Frankenstein and the Monster From Hell, but bear with me here.  Fisher's films were rarely, if ever, equal to the sum of their parts.  He made very silly films that took themselves very seriously, and often had much more going on just under the surface.  Take 1968's The Devil Rides Out, a rather goofy riff on devil worship with fairly atrocious special effects that's nonetheless gripping, occasionally scary and a sly takedown of aristocratic British country life.
 
Richard Lester -

Another Brit, this one a bit more famous than Fisher.  Lester, after all, directed the second and third Superman films, which most Americans have seen.  Still, the fact that one man directed the excellent Superman 2, among the greatest superhero movies of all time and by far the best big-screen Man of Steel adventure, as well as the tragic romance Petulia, the Beatles' Help! and Hard Day's Night, the two best adaptations yet of the Three Musketeers story AND the mod classic The Knack...And How To Get It is pretty goddamn impressive.  Lester's deft, dry wit is immediately apparent on screen, sort of the visual-cinematic equivalent of clever wordplay. 
 
Bertrand Tavernier - He's made a lot of war films (particularly WWI-themed films) that I have found rather dreary, but Tavernier's crime films are so carefully observed, ruthless and brilliantly shot, they've earned him a spot on the list.  These films offer him the opportunity to scrutinize individual characters, forced to make impossible decisions under intense social pressure, in a way that a piece enmeshed in French history, like Life and Nothing But, never could.  1981's Coup de Torchon seamlessly relocates a bloody James Cain short story to French Algeria.  1974's The Clockmaker finds a father struggling with the knowledge that his aloof son may be a murderer.  1995's Fresh Bait retells with vivid realism a true story of amateur teenage criminals.  These are characters utterly without hope, driven to kill for reasons they can't quite explain, and they are both highly watchable and deeply disturbing.
 
Peter Weir- Best known Stateside for the woeful Dead Poet's Society, The Truman Show, and Master and Commander (the last of which I probably like more than most Americans), Weir has done much of his best work in his native Australia.  Mel Gibson gives one of his best (okay, one of his only) great performances in the wrenching war drama Gallipoli, which like Losey's Mr. Klein, builds to one of the cinema's great, harrowing final moments.  The provocative, ambiguous Picnic at Hanging Rock is the rare movie that introduces an enigmatic mystery with absolutely no intention of even hinting at a solution.  The Last Wave is an extremely strange, creepy countroom thriller/fantasy in which a perplexed attorney takes up the defense of some Aboriginies with some pretty odd ideas about time and space.  Above all, Weir excells at presenting communities of people, honestly but sympathetically, and always from the inside.  He's able to intuitively understand group dynamics better than almost any other director, and thereby get inside the "communities" in which his films are set and really explore they function.  (Think the ship's crew in Master and Commander or the Amish in Witness.)
 
Jules Dassin - RififiThe Naked CityThieves' Highway.  Brute Force.  Very very few directors really understood noir like Dassin.  (And yes, I know Rififi is more caper than noir, but you get what I'm saying...)
 
Todd Solondz - I consider him undervalued because only his first two films, Welcome to the Dollhouse and Happiness, received any attention at all from the mainstream press or faithful indie audiences.  Storytelling and Palindromes, though fascinating each in their own way, have been either ignored or outright dismissed as lesser efforts.  It's true that Storytelling feels incomplete and Palindromes a bit shrill, but they're both a lot more interesting and humane than most films with political or social themes.  I say "humane" specifically because this, to me, is what sets Solondz's filmmaking apart from other so-called "subversive" filmmakers making movies about shock subjects like racism, abortion or pedophilia.  (Why couldn't HE have made the film in which Dakota Fanning gets raped?)
 
