Different art forms require different proportions of craft and spark. Songwriting requires a great deal of creativity; while songs can be well-played and well-structured, ultimately a song tends to be carried by a tune or inspired lyrics, the kind of thing that seems to emerge from the ether. Narrative writing generally requires a fair amount of both craft and spark. Writing well-constructed sentences and believable characters can be learned, but an inventive plot or a fervent piece of prose comes from one's imagination. Directing a movie can often be almost all craft: a director is frequently akin to a construction foreman. If a foreman is working with a talented architect and contractors, he will be successful as long as he has an eye for what works and knows how everything works together. Likewise, a director working with a skilled cast, editor, cinematographer and screenwriter will probably be successful. Imagination can be immeasurably helpful, but it often isn't necessary.
The craft and the spark are key to understanding artists' evolution as they age. Craft can be maintained, even improved upon, with experience. The spark is a much more fickle element. This is why songwriters often seem to lose their touch. Why couldn't David Bowie write ten more albums as good "Ziggy Stardust"? How did Jimmy Paige pull off possibly the best songwriting run over ten years or so in pop history, then quickly lose his touch? How could U2, the same band that wrote so many inspired songs in the '80s, become a hollow shell of themselves in this century?
On the other end of the spectrum, directors like Scorcese and Spielberg can often be incredibly successful for decades. They're such masters of their craft that they don't need the creativity of their youth, when Scorcese wrote "Mean Streets" and Spielberg orchestrated the incredible ending of "Close Encounters of the Third Kind". Their choice of material may be a bit dodgier now: "Shutter Island" had a rather embarrassing plot, while Spielberg has had increasing difficulties with the third acts of his films. But while both have made bad movies, it's almost impossible to imagine them directing a poorly made film.
Things are a bit hairier for writer-directors who generate their own material. They may maintain their craft as directors but see their spark as writers start to fail them. Over the last fifteen years, Woody Allen's scripts have grown considerably weaker; in particular, his sense of comedy seems to have left him almost entirely. Yet his movies are always well-made; he works with talented people and knows filmmaking like the back of his hand. Or witness the Coen brothers: lately their results are a bit mixed when they work from their own material (witness "Burn After Reading" and "A Serious Man"). But when base their films off the work of others, the results--"No Country for Old Men" and "True Grit"--are spectacular, thanks to their complete command of the technical aspects of filmmaking.
Which brings us to Atom Egoyan. Egoyan wrote and directed "The Sweet Hereafter," arguably one of the best films of the '90s. It had a hypnotic, elliptical quality to it, pulling you in while leaving you unsure about just what was going on. Indeed, the actors were only given their parts of the script, so they were often just as confused the viewer, adding to the movie's cryptic feel. Only in the final frames of the film does the audience learn what really took place.
It's almost shocking that the auteur behind a movie as good as "Hereafter" could produce "Chloe," Egoyan's latest effort. A huge part of the problem is the source material: for the first time, he's directing a feature film he didn't write. Not only is it a lurid, predictable thriller; it explores some Egoyan's previous themes in an embarrassingly juvenile fashion. When two characters chat over Skype, one laments that he cannot see the other in person--see how alienating the Internet is! A high schooler could do a better job exploring the impact of technology on personal relationships.
But all of this could be attributed to the terrible script, which Egoyan didn't write. Perhaps he's lost the spark, run out of ideas. (Or perhaps he just needed money or wanted to make a film and couldn't come up with an idea.) What really makes "Chloe" shocking is the terrible production quality. It doesn't just feel like a late night movie on Showtime; it looks like one too. The cinematography is practically indifferent: paint by numbers master shots, over-the-shoulder shots, and so on. The score is utterly rote, hitting every note you expect at the most predictable moments. The production design is downright drab, with much of the action taking place in tacky-looking restaurants, a far cry from the vivid small-town sets of "Hereafter". And none of this can be explained by money: "Chloe" cost more than twice as much as "Hereafter" to make.
Egoyan doesn't just lose his spark here, he loses his craft. It's mystifying, and depressing given how few quality films are released in the U.S. already. But Egoyan is only 50. Here's hoping he still has something left in the tank.
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