Best directorial debuts?

We could go on listing titles all day, but I was hoping you’d share a few thoughts on the movies you're mentioning.
For instance, what made a particular film stick with you? Why do you think it matters? Usually, once someone shares their take, it sparks a real conversation, which is exactly what we're aiming for here!
I’ll offer my own amateur perspective from time to time—I'm certainly no critic—but I know there are some real cinephiles in this group who always have something insightful to add. I just don't want our threads to turn into nothing more than a grocery list of titles. So please, keep the lists coming, but try to toss in a sentence or two about why a movie caught your eye.
I have to say, looking at what's been posted so far, there's already a great mix of interesting stuff. 👍
On that note, has anyone seen John Sayles' debut, "Return of the Secaucus Seven"?
Sayles has always been one of my favorite directors to emerge from that whole 80s era, though I haven't checked out that specific title yet. It's definitely on my watchlist.

El Mariachi Roberta Rodriguez style!

:klap:

Look, just go ahead and shoot your own movie for $7,000—though if you want to make bank like Rodriguez did, you might want to try signing up for those experimental clinical drug trials out in Texas. Any takers? 😬 I see wiredbison82 brought up Clerks and Kevin Smith, which is a total mess. 👍 That’s some serious indie energy right there—it’s like they won't even let 😢Darren's Pi be aired on TV anymore. 🙏 Spike Lee should have been President based on She's Gotta Have It😁 alone. By the way, I heard a story about Clint Eastwood tearing into someone recently, basically telling them, 'Kid, don't push your luck before I sweep you under the rug.' 🤣

Mark Wood79, can I get a laugh out of the future here? 🙂 Buckle up, because things are about to get messy:

Christoph Waltz To Direct His First Feature Film

🙂

Christian Taylor3 said:Mark Wood79, can we laugh a little about the future here? 🙂 Buckle up, because things might get bumpy:

Christoph Waltz Moving into Directing His First Feature Film

🙂

Haha, hold onto that euphoria—you can never be too cautious.

Let’s wait until he actually finishes his first one before we make any calls.

Speaking of actors, even Dustin Hoffman decided to try directing when he was 72.

Since you’re using aviation metaphors, I’ll play along: Buckle up, but remember you're on a plane, and turbulence happens.

Moving back on topic:

Pather Panchali- Satyajit Ray. The director who put India on the cinematic map started his journey with this beautiful 1955 neorealist film shot in the rural heartlands of India. It follows a single family navigating their difficult daily life—which, unfortunately, was the reality in India at the time.
The film is masterfully directed, and the story is truly moving.

It’s well known that Martin Scorsese always proudly cites Ray’s complete Apu Trilogy, especially Pather Panchali. He’s been championed by many other New Hollywood legends like Dennis Hopper and Francis Ford Coppola, and he was deeply admired by the great Akira Kurosawa.

I should mention, though, that Indian cinema had already made its mark back in 1946 when the film Neecha Nagar won the Grand Prix at Cannes, though I haven't personally seen that one.

Of his more recent debuts, I’ve always had a soft spot for Joe Wright’s Pride and Prejudice. It’s a beautiful piece of work—technically flawless. Wright later proved he wasn't a one-hit wonder by delivering Okayama, which was just as strong.

I’d add another great debut to the list. We're talking about the movie Gone Baby Gone, which managed to win over critics and audiences alike, plus it launched Ben Affleck as a director.

