I really enjoyed reading this book. Mamet's description of directing film as a skill is presented in a very practical manner, and I'm certain that I'll apply what I've learned from it to guide my future directing endeavors. However, there are a few aspects with which I don't entirely agree.

Mamet essentially perceives directing a film as an emotionless process. He believes that we gain the best understanding and enjoyment of a story through the juxtaposition of uninflected images and uninflected acting, which is very low in emotion. While I have a preference for films that offer subtle suggestions of particular emotions, Mamet contends that anything more than the subtle portrayal of emotion or the simple repetition of behaviors to convey personality is excessive. He argues that explicit moments of emotion will only serve to distract the audience. In my view, a balance between both is essential for creating a good film.

Mamet also employs annoyingly pretentious language, using odd and rather alarming metaphors. For instance, he states, "As Leadbelly says about the blues, he says in the first verse use a knife to cut bread, and in the second verse use a knife to shave, and in the third verse use it to kill your unfaithful girlfriend." I understand the point Mamet is trying to make, but seriously, what on earth? For someone who emphasizes careful planning in presenting a point, choosing this violently misogynist metaphor as the best and most necessary way seems rather inappropriate. Not to mention that he consistently refers to every example character as "he" and provides examples of desires like "wants to sleep with the girl," as if main characters can only be straight men. I would recommend this book to anyone interested in directing film, but it should be read with a very critical eye! (As one should approach all sources, anyway.)

On Directing Film is a 107-page book that can make you feel both stupid and arrogant for studying film in the 21st Century.

While it does contain some valid points and presents interesting arguments, it seems to be more of David Mamet's love letter to himself and his particular filmmaking style. According to him, his way is the only way to make films.

In one section, Mamet's intense hatred for film producers becomes evident, and an ongoing theme is his distaste for the steadicam. (Go watch 1917 and then try to tell me that the steadicam is something filmmakers shouldn't use. I'll be waiting...)

As a former film student (technically, I've graduated, but the learning never stops!), I found this book to be confusing and extremely pretentious. Only about 5 pages are actually devoted to discussing the craft of film directing.

In conclusion, approach this book with caution.

While David Mamet may not be regarded as the greatest filmmaker or the most exemplary human being, and although the contents of this book might seem elementary and repetitive to those who have attended film school, to be completely honest, I'm truly glad I picked it up while wandering around in Eslite.

It couldn't have been more opportune for this book to come into my hands at this moment, as I'm striving to understand the distinction between being a writer and a director and how, after grasping that difference, to translate it into practical executive considerations.

Mamet provides unambiguous answers to filmmaking, which unfortunately makes him an easy target for criticism. He discusses films as if there are no alternative methods of creation. And those answers are glaringly flawed. His assertion that "simple and stupid" shots are the best, his reverence for plot and disdain for the prose/poetry of films, his minimization of actors' art during the filmmaking process (reducing them to mere tools, almost dehumanizingly), his portrayal of the audience as if they all share a single, unchanging psyche, as if maintaining their interest is the sole purpose of films, his overemphasis on montage as if shooting long shots with a Steadicam is the ultimate sin, and so on.

Undoubtedly, there are countless examples that refute his arguments. However, it is precisely his emphasis on storytelling as a craft rather than a means of making personal statements that makes this book extremely valuable to me at this stage of my life.

I'm on the verge of creating a short film, and throughout all my creative pursuits, I've been grappling with one question: How do I remove myself from the stories and let the characters speak for themselves? How do I stop narrating and actually tell a story? I was desperately seeking someone like Mamet to shout in my face: "YOU CALL THAT A STORY? AND YOU CALL YOURSELF A STORY-TELLER?" And Mamet did just that, albeit with an extremely narrow perspective on film as a medium. But at this moment, I actually need that narrowness. I need it because I live in an era where people are often too kind to undermine whatever work you produce as long as it is personal and true to you. But I don't merely want to make a film that I enjoy creating; I want to make a film that people enjoy watching. After all, the latter often contributes to the former. At this level, Mamet gives me a full, unwavering push. He's the "needle in the haystack." And I hope that one day I'll be able to produce something that disproves many of his views, just as many great movies have done. But for now, I'll just let him "spit in my face."

"Juxtaposition" and "Uninflected"

These are two words that you will encounter frequently, and I truly mean a great deal!

Mamet offers some remarkable words of wisdom and profound insights regarding filming. Nevertheless, for some reason, I was unable to completely understand his approach to the two film scenarios he crafted to illustrate his directing style. Keeping the scene and shot straightforward? Yes, I grasped that aspect. But when it came to angles, the location from which to take the shot, and other queries, Mamet, at times, explained things in a manner similar to Confucius.

