I just want to put an idea I use out there, and see how people respond.
I've been on a lot of different film projects with a lot of people directing. Especially in the indie world I've frequently run across people that promoted themselves to director based solely on ego, or maybe they inherited money. They direct films, in name, but routinely fail to win the respect of their crew.
When I was a kid in high school, we had an orchestra director that did an excellent job, won the respect of every orchestra he conducted, and took our small school to compete at the national level. So as I matured enough to quit thinking with my ego, I began to look back at his example and study what made him great.
His name was Bob, not Michael Anthony Xavier Excalibur the third. He wore normal clothes, and he really wasn't very nice or political to people. He always looked tired, and frequently lashed out in anger at his crew. So he really didn't follow any of the obvious advice most people immediately go to. I'm not saying that the way he was helped, I'm just making the point that he didn't earn his respect via the color by numbers office etiquette often put forward today. Instead, he showed respect to his people in a different way.
Bob stood in front of the orchestra waving his wand about and flipping furiously through dog eared pages of sheet music parts. but when there was a problem with a section of the orchestra, or an individual, he would stop, go over to them, analyze the problem, and show them how to fix it.
The big difference I see between Bob and many self proclaimed directors I meet is this. He knew how to play every instrument in the orchestra. Not to the level of a first chair violinist, but enough that he actually understood every problem he had to deal with and that his team was dealing with. He yelled a lot, but he never yelled, "You, with the thing, do that better, like I would if I had bothered to learn to play it." He had spent real time and effort learning each persons job, and trying to do it himself. He could pick up a flute and play a lead, or walk to the back and show a new guy how to properly tune a double bass.
It was never "listen to me because I'm in charge of you" it was "listen to me because I know what I'm doing, and because I know what you're doing." That made a huge difference. I don't think any of us respect directors that don't feel like they need to bother understanding the jobs under their command. Not only that, but they do a poor job administrating tasks that they haven't bothered to spend time understanding.
If you want to know if you're doing a good job as a director, ask yourself this question. "if there was no money involved, if no one on the crew had any superior position, would all these people vote for me to direct them?" If not, you need to think about the real level of respect you give them. Not just the hollow respect of pleasantries, but the far more labor intensive respect of taking the time to truly understand what they are going through, literally putting yourself in their position. From what I saw, I think Bob spent many nights alone, just playing a clarinet, or banging on a drum set. You can't replace that kind of effort with an authoritative voice, or a piece of paper that says you're more important. Don't look, or act important. Be Important.
I've been on a lot of different film projects with a lot of people directing. Especially in the indie world I've frequently run across people that promoted themselves to director based solely on ego, or maybe they inherited money. They direct films, in name, but routinely fail to win the respect of their crew.
When I was a kid in high school, we had an orchestra director that did an excellent job, won the respect of every orchestra he conducted, and took our small school to compete at the national level. So as I matured enough to quit thinking with my ego, I began to look back at his example and study what made him great.
His name was Bob, not Michael Anthony Xavier Excalibur the third. He wore normal clothes, and he really wasn't very nice or political to people. He always looked tired, and frequently lashed out in anger at his crew. So he really didn't follow any of the obvious advice most people immediately go to. I'm not saying that the way he was helped, I'm just making the point that he didn't earn his respect via the color by numbers office etiquette often put forward today. Instead, he showed respect to his people in a different way.
Bob stood in front of the orchestra waving his wand about and flipping furiously through dog eared pages of sheet music parts. but when there was a problem with a section of the orchestra, or an individual, he would stop, go over to them, analyze the problem, and show them how to fix it.
The big difference I see between Bob and many self proclaimed directors I meet is this. He knew how to play every instrument in the orchestra. Not to the level of a first chair violinist, but enough that he actually understood every problem he had to deal with and that his team was dealing with. He yelled a lot, but he never yelled, "You, with the thing, do that better, like I would if I had bothered to learn to play it." He had spent real time and effort learning each persons job, and trying to do it himself. He could pick up a flute and play a lead, or walk to the back and show a new guy how to properly tune a double bass.
It was never "listen to me because I'm in charge of you" it was "listen to me because I know what I'm doing, and because I know what you're doing." That made a huge difference. I don't think any of us respect directors that don't feel like they need to bother understanding the jobs under their command. Not only that, but they do a poor job administrating tasks that they haven't bothered to spend time understanding.
If you want to know if you're doing a good job as a director, ask yourself this question. "if there was no money involved, if no one on the crew had any superior position, would all these people vote for me to direct them?" If not, you need to think about the real level of respect you give them. Not just the hollow respect of pleasantries, but the far more labor intensive respect of taking the time to truly understand what they are going through, literally putting yourself in their position. From what I saw, I think Bob spent many nights alone, just playing a clarinet, or banging on a drum set. You can't replace that kind of effort with an authoritative voice, or a piece of paper that says you're more important. Don't look, or act important. Be Important.