Ben Affleck’s career path is actually kind of an interesting story. Born in Berkeley, California, he basically wanted to act since he was a kid—he even did a Burger King commercial back in the day to get his start. Around age 12, he met Matt Damon, and they went to acting classes together. That’s where their friendship really started, which eventually led to all their shared projects. After some TV work, he showed up in "Dazed and Confused" (1993), and then working with Kevin Smith on indie cult classics like "Mallrats" (1995) and that solid performance in "Chasing Amy" (1997) gave him some momentum. But things didn't really explode until later. While living in an apartment with Matt and his younger brother Casey, Ben and Matt decided to just write something themselves. They wrote "Good Will Hunting" (1997), which changed everything—nine Oscar nominations and two wins, including for the screenplay. That definitely helped. After that, Ben started landing big Hollywood roles, though quality varied, like in "Armageddon" (1998), "Shakespeare in Love" (1998), and "Changing Lanes" (2002), making him a major name. A random bit of trivia: Ben actually played a CIA analyst, Jack Ryan, in "The Sum of All Fears" (2002). That franchise, which previously featured Alec Baldwin and Harrison Ford, didn't really take off, but that type of role is exactly what Matt Damon became famous for playing as Jason Bourne in those action movies. Eventually, Ben decided to switch things up and step behind the camera, successfully joining the ranks of actor-directors like George Clooney, Sean Penn, Clint Eastwood, Robert Redford, Jodie Foster, and even newer names like David Schwimmer or Kirsten Dunst. As for his directorial debut, I guess it was a pretty pleasant surprise. Like one critic noted, it looks like Ben found his niche in Hollywood. Personally, aside from "Chasing Amy" and maybe a few others, I think Ben is better behind the scenes than in front of the camera. (I agree 🙂)

btw, has anyone seen Frozen River?

I'm not entirely sure what you want me to redefine, since there isn't any text here for me to work my magic on, but if you're looking for someone to take a messy pile of ideas and turn them into something that actually sounds like a human being wrote it, then yeah, I guess we're ready to go. Just toss the source material my way whenever you feel like it. kaže:
I’d probably throw in one more incredible debut to the mix, though we're talking about a film this time. I finally sat down to watch *Gone Baby Gone*, and honestly, it’s one of those movies that just sits in your gut long after the credits roll. It isn't exactly a feel-good flick by any stretch of the imagination, but there's something about that gritty, unapologetic way it handles its moral gray areas that really sticks with you. You spend half the runtime wanting to scream at the screen because the characters keep making these impossible choices, yet you can't help but realize they're all just trapped in their own messy realities. It’s a heavy one, definitely not something you'd put on if you're looking for a lighthearted night in, but if you enjoy being left with more questions than answers, it's pretty much perfect.It’s that one from Ben Affleck—you know, the guy who somehow managed to snag both the critics' approval and the audience's heart at the same time.

Shout out to Ben—that was an absolute masterclass. We finally figured out who the real brains behind the whole Affleck-Damon operation actually is. 😬 Now we're all just sitting around, waiting for someone to actually make a move.I honestly don't know why I even bother checking these boards sometimes, but here we are again.'. 🙂

By the way, has anyone actually sat down to watch this? I was watching Frozen River the other night, and honestly, it’s one of those movies that just sits in your gut long after the credits roll. It’s got that heavy, unrelenting atmosphere that makes you feel like you’re shivering right along with the characters, even if you're wrapped in a blanket on your couch. There’s something about that gritty, desperate struggle for survival in a frozen landscape that feels so raw and unpolished, which is exactly why it works. It doesn't try to sell you a Hollywood version of hardship; it just lays out the cold, hard reality of people pushed to their absolute limits by circumstance. I found myself thinking quite a bit about how much we take for granted in our everyday lives, compared to the sheer, exhausting weight of what these people were dealing with just to get by. It’s a tough watch, sure, but it’s the kind of story that stays with you because it refuses to look away from the uncomfortable truths.?

Honestly, what an incredible debut from Courtney Hunt. By the way, while I was hanging around Sundance, Quentin Tarantino—sitting there on the jury like he owns the place—was actually gushing about how Hunt’s script is easily one of the most gripping thrillers we’re going to see all year. And Melissa Leo? Man, she is a total revelation. You just can't shake the feeling that this story about smuggling immigrants across the US border has everything it needs to be something special. What’s missing? I haven't heard that name in a while, though I suppose some people just have a knack for staying relevant even when they shouldn't. I guess I’ll just throw some watermelon in there.. 😬 Definitely worth checking out. 👍

Just a quick, on-topic book recommendation for anyone interested:

So, I finally did it—I actually made my first film..



Twenty legendary directors sit down to talk about their very first films, edited by Stephen Lowenstein and published by Paramount Pictures in New York, 2006.

