Creation over Perfection: A Tribute to Roger Corman

Which of these films is better: Stanley Kubrick’s Napoleon or Jack and Jill?

The answer is of course Jack and Jill; because it exists.

I hate films that don’t exist, I even hate films before they exist.

Ideas for films without execution develop into your wildest dreams; flawless artistic masterpieces that would surely revolutionise the cinematic landscape. Whether it’s Jodorowsky’s Dune, Edgar Wright’s Ant Man, or the million pictures Guillermo Del Toro claims he nearly made, you probably have one that you think would have been amazing. In reality they’d all be flawed, you might love them, but they wouldn’t be immaculate. When a project lies solely in the realm of imagination, unbound by a tangible outcome, it holds limitless potential to become anything you envision.

Films that exist are never perfect. There’s no skill in having an idea for a perfect film. The highest skill lies in transforming your ideas into an imperfect result and having the guts to release it, fully aware it could be met with disapproval.

“Why are you watching that?”
“Is it like a joke? Like The Room?”
“Can we please watch a good film tonight!”

Roger Corman passed away in May 2024. He was the undisputed king of film creation, over a 70 year career he produced or directed over 450 pictures. I have a hard time explaining to anyone why I admire his films.

No I don’t like them ironically, no I don’t like all of them, a lot of them are outright shit. I watched 15 selections from his filmography for the first time since he passed and I enjoyed every single one. There is a consistent refusal to take his work and influence seriously. Never have I found a creator so inspiring, not only for what he made but also for the way he made it.

Denied a writing credit on Fox’s The Gunfighter, Corman rejected big studio productions almost immediately and started his career directing films for the comparatively small American International. His early works are as quick and cheap as they come, normally 60 minutes of boring conversations in rooms with 10 minutes of comical puppetry or cars exploding to keep the drive-in audience attentive.

Corman really found his form in his modest adaptations of Edgar Allen Poe stories including The Fall of House of Usher, Pit and the Pendulum and The Tomb of Ligeia. Supported by a mesmerising Vincent Price, these works are so masterfully crafted and atmospheric you forget that he made all seven films within the span of just four years. 

These were serious productions that in most career trajectories would lead to procuring a vast budget and making more mainstream projects. Corman however lacked the patience and was too anti-authoritarian to work in the studio system. It helped that low-cost films made in his run-and-gun style were incredibly profitable.

The Intruder was his one attempt at making a film worthy of consideration. A hard hitting social drama focusing on a right wing activist’s attempts to socially engineer a town into halting integration within the high school. Studios refused to pick it up, Roger was branded a communist and he and his brother Gene put their house on the line to ensure it would be seen. It’s restrained, provocative and as Corman says with a giant smile “It was a wonderful commercial failure!” From that point on, Corman's productions would never prioritise the message; the content would be commercially popular, with his politics woven into the subtext.

In the 60s and 70s Corman leant heavily into his young audience’s desire to see rebellion on screens. Most of the US probably wasn’t taking part in the counterculture movement but wanted to feel involved via consumption of media. Rock and Roll High School, Grand Theft Auto, Suburbia, The Wild Angels and countless others all propped themselves up on the defiant attitude of youth. A film that can evoke an illicit emotion in the viewer will be forgiven for lower quality, whether in its acting, sets or plot. A Corman film was far more likely to show shocking material; gorey violence, naked women, sexual assault, drug use than it was to have a coherent story.

Roger’s films were masterfully constructed though, bare boned, ruthless, economic and never without heart. His understanding of what needs to be shown to engage audiences knew no bounds yet never dwells longer than necessary. Most of his productions fall short of 90 minute runtimes and are all the better for it.