Perhaps it was due to the complexity of the concepts or my own lack of familiarity with the subject matter. Nonetheless, I found myself repeatedly referring back to those two words, trying to make sense of Mamet's ideas.

Despite my initial confusion, I believe that with further study and exploration, I will be able to better understand and appreciate Mamet's unique perspective on filmmaking.

If a person's objective is truly - and there is no need to approach it in a humble manner, for humility will soon enough be acquired - to understand the nature of the medium, that objective will be effectively communicated to the audience.

This book is a remarkable study on assuming the role of the director and breathing life into an idea by communicating a series of images, which is presented through the shot list. It is a book about Directing, yet I would highly recommend it to any screenwriter as well.

Mamet endeavors to avoid discussing angles and visual style as he believes one should (at least in the initial planning stage), as these are not his fortes (as he admits). Instead, he emphasizes that shots should convey meaning through staging, action, and juxtaposition. Information should not merely be read or told but rather questioned, answered, and experienced.

His points are further emphasized through demonstrations in a workshop format between students and himself in two of the longest chapters near the beginning and end of the book, which I thoroughly enjoyed.

A prominent theme that runs throughout the book is that putting in the hard work will assist you in understanding the job. It focuses intensively on workshopping, even down to communicating the core information in the shot, which in turn eliminates the extraneous elements, making it theoretically easier to communicate what is happening in the said shot with the sets, props, actors, and so on.

The back cover of the book claims that this book examines every aspect of directing - "from script to cutting room floor." However, this is simply not true if you are just starting to learn about film and are new to the art form.

Nevertheless, if you are at a slightly more advanced stage in your journey, I would highly recommend this as an advanced masterclass. It is by no means too advanced for anyone to understand, but perhaps it may be too advanced to fully absorb. But what do I know? Read it anyway :)

Don't listen to everything he says.

Remember, this book is from years ago, and since then, cinema has evolved significantly for the better. Additionally, his opinions are his own. Don't blindly accept his definition of films unless you thoroughly understand what he means by them, the context in which he is saying them, and, lastly, if you truly agree with them. For the most part, I didn't.

However, do listen to some of the very basic things he teaches the students about screenplaywriting, such as writing in shots rather than simply narrating information.

I'm glad I read this book. It's my first on direction. There's a reason why people often suggest reading this book first. It teaches a very basic concept in a simple way - that a film is a story told through shots and images, so you should write it accordingly. I swear, when you see him illustrate this with that classroom and pig story (I'd love to see this movie), you'll understand it better. It will provide you with much-needed clarity, which beginners in storytelling often lack.

What Mamet did was break down the film into its smallest unit, a single shot or image. Then, he makes you believe and actually shows you that it is quite simple if you just remember that you are telling a story. This simplifies the whole process in your mind, making you feel less overwhelmed and giving you good clarity.

(He might come across as quite arrogant at times, which is a drawback. But still, listen to the good parts. They will be of great help to you.)

Mamet's approach to dissecting film making into a meticulous, craftsman-like process is extremely captivating.

It firmly takes a stance against the pretentiousness often associated with the artistic realm. He presents a lucid methodology that emphasizes the crucial fact that nothing holds significance other than what is presented on the screen and the way it engages and moves the audience from one shot to the next.

Despite being a concise book that focuses on the fundamentals, one should not be misled into believing that he proposes a simplistic approach to film making. Instead, he places the onus squarely on the aspiring director to envision each and every shot of the film in their mind's eye.

This is by no means an easy feat. If it were, every individual would be engaged in the art of film making.

His perspective challenges directors to be highly detailed and imaginative in their creative process, ultimately aiming to produce films that have a profound impact on the viewers.

For most people, learning about how to make a film and, more specifically, how to direct a film is an extremely challenging task.

Although this is a relatively brief book, it holds immense value for those who are new to film making. It simplifies the process of directing to its essential elements and does not overwhelm the reader with a plethora of visual techniques and their potential applications.

David Mamet's background in screenwriting serves to anchor the book to the very core of film making, which is to tell a story. Through his instructions, the reader learns to avoid the pitfalls that a novice film maker might encounter. The key is to keep the shot unadorned and not overburden it with excessive details, but rather maintain its simplicity and power.

This book is an absolute must-read for all aspiring film makers as it provides valuable insights and practical guidance that can help them navigate the complex world of film making and bring their creative visions to life.

