Film Making and Finger Paintings

Recently, my wife and I saw "Thank You For Smoking", a disappointing comedy about a the Public Relations guy for tobacco companies. Directed by Jason Reitman, it had a great cast, but fell short as a cohesive film.

Last weekend, we saw Sofia Coppola's "Marie Antoinette"
an even more disappointing period piece starring Kirsten Dunst in the title role. It had a decent cast, beautiful art direction, but fell short as a cohesive film.

Both of these films were directed by the children of hugely successful Hollywood writer/producer/directors. Men who must have also found the films disappointing, but couldn't say so because it's a parent's job to encourage the creative ventures of his children.

I can relate. As a father of young children, I've often had to look at an indecipherable brown and black finger painting blob caked thickly onto a large thin sheet of newsprint and exclaim, "Oh sweetheart! This is beautiful!". So I can imagine Ivan Reitman feigning delight as the lights came up in his private screening, "Great job, Jay Jay! Love the talk show scene." while he must have been thinking, "I was about your age when I produced 'Animal House', punk". And Francis Ford in the screening room of the Coppola compound, wiping bread crumbs from his beard and exclaiming, "Sofia, what a beautiful film", but thinking "By the time I was 35, I had finished both 'Godfather' movies, little miss."

Of course, I'm sure both fathers are very supportive (Francis is an Executive Producer on "Marie Antoinette"). Even a black brown blob finger painting carries some level of achievement for a parent to find pride in, "Wow, you covered the whole page sweetie!" But in their deepest and most selfish of places, they must also find some comfort in the fact that their kids have not yet eclipsed their own achievements. No need to worry thus far, fellas.