The earnest nature of his movies makes the extensive debauchery fun rather than sordid. When times in my life are tough Corman movies are a relaxing pleasure for me to watch. There’s no attempt to suspend my disbelief, hence they can never fail to. Yet all of my primal emotions are buzzed repeatedly, small dopamine rushes without the freneticism of today’s media. There’s such joy in watching something cheap, camp, gaudy and never shaking the feeling that it could have been made by your friends.  In fact this article is about three weeks delayed because I’ve just kept watching more of his films. I’m addicted to his product and there’s certainly no shortage

If a great film is three good scenes and no bad ones then the majority of Corman’s portfolio doesn’t come close to greatness. Clunky dialogue, immersion shattering effects, awkward connective tissue combine to make his movies sometimes about waiting for the good stuff and tolerating the bad. His economic tendencies would get the better of him frequently, there are several films in his catalogue that are rehashed from others. Cannibalising sets, re-using footage, editing dialogue, adding narration to change the story make some watches feel like you’ve contracted the flu and your brain is skipping around. No better example for this than The Terror, of which he proudly proclaimed “it is a somewhat confusing picture”. Please do not watch this one.

For Roger creativity was not in having the ideas for films, ideas were everywhere or could be reused, it was in getting the film made. It was solving the problems of a production, fixing the blocking, making a shot slightly more interesting, but above all; getting it completed. Any time or money he saved in shooting one film could be reinvested into the next. In 1957 alone he directed and produced nine films, the same number Tarantino has made in his 30 year career.

Most would cry that quality trumps quantity. When it comes to the creative process my thesis is that quantity almost always breeds quality. Roger never went to film school, he taught himself as he created. He didn’t fear that his first efforts would be criticised and lampooned because he knew they were always steps to making the next effort. And because of his prolificity we have some incredible if imperfect gems to appreciate.

My favourite atypical film of his has to be The Trip; a story of an advertisement director taking LSD for the first time. By today’s standards it’s quaint, the imagery of the drug fuelled fantasies is clichéd and uncool yet there’s such heart and genuineness to the film. Peter Fonda's portrayal, stumbling around LA dressed like a boyish Mr. Rogers can only be inspired by Corman's own experience taking LSD in preparation for the shoot.

It was a falling out with American International over their refusal to make Easy Rider and other creative control issues that led to Roger and Gene Corman setting up their own studio in 1970, New World Pictures.

Now in charge of his own productions, Corman seemed to accept the semi-patronising title adorned to him as “King of the B’s”. What followed for the 27 years New World Pictures operated was a full embrace of exploitation cinema and sleaze. Blaxploitation, Sexploitation, Carsploitation, Slashers, Monster Movies all made in the most economic sense by a huge cohort of young writers, directors and editors that in the following years would take Hollywood by storm. The University of Corman fully embraced his techniques, all of these films lack any pretense of high cinema, the movies are rough around the edges and all the better for it. Deliver to the audience an engaging product and the raw talent of the creator will shine without the need to polish every corner.

If you aren’t convinced by Corman’s own filmography, the careers he launched are undeniable. Directorial debuts for Francis Ford Coppola, Peter Bogdanovich, Martin Scorsese, Ron Howard, Joe Dante & Allan Arkush all handed out by Roger Corman. His attempts to learn about acting put him in a class with Jack Nicholson who he would give a first film role to. Peter Fonda, Bruce Dern and Robert De Niro probably all owe their careers to the leading roles in Corman pictures they must now consider beneath them. The legacy doesn’t stop just with the sexy jobs: James Cameron started life doing special effects on Battle Beyond the Stars, Jonathan Demme wrote and produced Angels Hard as They Come, Phil Tippett did the creature work for Piranha.

Bill Paxton, Dennis Quaid, Talia Shire, Sylvester Stallone, Pam Grier, Amy Holden Jones, David Carradine, Dick Miller, Paul Bartel, Melissa Leo, Diane Ladd, William Shatner. I could probably list fifty more and not scratch the surface. What was Corman’s secret? Was he a genius at spotting talent? Was he insanely lucky?

