The 10 Most Visually Stunning Directors

Don’t feel bad if this has happened to you: You’re watching the latest episode of FX’s American Horror Story when the requisite commercials pop up, one of which is a spot for Immortals, the latest hyper-stylized, sword-and-sandal epic from the producers of 300. Having heard nothing about the film prior to the commercial, you think, “Whoa, that video game looks pretty badass.” And then the closing mention of the movie’s 11/11/11 theatrical release date wakes you up to the fact that it’s actually a feature film, albeit one that evokes thoughts of the coolest Xbox game you’ll never get to play.

A total sensory experience, Immortals is an otherwise generic gladiator adventure made uniquely appealing through its lavish sets, awesome graphics, and exaggerated color designs, all directly attributed to the film’s director, Tarsem Singh. The former music video specialist’s first big Hollywood blow-out, Immortals attacks the familiar terrain of properties such as Spartacus: Blood And Sand with the same eyeball-raping visuals of Tarsem’s gorgeously distinctive films The Cell and The Fall.

Immortals could be a showcase of inept acting and laughable dialogue and it’d still be worth its ticket price, thanks to Tarsem’s credit alone. The 50-year-old Indian filmmaker isn’t alone in that lane of auteurs whose names are enough to deem movies deserving of a look. Before you indulge in the excess of Immortals, do your pupils a favor and get acquainted with The 10 Most Visually Stunning Directors.

Written by Matt Barone (@MBarone)

Most visually stunning films: Pan’s Labyrinth (2006), Hellboy (2004), Hellboy II: The Golden Army (2008)

The most important characteristic for any “visually stunning” director is, first and foremost, a vivid imagination and the natural ability to tell stories that others would never conceive. Which is why, in Hollywood’s sea of copycats, filmmakers of this ilk are so few and far between. One director who’s refreshingly atypical, though, is Guillermo del Toro, the fanboy favorite responsible for the fairy tale horror of The Devil’s Backbone and Pan’s Labyrinth, as well as the decadent Hellboy movies.

The scene above, from Pan’s Labyrinth, exemplifies del Toro’s singular vision: set designs that call to mind J.R.R. Tolkien by way of Fangoria and ingenious monsters that establish permanent residence in viewers’ minds.

Most visually stunning films: The Crow (1994), Dark City (1998)

Any filmmaker who can turn an otherwise ridiculously shitty Nicolas Cage movie into a sensory delight is worthy of praise. With 2009’s highly problematic Knowing, director Alex Proyas ignored a script full of pretentious sci-fi hooey and padded Cage’s typically overdone performance with a few awe-inspiring sequences, the best of which is a single-take airplane crash that’s a real showstopper.

Making a film based in everyday life for a change, Proyas approached Knowing with an anti-blockbuster mentality, a gamble that failed, sure, but also proved that he’s the type of director best left to otherworldly fare. Just take a look at this underrated 1998 dystopian freak-out Dark City, or its equally grim predecessor, The Crow, to see just how stunning Proyas’ visual chops can be when he’s generating thinking man’s flicks for the Hot Topic circuit.

Most visually stunning films: Eraserhead (1977), Dune (1984), Blue Velvet (1986), Lost Highway (1997), Inland Empire (2006)

The majority of directors on this countdown have expensive special effects and green-screens to thank for their visually stunning movies; David Lynch, however, sticks with his own peculiar ingenuity. On humble budgets, Lynch’s head-scrambling films are independently made sensations, confounding viewers with their rabbit-hole plots and creepy naturalism. And through such touches as digital video graininess (Inland Empire), image distortions that give the appearance of smudged paint, and ghoulish inserts into seemingly normal everyday life (severed ears on the ground, human-sized rabbits in suits, alien-like babies that disintegrate), Lynch’s strange brand of cinema stuns as a form as visual befuddlement.

Most visually stunning films: Deep Red (1975), Suspiria (1977), Inferno (1980)

To best enjoy the work of Italian horror master Dario Argento, one must adhere to what’s commonly referred to as “nightmare logic.” Which, for those who’ve yet to succumb to Suspiria’s hallucinogenic force, is the voluntary dismissal of such things as coherent plotting and the making of sense in favor of random atrocities presented in the director’s obscenely bright colors and operatic energy.

In Argento’s craziest films, namely the aforementioned Suspiria (one of the last movies ever processed in lush Technicolor) and it’s quasi-sequel Inferno, scenes of frantic brutality are heightened by exaggerated palettes, such as the stark blue background and red flashes that back Suspiria’s classic opening murder. When the blood flows in an Argento movie, it doesn’t just ooze out in putrid rivers—it glistens like ocean water beneath a shining sun.

Most visually stunning films: The Cell (2000), The Fall (2006), Immortals (2011)

Most, if not all, filmmakers are quick to label themselves as “artists,” but in Tarsem Singh’s case, it’s a legitimate branding. A graduate of Pasadena’s Art Center College of Design, the Indian visionary is quick to cite the painters’ influences in all of his movies, and the inspirations shows in bright, eye-stroking manners.