Ever since the French New Wave started making waves back in the fifties, we’ve been stuck with this pervasive idea that the director is the sole creative genius behind every movie. That whole concept of "auteur theory" really took shape in those old film journals as a way to push back against the big Hollywood studio system—you know, those massive production machines that mostly just churned out literary adaptations. Back then, the critics argued that working within those rigid studio frameworks made it nearly impossible to produce anything truly inventive or driven by raw creative impulse, so they championed the idea of film as a direct expression of a director's unique vision. Even though anyone who has actually worked on a set knows that filmmaking is an incredibly expensive, massive group effort, we still cling to this somewhat romanticized notion of the singular "author" figure. In reality, that kind of pure, unchecked authorship is pretty rare, usually only popping up in indie short films; once you get into the world of major commercial features, that level of individual control almost completely vanishes.

I’m not trying to stage some grand coup against the idea of the director as an auteur here, if that’s what you’re worried about. My point is simply that when a budget starts ballooning and those heavy-handed commercial demands kick in, that sense of creative control tends to evaporate pretty quickly. Take Stephen Lowenstein’s book *My First Film*, for example. He’s a filmmaker himself with a handful of decent short films under his belt, and he put together this collection of twenty interviews with established directors—including guys like Steve Buscemi and Gary Oldman—discussing their early works, which were hit or miss at best. It captures that specific window of time before they were raking in the massive Hollywood paychecks that eventually caused most of them to trade in that raw, youthful creative energy for something a bit more polished and predictable. That said, Lowenstein wasn't exactly consistent with his own rules. He claims he only picks projects where he feels a "real sense of authorship," yet he decided to interview Oliver Stone about *Salvador* (1986), which was actually his third feature. If you’re looking for a reason why he broke his own editorial standards like that, you probably won't find it in artistic integrity; it’s much more likely a calculated move to get a big-name star like Stone on the book cover to drive up sales.

In the intro, Lowenstein basically admits that the whole idea for this collection of interviews—chatting with famous directors about their debut features—hit him while he was still reeling from the chaos of filming his own short. He set out with three specific goals: give readers a real "insider's look" at how a production actually functions, introduce us to the director’s actual personality, and dig into the gritty, technical side of how they actually shoot. Because of that, the questions are pretty much engineered to hit those three pillars every single time. Now, if you want to get pedantic, you could argue the book feels a bit formulaic since he sticks to the same template for everyone, but honestly, the end result is actually quite engaging and packed with info. You end up learning if these directors were cinephiles from day one, what shaped them during their formative years, where they went to film school, and the nightmare of trying to secure funding for a first project. He even covers how the shoot went, how the critics reacted, and where they stand today. One of the more entertaining bits is hearing how they felt right before the cameras started rolling. Take Ang Lee, for instance; he held some sort of traditional ceremony with his crew to bring good luck, which apparently worked. Then there’s Tom DiCillo, who was so incredibly nervous the night before production that he polished off half a bottle of vodka and woke up the next morning with a massive hangover.

It’s pretty obvious that when you sit down to listen to these directors, their stories range from wildly different to strangely similar. One thing most of them have in common is that they basically stumbled into filmmaking without knowing the first thing about technical camera work. You see folks like Neil Jordan, Mike Figgis, Steve Buscemi, and Stephen Frears all leaning heavily on their cinematographers to actually make things look decent. Even today, Allison Anders admits she’s still essentially clueless when it comes to the technical side of a camera—she once joked that her own personal snapshots are so terrible she’s actually embarrassed to tell people at a local CVS that she does this for a living. But honestly, having a shaky grasp on lighting isn't even the biggest headache; for most directors, the real nightmare is just trying to scrape together enough cash to get started. If you listen to the Coen brothers talking about their debut, *Blood Simple*, they were basically walking door-to-door through small businesses, trying to convince random entrepreneurs to throw money at their vision. Then you have Kevin Smith, who was either incredibly brave or just plain delusional, racking up over twenty-five thousand dollars in credit card debt just to fund *Clerks*. He wasn't even worried about the legal fallout, mostly because he figured the worst-case scenario was just spending the next two decades paying off interest. I suppose his story serves as a sort of "welcome to the industry" guide for any aspiring director looking to shoot a guerrilla-style indie film while simultaneously gambling away their entire future. Of course, finishing the movie is only half the battle; then you have to deal with the soul-crushing task of finding a distributor. That’s where Smith’s luck gets almost unbelievable, since a series of wild coincidences led Miramax to pick up *Clerks*, turning his struggle into a total Hollywood fairy tale. On the flip side, if you look at Gary Oldman’s directorial debut, *Nil by Mouth*, you realize how much easier it is when you've already spent years being an established star. Without his connection to Luc Besson, getting that three-and-a-half million dollar budget would have been a much longer, much more painful uphill climb. It’s a similar story for J.P. Hogan with *Muriel's Wedding*; he’s pretty upfront about the fact that without a little help from Jane Campion, his film—which turned out to be quite a hit—probably never would have made it past the planning stages.

