The film director as commanding general

On the set of his first movie, “Hedwig and the Angry Inch,” future “Rabbit Hole” director John Cameron Mitchell was decked out in drag — and running around the set barking orders at Teamsters. His father, then an Army major general, was visiting the set that day.

“He told me, ‘Oh, you’re doing what I do,’” recalls Mitchell.

On most sets, that’s the truth: A director’s vision may be one thing, but how he or she achieves it through managing cast, crew and a thousand other tiny details is another. Once cameras start rolling, a director is the master of his or her domain, and every decision is ultimately his or hers.

But mix art and management and a strange beast emerges — not every personality is suited to handling temperamental underlings and, in the end, there’s no one exact route to success. Being nice does not guarantee an Oscar, and a difficult, domineering director can easily generate a masterpiece.

Mitchell says he likes to “create a benevolent dictatorship. You want everyone to feel wanted — and I run around like an overactive host at a party.”

Generating a genial, family atmosphere is often a default move for lower-budgeted films and filmmakers; “Black Swan’s” Darren Aronofsky is used to such circumstances and has learned that eschewing trappings like a personal trailer can help unite a set.

“I’m from Brooklyn, and I’m not too highfalutin, so people are already comfortable with me,” he says. “My general approach is open communication — explaining what we’re doing, trying to get everyone on the same page. I’m not really a screamer.”

Legendarily, however, the screamers have it: Alfred Hitchcock was notoriously difficult, and today’s box-office topper, James Cameron, has turned off actors with his aggressive style. (The “True Lies” crew was rumored to have sported T-shirts with a phrase echoing his attitude: “My way or the highway.”)

But box-office success makes all of that just part of the Hollywood legend.

“If a great film arrives, it’s all justified,” says Ian Nathan, executive editor of Empire magazine and author of the forthcoming “The Alien Vault.” “Some actors suffer awfully at the hands of brilliant directors, but from the studio’s point of view, it’s by any means necessary.”

Fortunately, most sets operate somewhere along the family atmosphere-dictatorship continuum, though every director has his own style. “True Grit’s” Coen brothers both write and direct together and are famous for being detail-oriented, able to catch a missed beat or syllable and finish one another’s sentences.

“With a lot of directors, it’s very organic on the day of shooting,” says their longtime cinematographer, Roger Deakins. “We come to shoot every day well-briefed for the day’s work. And after the first take, maybe Joel will talk to one actor and Ethan will talk to another, and you’ll do another take — and they’ll swap. They’re so on the page that it’s a cohesive unit by the time you start shooting.”

Game-playing is a popular tactic of many directors, who manipulate their sets and actors to achieve a specific performance. William Friedkin, for example, was said to have fired a gun and lowered the temperature on the set of “The Exorcist” to rattle his actors; directors like Stanley Kubrick or, more recently, “The Social Network’s” David Fincher insist on dozens of takes, in part to grind the “acting” out of their stars.

“When we heard about David’s infamy in the number of takes he does, we were a little worried,” admits “Network” costar Andrew Garfield. “But it turned out to be useful: Actors never feel like they have enough time on a film set, so this was luxurious and rare and appreciated. [David] doesn’t waste any time, and for an actor that means you can get into a rhythm and not let the ball drop.”

But what Garfield, who plays Facebook co-founder Eduardo Saverin, and costar Jesse Eisenberg didn’t anticipate were the quiet confidences the director shared with them individually.

“This was a movie about different points of view, and the characters had arguments about who was in the right, so he’d pit us against each other. He’d quietly give notes to Jesse and tell Jesse that Eduardo has no imagination, so he shouldn’t feel guilty about ousting him from the company,” Garfield says. “But at the same time, he’d come to my side of the table and say quietly to me, ‘This guy really did you wrong.’ He was helpful in getting us to believe in our own subjective intent and drive. That was very useful and subtle of him to do that.”

Danny Boyle is said to run an energetic, focused set, but he too is not above trying to tweak his performers. For “127 Hours,” he tried to elicit a specific performance from star James Franco by alternating cinematographers — one of whom he was expected to get along with, thus helping the calmer, happier scenes, and one he was expected to clash with, for when Franco needed to be tense and aggravated. But the plan failed, according to producer Christian Colson, “because James got on brilliantly with both of them.”

The responsibility of wielding so much power on a set, however, can take even the most seasoned directors by surprise. “The Way Back’s” Peter Weir recalls on a set some years ago that he admonished a crew member in front of everyone. He apologized publicly later, but the ripple effect was internal: “It was devastating. I humiliated that man, and it was so easy to do — and it was accepted because of this hierarchy. I thought, ‘I have the power to do that, and how awful.’”

Yet a film set remains a somewhat perverse workplace.

“I’m not into manipulation games,” Aronofsky says, despite the fact that his “Black Swan” star has said he used a few tricks to create the needed on-screen antagonism between her character and her costar. “Darren would tell us things about each other to try to make us jealous,” says Natalie Portman. “I think he was trying to create a rivalry in real life between us.”

Aronofsky has denied fueling a rivalry but notes that sometimes actors just want a little more rough-and-tumble from their leaders than the directors are interested in giving. “On ‘ The Wrestler,’ Mickey Rourke may have hoped I was going to be a father figure — but I kept saying, ‘I’m your friend. We’re trying to do this together.’ It was more about ‘help me out here’ than tough love.”

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Times staff writer Amy Kaufman contributed to this report.