Solondz isn't telling stories about perverts, social pariahs and the mentally ill in order to mock them, or even to psychoanalyze them.  He is challenging his audience to see things from these unexpected, atypical perspectives, to recognize the common humanity we share even with the creepiest, most degraded scumbag.  Dylan Baker's boy-raping father in Happiness gets laughs not because drugging and then molesting your son's friends is funny, but because we can relate to his frenzied anxiety at getting caught doing something you shouldn't, even if we can't relate (hopefully) to his specific circumstances.  Ditto young Aviva's run-in with the Jesus freak family in Palindromes.  I've never had to participate in a Christian pop band composed entirely of orphans, but I have been in awkward evangelical situations from which I wish I could extract myself.  It's something akin to the gauntlet thrown down by Kubrick in Clockwork Orange.  If you really believe in free will, he seems to say, than you must accept Alex DeLarge's desire to be a rapist and degenerate.  Well, replies Solondz, if you really wish to love and accept humanity as it is, then you must accept even those who touch kids or murder obstetricians or sit on their ass smoking pot all day.


 

Scott

Martin Scorsese – You can’t really say enough about how good Scorsese is.  Simply put, he’s one of the best and most influential directors of all time.  People seem to mostly praise his crime films, but the rest of his work proves he is certainly not just a genre director.  Even when he misfires, the films are still interesting and better than a sizable chunk of everything else that’s out there.
Favorites:  Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, The Departed, Goodfellas, The Last Waltz

Wong Kar-wai – I’ve written a great deal about this filmmaker recently, and with good reason.  He is without a doubt one of the most unique and exciting auteurs of our time, creating films that are romantic, compelling, poetic, and visually stunning.  Though he borrows a bit from various aesthetic techniques, he synthesizes them into a style that is all his own.  When at least 5 of your first 8 films are masterpieces, you must be doing something right.  Now that he’s coming over to America to start making films, I’m curious to see which direction the next portion of his career goes.
Favorites:  Fallen Angels, Chungking Express, 2046, In The Mood For Love, Happy Together

Wes Anderson – The quirkiest and most visually interesting voice to come to American comedy in quite some time.  Wes has knocked it out of the park with every film he’s made so far, though arguably less so on his most recent effort.  It’s refreshing to see someone that handles comedy with style and panache, thus separating him from every other comedy filmmaker out there today.  His films take place in a world that can only be his own.  In addition to this, he always finds a way to infuse his stories with just the right amount of drama and poignancy.
Favorites:  Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums, Bottle Rocket, The Life Aquatic

Woody Allen – Another filmmaker that is able to handle comedy and drama with equal brilliance.  Perhaps the quantity outweighs the quality a bit at times, but it’s hard to argue that Woody isn’t one of the most important artists of the last quarter century of filmmaking.  I remember the first time I watched Annie Hall, being completely blown away by the willingness to do whatever the hell he felt like in the story, usually with hilarious results.  After something like 37 films in 37 years, he’s showing no sign of letting up.
Favorites: Annie Hall, Purple Rose of Cairo, Stardust Memories, Manhattan, Sleeper

Akira Kurosawa – Do I really need to explain?  Many have done samurai films, but no one has, or probably ever will, exceed Kurosawa in that area.  He also made some really great non-samurai films and is pretty much responsible for the modern action epic.  There’s also a good chance that every filmmaker on everyone’s list here was influenced by Kurosawa or at least loved his work.
Favorites: Seven Samurai, Yojimbo, Rashomon, Ran, the end of Sanjuro

Francois Truffaut – I’m a huge French New Wave buff and though that period was great because of the variety of films from excellent filmmakers, I’d have to go with Truffaut as my favorite.  The defining film of the period for me is The 400 Blows.  I truly believe that it is absolutely flawless.  And the rest of the Antoine Doinel series is quite good also, even if only in concept and not execution.  He was also a terrific critic and theorist whose passion for cinema is hard to match.
Favorites:  The 400 Blows, Day For Night, Jules and Jim, Stolen Kisses, Shoot The Piano Player

David Lynch –

A true original who refuses to compromise his art.  Whether you “get” his films or not is not important.  They’re about mood and the overall experience first.  The meaning comes later, if at all.  I’m usually not scared or disturbed by films, especially most of what passes for “horror” these days.  Though they don’t always necessarily scare or disturb me, Lynch’s films get in my head and stay there.  If you’ve seen Lost Highway, there’s a scene where Robert Blake’s character approaches Bill Pullman at a party, tells him he’s at his house right now, then gets Pullman to call home.  He calls and Blake’s character answers.  This scene is really creepy.  That moment doesn’t really sum up why he’s one of my favorite filmmakers, but my point is that his films are able to affect me in ways that other works of cinema never do.  And it’s not a film, but he’s responsible for Twin Peaks, one of the coolest TV shows ever.
Favorites:  Mulholland Drive, Blue Velvet, Wild At Heart, The Elephant Man, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me