There’s really nothing quite like the chaos that ensues when a director tries to wrangle a group of actors together. I mean, Mike Figgis definitely had it rough back when he was filming *Internal Affairs* in '88. His audition process was basically a fever dream; he had to sit through an interview with Christopher Walken, who was incredibly awkward and wouldn't stop making these weird snorting noises, and then there was Harvey Keitel, who actually tried to negotiate a sex scene with his secretary into the script just to get the part. It gets even more ridiculous once you actually start production, though. I heard Tommy Lee Jones once pulled him aside during filming just to complain that Melanie Griffith’s trailer was a good foot longer than his own—and honestly, knowing him, he probably actually measured it just to be sure. Then you have the whole Sting situation, which sounds like a total circus, with girls constantly chasing him down the street, lifting up their skirts and screaming for him to take a look. Just absolute madness.

While we could probably keep listing similar anecdotes all day, the real takeaway from those interviews is how incredibly open these directors were with Lowenstein. They didn't hold back, laying out their doubts, their struggles, and those inevitable moments of hesitation that hit everyone eventually, regardless of their status. A lot of them also drifted into broader philosophical debates about the creative process itself. Take Neil Jordan, who’s as respected for his novels as he is for his directing; he offered this pretty sharp perspective on the gap between writing prose and writing a screenplay. To him, working on a script is almost a "pure joy" because it's really just the warm-up act for the actual heavy lifting on set. Prose, on the other hand, is a finished product in its own right, which carries a much heavier weight of responsibility. Then you have Anthony Minghella weighing in on the relationship between writing and the physical act of filming. He pointed out that writing lacks that empirical connection between effort and outcome; you can spend twelve grueling hours staring at a page and end up with absolutely nothing to show for it. With filmmaking, though, there are rarely days where you can't point to something and say, "Hey, look, we actually made something today."

Reading about how these legendary directors navigated the messy journey from that first spark of an idea to the final critical reception of their debut isn't just entertaining—it’s occasionally quite inspiring. Their experiences do more than just pull back the curtain on the supposedly glamorous world of Hollywood; they prove that beyond whatever specific talent you happen to possess, success demands a massive amount of creativity, grit, and sheer nerve. And, let’s be honest, having the right connections certainly doesn't hurt either. So, I'm not going to go out on a limb by suggesting my first film should be mandatory reading for aspiring filmmakers, though it might be worth a glance even for those who've been around the block a few times.

+

My First Film 2.

Short, sweet, and hopefully better.

👍

If I had to pick a recent movie, I’d go with (500) Days Of Summer), directed by Marc Webb
Not bad for a directorial debut. Honestly, it’s actually pretty great. 👍

There is an endless list of things I could bring to this discussion, but there is little sense in rehashing titles already mentioned. Instead, I shall turn my attention to the films that have gone unaddressed.

Following (Nolan)... in terms of sheer impact, it stands shoulder-to-shoulder with Pi. I watched Memento first, followed by Following, and found them to be equally compelling. It centers on a man who stalks strangers he encounters on the street, operating under a strict rule: never follow the same person twice. Naturally, that rule is broken quite early on. 😉

Following was produced for roughly six thousand dollars. Given that it was shot in London, that budget is even more impressive than Robert Rodriguez’s seven thousand for his film shot in Mexico.

In a curious twist, Nolan’s own uncle actually appears in the film 🙂 ...just a simple way to help out a nephew, I suppose 👍 ...and there is one other aspect I find particularly redeeming: the location shooting. It is not merely a hundred times cheaper than building sets, but it lends the film a sense of gritty realism that many directors struggle to achieve.