For his debut, the phantasmagoric, Jennifer Lopez-starring thriller The Cell, Tarsem layered the flick with trippy imagery, namely the sight of a horse that gets split into pieces by falling glass; with his latest, and only third, feature, Immortals, he sent his mind back to the Renaissance, coloring the film to resemble the works of artist Michelangelo Caravaggio.

Watching a Tarsem movie, particularly Immortals, is similar to visiting the Guggenheim and staring at the artwork while tripping on shrooms. And, yes, the experience is as fun as that sounds, even if the film itself isn’t an award-winner.

Most visually stunning films: Irreversible (2002), Enter The Void (2009)

With only three full-length movies to his name, French extremist Gaspar Noé has undeniably established himself as one of modern-day cinema’s most visually driven directors—so much so that, in the case of Enter The Void, such frivolous things as story and developed characters are perfunctory distractions. A sadistic yet brilliant talent, Noé finds dementedly inventive ways to both hypnotize and disturb audiences; take 2002’s hard-to-withstand Irreversible, with its examination of a vicious rape that’s told backwards and kicked off by a dizzying, drugged-out, and cyclonic birds-eye-view tour of a darkly red lit gay club.

Enter The Void, a pupil-bashing experience that any self-respecting fan of movies needs to see at least once, takes that Irreversible sequence’s visual bewilderment and stretches it out into a 150-minute extravaganza of superficial nihilism. The camera quickly floats around mid-air, into inanimate objects (including an aborted fetus), and weaves throughout a freakishly erotic sex hotel. It’s the rare movie that totally justifies the clichéd recommendation “it’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.” That seems to be the only way Noé knows how to operate.

Most visually stunning films: Black Sabbath (1963), Blood And Black Lace (1963), Kill, Baby, Kill (1966)

Before Dario Argento made the deaths in Italian horror look beautiful, Mario Bava, the country’s original scary movie titan, captured the attention of wannabe filmmakers and hoity-toity critics alike. Once he stepped away from black-and-white films, Bava set the precedent for lavishly designed murder; in the high-fashion slasher movie Blood And Black Lace, for example, the images of women’s being drowned in bathtubs and having their faces pushed onto burning lamps beam with the starkness and glow of freshly painted canvas illustrations.

Oddly enough, damn near every filmmaker who’s been influenced by Bava (Argento excluded) have completely misunderstood the appeal of his artistic slashers; whereas the hacks behind every slice-’em-up horror flick revel in a kill’s gore quotient in order to pummel weaker-stomached viewers into hurling, Bava was more concerned with hypnotizing eyes into reveling in the carnage, not revolt away from it.

Most visually stunning films: The Matrix (1999), The Matrix Reloaded (2003), The Matrix Revolutions (2003), Speed Racer (2008)

We have a confession to make: We kind of love 2008’s universally maligned Speed Racer. In terms of sheer ambition, you have to give it up for Andy and Larry (or is it Lana?) Wachowski, who took a monumental risk and fashioned a family movie to overload one’s eyes with a kaleidoscopic sugar rush of a film. Did it work? Financially, not at all, and, in reality, not even as a cult phenomenon. But there’s no denying that Speed Racer, for all its scorn, is a visual feast.

And that’s all the reclusive Wachowski siblings seem to care about. Their filmography isn’t extensive, but the brothers have cemented their collective legacy as two of Hollywood’s most daring visionaries, an earned reputation both ushered in and solidified with their Matrix trilogy. How many times has their bullet-time technique been mimicked? How many post-Matrix flicks have aped their slow-motion and extravagant action sequences? Too many times, frankly.

Most visually stunning films: Edward Scissorhands (1990), Sleepy Hollow (1999), Charlie And The Chocolate Factory (2005), Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007), Alice In Wonderland (2010)

By this point, it’s widespread fact: Tim Burton’s 3D take on Alice In Wonderland was a really bad movie; one that made insane amounts of money, yes, but still a disaster quality-wise. But the blockbuster’s issues were all script-related; per usual, Burton’s visuals were at times breathtaking and consistently bewildering. In other words, it was typical Tim Burton.

It’s a shame that the eccentric writer-director’s recent output hasn’t been up to his once-superlative standards, because, in his prime, Burton churned out some truly dazzling pieces of lighthearted macabre. Coated in dark color schemes and plush with his quirky imagination, Burton’s best movies play like the nightmares of a Goth kid in training—Marilyn Manson when he was still obsessing over David Bowie in middle school.

Most visually stunning films: Time Bandits (1981), Brazil (1985), 12 Monkeys (1995), Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas (1998)

Even if Terry Gilliam happened to sell out and direct a traditional Hollywood romantic comedy, his product (most likely starring Gerard Butler) would look nothing like 27 Dresses, and that’s because the former Monty Python’s Flying Circus member sees the world through a uniquely animated lens. Spending his earlier days as a cartoonist, Python’s lone American participant sketched the bizarre moving pictures and irreverent animation seen in the British sketch show’s crazier bits, perfecting an offbeat sensibility that has since defined his many films.

Whether he’s messing with dystopian sci-fi (Brazil) or druggy hyper-realism (Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas), Gilliam channels his strange imagination into unhinged (big screen) imagery. If post-LSD dreams could manifest themselves into motion pictures, they’d surely have Gilliam’s name in the credits.