who are the greatest geniuses in cinema history?

 We admire geniuses, we love them, but they discourage us. They are great concentrations of intellect and emotion, we feel that they have soaked up all the available power, monopolizing it and leaving none for us. We feel that if we cannot be as they, we can be nothing. Beside them we are so plain, so hopelessly threadbare. How they glitter, and with what an imperious way they seem to deal with circumstances, even when they are wrong.

   - Lionel Trilling, Introduction to Orwell's Homage to Catalonia


   The idea of genius, along with attempts to explain or define it, has always been a slippery slope. Greater thinkers than I have opined on the subject, at length, and there’s no shortage of commentaries on the ‘Net. But just what is genius? What are its precise boundaries? Is genius something we’re born with, or can it be learned and cultivated? Are ‘geniuses’ that different from the rest of us? Do some individuals simply have a greater flair for publicity and image? Who can say where genius ends and self-promotion begins? Are 'geniuses' really grifters in disguise?  

   Or do those we deem genius simply have more energy, determination and persistence than the rest of us? Were these the only qualities necessary then figures like Ed Wood and Harry Stephen Keeler would be right up there among the all time greats. And for all their respective cult followings, the conventional wisdom would vote against calling Wood or Keeler a genius. Obviously some qualitative factors have to enter into the equation: at minimum a true genius has to be good at his chosen artistic (or otherwise) mode of expression.

   But more to the point, how can we apply the notion of genius to the movies? [1] Does it even make sense to mention the term in connection with the movies? Interesting that other art forms – music, literature, painting, sculpture – have canons that are pretty well solidified. Accordingly, the individuals who merit the title have long been identified.

   However … (and it’s a big however), film is a unique art form. Among other things it combines several art forms in its final product, all of which makes it more difficult to arrive at parameters, much less who qualifies. The challenges, it seems, are many, but can be broken down into a few basics. First, for all the huffing and puffing of the auteur theory, film is ultimately a collaborative art, and a highly technical one at that, and the witches’ brew final product is almost always a case of the whole never quite equaling the sum of the parts. The other issue is that cinema is a quintessentially commercial art, and matters of aesthetics can never be completely separated from mass consumerism.

   Further, movies didn’t always have the highbrow cachet they enjoy today. Indeed, for the first half century or so of their very existence the movies were viewed as a commodity, and the idea that they were great art was considered folly at best. All that changed in 1952 with the U. S. Supreme Court’s decision on Joseph Burstyn, Inc. v. Wilson (also referred to as the Miracle Decision) in which the court held that cinema was indeed an artistic medium and among other things entitled to First Amendment protection.

   For our deliberations here, however, it’s the aforementioned collaborative nature of cinema that’s the monkey wrench. To wit, and for better or worse, in the context of cinema we use the term ‘genius’ almost solely in connection with directors [2]. Occasionally screenwriters, cinematographers, and performers get a mention, and, very occasionally, producers. But this reveals a decided prejudice for the creative side and diminishes those active in the, arguably equally important, technical, management and promotional areas. In the technical and -like areas, along with the obvious candidates of editors and cinematographers, do we include wardrobe designers, art directors, set designers, special effects wizards, makeup artists, hairdressers, film restoration specialists, titles designers?

   If we define genius as someone who made a signal impact and influence on the art, we’d have to give serious consideration to the much maligned movie moguls, especially those of the Golden Age, the Harry Cohns and Louis Mayers of this world, alongside the more aesthetically correct auteur producers like Val Lewton, Irving Thalberg and Daryl Zanuck. But if we include studio executives, how about the powers behind the throne like Ida Koverman at MGM during Mayer’s reign? And while we’re talking management, should agents figure into the mix? In the technical department, a case might be made for Technicolor guru Natie Kalmus.

   Whatever the parameters, be they aesthetic, commercial or technical, is a consistent body of high level work over a long period of time sufficient? Do we forgive the occasional misfire? Is one transcendent work sufficient? Do historical elements figure into the mix? Are the works of Sofia Coppola and Kathryn Bigelow less significant because they appeared a century after those of Lois Weber and Germaine Dulac?

   Here I invoke the oft-noted and self-defeating caveat that it’s meaningless to create lists like these, perhaps worse than meaningless, since tastes, perceptions, and even definitions inevitably change over time (translation: it’s all very subjective). And yet, and for all my long winded reservations above, I thought it might be fun to list my choices of the top ten cinematic geniuses of all time. It pained me to cut it off at ten – I was tempted to lengthen it to twenty. As a compromise I include an honorable mention section of arguably lesser lights whose contributions, while significant, and all possessing at least some spark of genius, were nonetheless in my opinion more specialized or of a lesser degree in areas like aesthetics, impact, and influence.