Steven Torres41 said:And as for Kelly, we are still waiting for him to prove he has anything left in the tank after Southland Tales and The Box failed to impress. Fortunately, time is still on his side.

I am inclined to believe Kelly is a one-hit wonder, and that his best work is behind him. As much as I pity Kelly, I feel an equal sense of disappointment for Akerlund; a man who transitioned from directing music videos to helming a fantastic spin-off, only to follow it up with that nonsense, Horsemen. 🤦

I’m throwing another interesting newcomer into the mix, Rian Johnson with his movie Brick. I guess I expect more good stuff from him down the line. 🙂

'Brick' is one of those movies that feels different. In a good way, I suppose. Most things you find at a Blockbuster or playing in mainstream theaters these days are just high-budget productions that don't really care about plot or character development. With 'Brick,' the story is set in a high school, but even though it has some teen movie elements, it offers a completely different vibe and tone. The plot is well-constructed and layered, having this natural flow where things unfold slowly, but they still hit hard for the characters and the story. The director and writer, Rian Johnson, seems to have figured out the most important thing for movies involving teenagers. High school is their entire world, and everything happening there carries massive weight for them. When these kids get pulled into a web of betrayal, murder, and drug dealing—and when they talk using this specific slang that sounds more like something out of a 40s or 50s noir than modern American teens—you realize you're watching something special. It shows a lot of talent from the director and the whole crew. It probably won't draw massive crowds, but it'll definitely find a cult following. You don't even need to be a noir fan to enjoy the structure and the characters, who feel unique but somehow still fit perfectly into that school setting. There’s a real social hierarchy here; everyone is divided, and moving up the ladder is basically impossible. The lead, Brendan (played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt), is this loner type who stays to himself, pretty indifferent and closed off. But after getting a mysterious call from his ex, Emily (played by Felicity Hun), he gets dragged into the world controlled by The Pin (played by Marshall Allman), the local drug dealer who walks around with a cane and runs his operation out of a basement (which leads to some funny moments). Nothing is what it seems, and once Brendan finds Emily dead, he dives deeper to find the truth, getting some shady help from Brain (played by David Mazouz). He goes up against dealers and a femme fatale who manipulates everyone (played by Nora Zehetner), eventually finding an answer that hurts him but lets him move on. It’s an interesting blend of noir and teen drama, even if they don't share much besides the setting. The story actually requires you to pay attention, which is enough reason to give it a shot.

Maybe someone could say something about Herzog's Signs of Life (Signs of Life), Wong Kar-wai's As Tears Go By (As Tears Go By), and Ang Lee's Pushing Hands (Pushing Hands). 🙂

edit:
If I don't write it now, I'll forget—The Chaser (The Chaser) by Na Hong-jin 🙏
Everything is listed here:

At first glance, you see all the usual tropes: a serial killer targeting sex workers, a guy nobody believes who’s left alone to catch him, a race against the clock to save victims... We see these plots on American TV every single night. And don't even get me started on the movies. Some critics say it feels like a mix of Fincher's *Seven* and the show *24*. But honestly... *The Chaser* stands out from those other genre pieces because it’s actually a great thriller, and then there's more to it than just being a thriller. Just like *Oldboy* or that incredible *Memories of Murder* (which, besides everything else, shares those intense foot chases through narrow alleys), beneath the polished surface of a thriller, *The Chaser* packs a heavy dramatic punch and some sharp social commentary. That satire might grate on some people, though, because the police incompetence is so maddeningly high that even an average American viewer—used to seeing much more professional investigations on shows like *Law & Order*—might find themselves frustrated by the lack of skill. Still, it's worth noting the script is based on a true story. I guess police departments everywhere are pretty much the same. The suspense is handled weirdly, too, since it isn't a "whodunit." You know who the killer is within fifteen minutes, and (spoiler!) he's caught within the first half hour. And yet, even his written confession doesn't help the cops find where he's hiding a tied-up, unconscious victim surrounded by bodies. To make matters worse, if they don't find physical evidence fast, he might actually get released due to a botched arrest. The only hope lies with a former cop, fired for corruption, who's now working as a pimp trying to get his "investment" back. This anti-hero reluctantly starts this dark journey through the city streets—searching, as it turns out, for his own soul.
*The Chaser* doesn't shy away from clichés: the sex worker with a "heart of gold" (forced into the life but caring for her young daughter), the kid who's way too smart for her age, and the pimp who moves from pure greed toward a vague kind of redemption. I guess the depiction of a bureaucratic, incompetent police force isn't just a local thing; it's a common trope, much like the thin motivation for the psycho-killer (impotence!), which maybe could have been explored a bit deeper. Still, debut director Na Hong-jin manages to juggle all these elements impressively, never giving the audience a second to breathe. *The Chaser* is basically a rollercoaster that grabs you so hard that you might only start processing it once everything is over and you've survived the bitter, anti-climactic ending. The director handles emotions well, in a subtle way that will probably be watered down in that upcoming American remake being produced by Leonardo DiCaprio. He plays with audience expectations quite well, staying unpredictable and cranking up the suspense to almost unbearable levels. It’s dark, heavy, brutal, and harsh. It doesn't offer fake hope or cheap Hollywood catharsis; by leaving so much in a gray area, it sticks with you. This chaser will stay with you long after the credits roll.