Alfonso Cuaron – He seems to be just coming into his prime now, which is equally scary and awesome.  I’ve seen all of his films now except for A Little Princess (though someone just loaned it to me, so that’ll change) and I’m a big fan of all of them.  I’m of the belief that even his Great Expectations adaptation is excellent.  He also gets bonus points for versatility.  Can you really look at Y Tu Mama Tambien and Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and guess that they were made by the same director?  And it might be premature, but I think Children of Men is already one of the top five films of the decade so far.
Favorites:  Children of Men, Y Tu Mama Tambien, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Richard Linklater – Another versatile and interesting voice in modern cinema.  He has a gift for dialogue and creating characters that are very realistic and believable.  I also like the fact that he’s willing to jump back and forth between mainstream movies, art house films, and innovative experiments such as his interpolated rotoscoping animation films.
Favorites:  Before Sunset, Dazed and Confused, A Scanner Darkly, School of Rock

Joel (and Ethan?) Coen – Joel is technically the director, but the films are always referred to as Coen Brothers films.  Together they’ve created some of the most innovative, well-written films of the past few decades.  One of my favorite things about them is how they go against the limitations of whatever genre they’re working with, but still hold true to what makes the genre great.
Favorites: Raising Arizona, Barton Fink, Fargo, Miller’s Crossing, The Big Lebowski, O Brother Where Art Thou?

 

Yuki

Akira Kurosawa - A film legend who has inspired many others.  His images are some of the most striking I've seen, always charged with an energy and movement that seems impossible to contain within a frame.  Even his still shots are condensed with a kind of strange, coiled tension.  He is also one of the few directors to effortlessly and fluidly give a moral weight to his visual language, and this is probably what makes him so watchable across cultures and language barriers.

Tom Tykwer - Though he only has a few films under his belt, this is a young filmmaker whose best work I hope is yet to come.  He has the ability to blend fantasy with the mundane in a way that feels more true to life than most films that attempt to do the same thing.  Run Lola Run and Heaven are incredible movies that seem suspended in a sort of dream-like state or parallel universe - a state I think all films should try and attain.    

Michel Gondry -

There is something to be said for a director who can take the kind of hip, clever conceits that make a music video so entertaining and apply them to a feature-length film without losing an audience.  I found last year's Science of Sleep to be an even more profound look than Eternal Sunshine at the human tendencies that can sabotage a relationship.  And his choice to work from creativity and craft rather than a big budget to produce those beautifully organic effects is truly inspiring and admirable.  Gondry is a director who could probably create a beautiful and moving film without the kooky effects and concepts that have made him so popular in the music video world, that is if he even cares to do so.  In any case, he is an important alternative to all the independent filmmakers who take themselves too seriously.

Walter Murch -  Though he is not a director, the sound and film editor Walter Murch has consistently shaped some of the best films around, including Julia, The English Patient, The Conversation, Apocalypse Now Redux, THX1138, and the restoration of Orson Welles' Touch of Evil.  Murch waits for the split second when an actor is no longer conscious of the camera before cutting, or adds distant street sounds onto an interior scene to create another level of story... things that a director can't always control.  He is truly a genius at shaping the pacing, structure, and patterns within a film that are often imperceptible but always felt by the viewer. 

Mikio Naruse - Maybe one of the subtlest director's I've seen, he somehow makes films that feel like the camera just happened to be in the room, and recorded something beautiful that happened one day, but with all the grace and artistry that documentaries lack.  Also, a director who was incredibly attune to female characters and to issues women faced during a time when they were deeply marginalized in the film world. 

Charlie Chaplin - Chaplin's performances are never less than mesmerizing to me, but to think that he directed and wrote the majority of his close to one hundred films is pretty amazing.  His dedication to political and social issues in his films is admirable, and they never seem to lose relevance.  

Penelope Spheeris - I just have to include Penelope Spheeris for being one of the coolest women around.  All I have to say is she directed Wayne's World and Black Sheep.