   I’ll admit my selections betray a certain favoritism for the offbeat, experimental, independent and subversive. There’s also an undeniable Hollywood/Euro bias, along with a preference for the artistic side over the technical or managerial. Still, perspicacious readers may find themselves scratching their heads at the absence of some pretty big names. Indeed, a few of the entries, especially the honorable mentions, may well be cringe inducing to some tastes. And no, in case you wondered, Ed Wood doesn’t make the cut, though the thought did occur to me. Nonetheless, and echoing the sentiment above, some of the all-time greats are conspicuously absent. They are familiar and we needn’t mention them by name. In one sense these greats of cinema, and here I refer mostly to directors, made the same film over and over, and did so very well within the confines of budget, studio, genre and era. The stories, performers and techniques may have varied, but the underlying philosophic and aesthetic vision was always the same, most of the time anyway. Such individuals were expert at creating expert films, films that were supremely well made but lacking that special something – dare I say, genius – that characterizes the work of perhaps less proficient artists who nonetheless created films that were more compelling and exciting.

   In any event, my own bottom line: to be designated a cinematic genius, an individual had to create works that were not only of high intrinsic value, but more important, new, exciting or groundbreaking, that allowed us to experience the medium, and by extension the world, and perhaps ourselves, in fresh and unexplored ways. Helming a work, or works, that today we consider revolutionary wasn’t a requirement, but it didn’t hurt.
   I lean toward multi-taskers philosophically, and depending on how one defines these things, a majority of my top ten might be considered such, less so for the honorable mentions. In any case most of the top tier choices are hardly shocking, though a couple may raise eyebrows. It’s obvious I prefer the old over the new: the test of time has to count for something. On the other hand, as opined above, even a consistently high level of work over time in itself doesn’t qualify as genius [3]. I’ve demurred from any life’s work summaries as most of the folks on the list have had a ton written about them already. So, with drumroll, my choices are (listed more or less in chronological order):

Lois Weber
Charlie Chaplin
Fritz Lang
Irving Thalberg
Busby Berkeley
Orson Welles
Val Lewton
Bernard Herrmann
Roger Corman
tie, Federica Fellini,
   Michelangelo Antonioni

  Honorable mention: John Alton, Kenneth Anger, Fred Astaire, Ingmar Bergan, Robert Bresson, Tod Browning, Jack Cardiff, William Castle, Jean Cocteau, Joan Crawford, Maya Deren, Walt Disney, Carl Dreyer, Germaine Dulac, Rainer Werner Fassbinder, Ray Harryhausen, Erich Wolfgang Korngold, Charles Laughton, Herschell Gordon Lewis, Peter Lorre, Guy Madden, Frances Marion, Georges Méliès,  Russ Meyer, Carmen Miranda, Alla Nazimova, Mabel Normand, Leni Riefenstahl, George Romero, Mack Sennett, Andrei Tarkovsky, Gregg Toland, Dalton Trumbo, Douglas Trumbull, Edgar Ulmer, Peter Ustinov, Jean Vigo, John Waters, James Whale, Daryl Zanuck.

[1] I’ve scoured the ‘Net and other sources and have yet to find a satisfactory definition, at least one that describes genius in scientific, measurable terms. Even the most reputable sources resort to a subjective, airy vagueness. This from the Cambridge Dictionary (actually a pretty good summary, but eminently lacking in particulars): “ … very great and rare natural ability or skill, especially in a particular area such as science or art.” Similarly the venerable OED chimes in with: “ … inborn exalted intellectual power; instinctive and extraordinary imaginative, creative, or inventive capacity, frequently opposed to talent.” Actually the OED version gets subtly closer to what I look for in a work or individual to merit the label ‘genius.’
    Still, such definitions are at best a good start; the phrases used to define genius could well describe any number of bright, talented folks who aren’t geniuses. What’s lacking is that special something, that magic that separates genius from the merely talented or gifted. The same principle applies to other, non-artistic, areas like physics, chemistry, mathematics, philosophy, and medicine. Then there are the problem fields like public service, commerce, sports and history. Can a head of state, government bureaucrat, military commander, lawyer, business tycoon, chess player, football coach, political operative, or historian (or any nonfiction author ... film critic, anyone?) ever merit the mantle of genius? By the way, not a new observation, but is genius merely the flip side, the sunny side if you like, of madness?

[2] Indeed were a poll taken today to anoint the greatest cinema genius of all time, the consensus choice would probably be Chaplin, though to be sure his would be a plurality choice. At the same time august bodies routinely proclaim Hitchcock, Welles, or Ozu as the best director, though seldom Chaplin, all of which tends to illustrate just how elusive the concept can be.

[3] One might also assert that the difference between genius and the exceptionally talented craftsman is a sometimes fuzzy one, and to take it one step further, what separates the reliable professional from the dreaded moniker hack can be a precariously thin line. It’s only fair to add that history has taught us that the studios, certainly in the studio era, (almost) always preferred a reliable craftsman/hack at the helm to an erratic genius. Plus ça change …

Further reading:

Marjorie Garber, “Our Genius Problem,” Atlantic Monthly, v290n5 (Dec. 2002): 64-72.
Darrin T. McMahon, Divine Fury: A History of Genius, Basic Books, 2013.
Andrew Robinson, What Has Become of Genius?