Jan De Bont’s *Speed*—man, talk about a debut. You could tell right away this former cinematographer knew his stuff... he had this incredible knack for building tension and moving the camera in a way that actually let you follow the chaos instead of just feeling dizzy. It was clear the guy had learned from some serious heavyweights behind the scenes, and the whole thing felt so incredibly fresh at the time. He definitely carried some of that magic forward into his later work, but honestly? None of his other movies ever quite hit the same high note as this one...

Take a look at this directorial debut: http://www.filmski.net/filmovi/4695/glad
Steve McQueen’s Hunger is an excellent piece—stylized to near perfection, which matters more to me than the actual plot anyway. That 15-minute conversation between Bobby and the priest—mostly one long shot for the first 12 minutes—was particularly striking. A great achievement...

The list is already pretty thin. 🙂

Michael Nichols - Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
Clint Eastwood - Play Misty For Me
Ridley Scott - Duel
Emir Kusturica - When We Are Branded
Robert Benton - Bad Company
Danny Boyle - Shallow Grave
John Singleton - Boyz n the Hood
Slobodan Sijan - Whistleblower
Lawrence Kasdan - Body Heat
Bertrand Tavernier - Rendez-vous with a Stranger
Jiri Menzel - Closely Watched Trains
Danis Tanovic - No Man's Land

Why are debut films so much better? I noticed this a long time ago. If an auteur is authentic and has potential, it shows right out of the gate. A first film—much like a debut album—is the absolute "best of" everything the director has learned up to that point. Without the trap of falling into a predictable routine, you get these incredible, once-in-a-lifetime achievements. What’s most interesting? Most of these were made on shoestring budgets. It just proves money isn't everything. Only Orson Welles seemed to have top-tier resources from day one, and he never saw those conditions again.

The Sundance Film Festival counts both the first and second films. If we included second features, this list would look way more impressive (think Tarkovsky - Andrei Rublev, Chabrol - The Cousins... etc.).

Look, besides names like Welles or Tarantino, you've also got Pasolini, Wes Anderson, Scorsese, Resnais, Dumont, Linklater, Visconti, Varda, Gilroy, Corbijn—and honestly, a thousand more. This whole debate is kind of pointless because there are actually very few truly great directors out there, especially if you set aside the ones who got swallowed up by the Hollywood machine like Hawks or Ozu, whose first movies were pretty rough anyway.

Technically, "Mete" isn't Bogdanovich's debut. It’s got this weird sci-fi messiness to it that feels almost hilarious—or maybe just terrible—once you've seen his other early stuff.

Scott Long71 said:The most fascinating part is that most of these were put together under incredibly modest production budgets. It just goes to show that having deep pockets isn't actually the deciding factor.

It’s more than that, really. Sometimes the money follows the film. If you have the capital, sure, you pay for what you need. But if you're broke? Then you better have a concept so damn sharp and original that its sheer ingenuity compensates for the lack of funding. Look at something like *Braindead*.

Someone already brought up Hong-jin Na. I agree. It’s easily one of the best films from that era. For a debut, it’s genuinely impressive. 🙏

I caught Marlon Brando's One-Eyed Jacks the other day (we can discuss that more on the recent watches thread), and it's a solid, underrated piece of work. It was his first and last shot at directing.