A tremendously easy read.

Mamet treats a significant portion of the book as a script between himself and a student. The book is founded on some lectures he delivered, so it's uncertain whether he is re-creating actual conversations or not. In any case, it makes for an enjoyable reading experience. It offers a substantial amount of insight into his directing philosophy, while still feeling quite genuine and down-to-earth.

Mamet comes across, as many writers do when discussing their craft, as a no-nonsense individual. He endeavors to convey his thoughts in simple and clear terms and appears to have great difficulty with doing the opposite.

I appreciate what he has to say, and if you are interested in directing or simply curious about how a director might think, this is undoubtedly a good starting point. It can provide you with valuable perspectives and ideas that may inspire you in your own creative pursuits or help you better understand the art of directing.

I truly loved the fact that the vast majority of this compact book was presented in the form of a dialogue between David and his students.

Through this engaging format, I was able to gain profound insights into how good shots are meticulously designed by first principles.

It was like a window into the creative and technical minds behind the art of filmmaking.

Now, having had this taste of knowledge, I find myself greedy for some more examples.

Maybe I'll even read the book again to further drive the point home and solidify my understanding.

The dialogue not only made the learning process enjoyable but also made it easier to grasp the complex concepts.

I can't wait to explore more and see how these principles can be applied in different scenarios.

It's like a treasure trove of information waiting to be discovered and utilized.

I did not like this much at all. And it becomes obvious why if you look at a quote from the book.

"Not 'how might one pay homage?' but 'what would the idea of homage mean to me?' That's what makes art different from decoration."

To a certain extent, I agree with Mamet that the difference between my couch and the art on my wall lies in meaning. However, he only attributes the definition of art to what it means to him. This is a trend I often encountered in this book and it annoyed me greatly. Mamet presents his way of filmmaking as the only way to make a good film. If you don't follow his instructions precisely, you're wrong. I believe that such clear-cut good and bad, or right and wrong, do not exist in art.

An example of Mamet's view of others is how he repeatedly calls all American film bad, only to list two or three movies that are good, including one of his own. Or how he told me I can't like performance art. I'll decide that for myself, thank you very much. Another point that irked me was how he treats actors in his book, calling most of them bad and rambling like an old man about how everything used to be better in the past.

All this is not to say that he doesn't give good advice. It's clear that he speaks from experience and tries to shed light on some important pillars of filmmaking. Sadly, there isn't really a list of rules he introduces or a clear-cut explanation for all these rules. The space seems to be filled with useless rants.

To conclude, I think, to a certain extent, that Mamet gives good advice on the pillars of filmmaking that I, as a beginner filmmaker, will definitely try to incorporate into my process. However, most of the advice in this book should probably be taken with a grain of salt and not as absolute and rigid as it is portrayed. Most importantly, this is a book, and I had a hard time getting through it without being incredibly annoyed by how sour this man is. If you're a beginner filmmaker, I would consider picking this up because there are plenty of useful tips and tricks in there, but be prepared to draw your own conclusions.

It is an apology for handicraft.

The basic ideas are all sound, and Mamet's recommendation for telling the story in a sequence of moments that speak for themselves is quite correct. I also enjoyed the analyses he develops in discussion with students - very informative and useful.

However, his foaming anger against artistic film seems partially motivated by envy. In a crucial footnote, he bemoans that the Great actors winning prizes are not of the type he favours himself. Might be the same with directors.

When he compared Werner Herzog with Frank Capra (the latter being the good director in his view, and Herzog just a self-indulging narcissist), I didn't believe my eyes. Take no risks, says Mamet, if you want to make a good film. And he is right.

When you want to make a great film, however, you can't avoid these risks, and chances are that you'll fail - but you will have tried.

Filmmaking is a complex art form that requires a balance between technical skill and creative vision. Mamet's emphasis on the importance of handicraft is valid, as a well-crafted film is more likely to engage and resonate with audiences.

However, his dismissal of artistic film as being too risky or self-indulgent is shortsighted. Great films often push the boundaries and take risks that may not always pay off.

Herzog, for example, is known for his bold and unconventional filmmaking style, which has produced some of the most memorable and influential films of our time. While his films may not always be to everyone's taste, they are undoubtedly works of art that have made a significant contribution to the medium.

In conclusion, while Mamet's ideas about filmmaking have some merit, we should not be too quick to dismiss artistic film as being inferior or unworthy of our attention. Both good and great films have their place in the cinematic landscape, and it is up to us as viewers to appreciate and evaluate them on their own terms.