No he just kept making films and didn’t get stuck in the requirement that the audience should recognise who was on screen. His greatest managerial strength was trusting newcomers to do the job, he imparted responsibility on young eager casts and crew and reaped the rewards. He saw new talent, knew it could be used cheaply and allowed these stars to launch themselves off his platform while he remained in the background. I’d describe it as selfless but he got incredibly rich while perfecting this.

I feel obliged to make comment on his personality and character. Google “Roger Corman controversy” and all you’ll find is the idea his family was trying to steal his inheritance in recent years. Roger made the utmost sleaze, in the sleaziest industry, predominantly in a time where there were no controls on misogynistic behaviour and very few on outright sexual assault. Yet not one person from his history has a bad word to say about him, actresses were treated with dignity as they made the most degrading material. Watch any clip of him working and you will see the politest man going, a wonderful beaming grin and twinkle in his eye that makes you feel comfortable and curious in equal measure.

So where did he go? He didn’t go anywhere, the Hollywood studio machine just saw his and others’ successes then sought to plagiarise, prostitute and maximise it. Throughout the 1970s B-movie scripts started to get greenlit for huge budgets and tentpole summer blockbusters. Jaws and Star Wars are the most obvious culprits, but even The Godfather, The Exorcist, Apocalypse Now, Superman were genre films that raised the bar for what audiences expected.

By the time we reach the mid 80s there was a clear delineation between the glossy Hollywood products and the B’s despite their subjects never having been closer. The mainstream appetite skewed to this new wave of cinematic grandeur and his newer movies engendered only cult followings. The bar was raised and Roger refused to jump to anyone’s tune, he proudly never made a film for over a million dollars. 

To be clear, I don't dislike films that look polished and showcase their budget. There's a great deal of gratification in watching such productions. My primary concern is that they make small-scale filmmaking appear unattainable. No one watches Jurassic Park or Terminator 2 and thinks “I could make that!”. You need a crew of thousands, a budget more suited to building a hospital. When making something that unwieldy, no one person is in control, human touches are lost, creativity becomes committee-dulled. 

High cost films can invoke awe, let us experience the impossible, allow us to feel every emotion in that IMAX promo. Yet I believe they lead to a dead-end in society’s will to create and release new ideas. I imagine the student filmmaker, after their first inevitably shonky attempt at a movie with their friends, watching Chrisopher Nolan’s latest three hour exploit and wondering how they will ever bridge that gap. The same student watching Evil Dead or Piranha could easily picture themselves as the next Sam Raimi or Joe Dante. How many aspiring creators will have given up before starting because they judge themselves to an impossible standard?

But Corman did not give up, not even as his already meagre popularity dwindled. I urge everyone to watch the behind the scenes footage of DinoShark; the film itself is a ScyFy special barely worth commenting on. Watch an 84 year old explain patiently to a bikini-clad actress a quarter of his age the blocking and timing of the next shot. Watch him joyfully give pointers to the crew spreading fake blood over an actress with her legs buried in the sand. And also marvel as he politely gets frustrated that the makeup re-application is taking too long between takes. The man cared about every picture he ever made and never lost his passion for creation.

Corman and his work teach me that making something is invariably preferable to inaction. Make it swiftly, cheaply, sloppily but with love and the final product is certain to resonate with someone.

So where are our excuses? In my pocket lies a more sophisticated camera than Kubrick ever had. The only limit is in our mind; our fear of failure and disapproval. Are you going to tell me you can’t make something that looks better than this?

If we keep our creative ideas locked in our heads they can remain perfect forever, and it will be a travesty. Whatever your passion, I urge you to bring it to fruition: shoot a claymation short with your friends, write that TV screenplay you thought of, start a podcast with single digit listeners. If your creation brings joy to even one person, it is worthwhile.

And maybe give one of Roger Corman’s films a try; the pristine, highly produced media will still be there when you get back.

I leave you with the lines he delivered in 2009 while receiving his honorary academy award.

Rest in Peace Roger Corman. You will be missed.