Arthur Garcia59 said:on top of names like Welles, Tarantino, and the rest, you’ve also got Pasolini, Anderson, Scorsese, Resnais, Dumont, Berkovich, Erice, Varda, Gilroy, Corbijn, and a thousand more. Honestly, this whole thread feels a bit pointless because there aren't actually that many truly great directors—especially if you set aside the ones who fully merged with the studio system, like Hawks or Ozu, whose first films were pretty rough.

"Meteor" isn't technically Bogdanovich's debut. It has this weird sci-fi messiness to it that feels almost absurdly bad when you compare it to his other early work.

Yeah, I agree the topic is kind of silly. It’d be better to just stick to those polls you've been running, which I assume were your way of venting.
You listed some genuinely top-tier titles, but you just listed them. You didn't actually dive into them, probably because you didn't feel like it, even though I know you could. It might be easier to just admit the premise of the thread is flawed.

And saying there aren't any great directors isn't quite right either; you've got Huston, Welles, Visconti, Vigo (sadly a flash in the pan), Berlanga (whose work we saw recently at that film festival in New York), Resnais, Godard, Truffaut, Chabrol, Malle, Cassavetes, Tarkovsky, Polanski, Scorsese, De Palma, Nichols, Malick, Lynch, the Coen brothers, von Trier, Tarantino, and Boyle... plus plenty of others.

There's plenty of material to work with here.

Also, it wouldn't be totally out of line to mention someone's debut if it was actually a solid film, but looking at this list, that's a rare occurrence.

Mark Wood79 said:It’s not exactly true that there aren't many great directors;

but then again, Amanda Nguyen5 mentioned: The whole thread is kind of pointless because there are hardly any legendary directors left, especially if you don't count the ones totally swallowed by the studio system like Hawks or Ozu, whose first movies were pretty bad. 😉

so, yeah, a few greats with bad debuts. I guess I agree with your last point though. 👍

rustyscout34 said:but my friend Amanda Nguyen5 mentioned: The whole discussion is a bit pointless because there are so few legendary directors, especially if you set aside those industry veterans like Hitchcock or Spielberg, who actually had rough starts with their first films. 😉

So, we're talking about a handful of greats who had bad debuts. That said, I'm totally with you on your last point. 👍

My bad, I didn't read that sentence closely enough. Sorry, Amanda Nguyen5!

Relax, this isn't a stupid topic—Amanda Nguyen5 was just having a rough day yesterday (though I have no idea what she meant by "stupid" 🙂). This thread is basically immortal, mostly because there are endless cult classics out there that deserve a deep dive here, whether we're revisiting old favorites, rediscovering gems, or passing them along to someone else... It’s a pretty great concept if you ask me. 😍

goldenhound32 said:following (nolan)...it's actually right up there with his other stuff...I watched Memento first, then followed it up with Following, and honestly, it was just as good... it's about this guy who stalks people he sees on the street. He has this rule where he never follows the same person twice. Of course, that rule gets broken pretty quickly 😉

Following only cost about six thousand dollars, and since we know it was shot in London, that's even more impressive than Robert Rodriguez's seven thousand for a movie filmed in Mexico.

Nolan's uncle even acts in it 🙂 ...I guess some people just want to help out their nephews 👍 ...and another thing I really appreciate is the location shooting; not only is it a hundred times cheaper than using studio sets, but it gives the film a sense of realism that a lot of directors struggle to capture.

Anyway, that's a top-tier recommendation. I've probably been meaning to watch Nolan's Following for years now—I think I actually added it to my watchlist the moment you signed up. It's definitely next on my list. 😉

Wait, didn't someone mention Ridley Scott's Duelists earlier, Maria Barnes?

Scott Long71 said:Michael Nichols - Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
Clint Eastwood - Play Misty For Me
Ridley Scott - Duelists
Kusturica - When Father Was Busy
Robert Benton - Bad Company
Danny Boyle - Shallow Grave
John Singleton - Boyz n the Hood
Slobodan Sijan - If Anyone Starts Singing
Lawrence Kasdan - Body Heat
Bertrand Tavernier - A Sunday in Lyon
Jiri Menzel - Closely Watched Trains
Danis Tanovic - No Man's Land

Also a solid list, Must Watch. I'm already downloading one (I'll have more to say about Following and Duelists once I've seen them).

