Brian De Palma’s Blunt Verdict on His Fellow Directors
Brian De Palma, famed for his bold cinematic style, once delivered a scathing assessment of his peers, questioning their depth and sophistication despite his own celebrated influences.
Genius pinches, talent nicks—however you phrase it, the world of film-making thrives on borrowing and reinvention. Each new wave of directors stands on the shoulders of those who came before, and Brian De Palma is no exception. While he’s often linked to Alfred Hitchcock, De Palma’s own work has left a mark that’s hard to ignore. His films, especially during the New Hollywood era, were anything but restrained: provocative, unflinching, and often courting controversy, they revelled in the creative freedoms of the 1970s. His reimagining of Scarface, originally a Howard Hawks gangster flick, is a case in point—unapologetically brash and unforgettable.
It wasn’t unusual for De Palma and his contemporaries—think Francis Ford Coppola, Martin Scorsese, Sidney Lumet—to riff off each other’s ideas. Take De Palma’s Blow Out, a 1981 thriller with John Travolta, which owes a clear debt to Coppola’s The Conversation from 1974. Coppola, in turn, had been inspired by Michelangelo Antonioni’s Blow Up, a 1966 film about a fashion photographer who stumbles upon a murder. Blow Out stands out as a film best experienced with headphones, echoing Travolta’s character as he records the sounds surrounding a political assassination. De Palma’s flair for inventive audio and striking visuals produced a stylish blend of slasher and conspiracy, with early appearances from John Lithgow and Nancy Allen.
De Palma’s Unfiltered Opinion
Throughout his career, De Palma made no secret of his influences—Hitchcock, certainly, but also Orson Welles, Jean-Luc Godard, and Antonioni. Yet, he didn’t hold back when it came to critiquing his peers. A self-confessed obsessive, he immersed himself in theatre and film, and felt that many directors lacked a similar breadth of knowledge. In his own words:
“It’s a terrible thing to say, but the problem with most film directors is that the process of becoming a film director does not necessarily make you particularly sophisticated. I’m not saying I know more than anybody else, but you’re not dealing with a lot of heavyweights in this business. They are not well-read, everything is a property, and they really don’t have many outside interests. So, when they give their statement about philosophy, life, politics, or whatever, it’s kind of, I guess, shallow and dumb for the most part.”
Such candour, published in the early 1980s, was bound to ruffle a few feathers. By then, De Palma was already known for his penchant for violence and sexuality on screen, but he’d also demonstrated a knack for creating iconic moments—Carrie, his adaptation of Stephen King’s novel, remains a prime example, with its unforgettable imagery amid the chaos.
Legacy and Later Years
Over two decades, De Palma delivered a string of films that have endured: The Untouchables, featuring Robert De Niro, and genre standouts like Casualties of War and Carlito’s Way with Al Pacino. His output slowed after the turn of the millennium—just three films in twenty years—but word has it he’s currently at work on a new project, Sweet Vengeance.
Despite his sometimes divisive opinions, De Palma’s influence is undeniable. His willingness to speak plainly about the industry, coupled with a body of work that continues to spark debate, ensures his place in the annals of cinema—warts and all.