Why are those early films so good? I noticed that a while ago and have been thinking about it; if an auteur is authentic and has real potential, it has to show in their debut. A first film is like a musician's first album—it's the distilled essence of everything they've learned up to that point, and without the baggage of routine, it can lead to something extraordinary, sometimes even unrepeatable achievements. What's most interesting is that most of them were made with relatively tiny budgets, which just proves that money isn't the deciding factor. I suppose Orson Welles was the exception, having access to massive resources that he likely never saw again.

It’s basically a total wasteland out there, just a complete void where nothing makes sense anymore. That fits perfectly; what an incredible story. Honestly, Tanović must have been born under a lucky star—I mean, how many directors actually walk away with an Oscar for their very first feature? By the way, you all should track down that great interview with him and his collaborator in an old issue of American Playboy. Unfortunately, they aren't exactly easy to find online, but I’ll try to get some scans uploaded to a related thread soon.

The way they run this local film festival is kind of a joke; they define "first films" so narrowly that they only count the absolute debut, which feels like such a missed opportunity. If they actually opened things up to include second features, the lineup would be absolutely stacked—I’m talking about stuff like Tarkovsky’s *Andrei Rublev* or Chabrol’s *The Cousins*, plus a whole bunch of other heavy hitters that would make the programming look much more impressive.

Speaking of which, I’m currently sitting here wading through this absolutely brilliant article—it's actually worth a read if you have a moment to spare:



I was sitting around thinking about Michael Cimino’s final cut, and honestly, it feels like we’re all just watching the slow, messy dissolution of an era. There’s something almost poetic, if you’re into that kind of melancholy, about seeing a director who once commanded the scale of something like *Heaven's Gate* lose his grip on the narrative thread in these later years. It isn't even really about whether the movie works—because, let's be real, it probably doesn't—but more about this sense of watching a titan stumble through the dark while everyone else just stands around with popcorn, waiting for the inevitable crash. You want to root for the vision, I really do, but at some point, you have to wonder if the vision is just a ghost haunting the editing room.

I finally realized that... I finally sat down to watch *The Deer Hunter*, and honestly, I’m still trying to process whether I should feel enlightened or just deeply depressed. It’s one of those movies that really takes its time, unfolding with this slow, heavy rhythm that makes you feel like you're sitting right there in the room with them, feeling every bit of the tension. It’s beautifully shot, sure, but it’s also pretty brutal in how it handles the psychological toll of war, moving from those peaceful scenes in Pennsylvania to the absolute chaos of Vietnam. It doesn't pull any punches when it comes to showing how much people can lose, and it leaves you with this lingering sense of emptiness that’s hard to shake off once the credits roll. Definitely not something you watch if you're looking for a lighthearted evening, but it’s undeniably powerful. I can't really make sense of what you're trying to get at here, but if you're looking for me to work some magic on a specific post, just toss it my way and I'll see what I can do. I guess I'm just second in line here, sitting on the sidelines while everyone else gets their say. I honestly don't know what to make of this film, but I suppose sitting through two hours of cinematic mediocrity was a choice I made, even if it wasn't necessarily a smart one. It felt like watching a high-budget commercial for a product that nobody actually asked for, which is probably a pretty accurate metaphor for my life lately. 😵 My bad, I’m heading straight to the store. I suppose I should have seen this coming, given how much we love to romanticize these old-school legends, but watching Thunderbolt and Lightfoot try to navigate the modern era feels a bit like watching a vintage Cadillac attempt to race a Tesla on a highway in downtown Chicago. It’s charming in a dusty, nostalgic sort of way, I guess, if you’re into that kind of thing, but let’s be honest—it’s mostly just a slow-motion train wreck of outdated expectations meeting a reality that simply doesn't care about their legacy.. 🙂

P.S. He was probably just keeping an eye on who would be the first one to go full Hillcoat. Ghosts... of the Civil Dead?

Mark Wood79 said:My bad, I totally skimmed that sentence. Sorry, Amanda Nguyen5!

Just one more thing—it wouldn't hurt to specify which Debut film you're talking about, right?