Fincher vs. Kubrick

Plus: Fast and Furious titles, Cliff Booth, Weapons Teaser 2, and Harrison Ford in Up?

Author

Brock Swinson
June 25, 2025

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FEATURE

🎭 How David Fincher and Stanley Kubrick Use Multiple Takes for Opposite Reasons

In the mythology of demanding directors, two names tower above the rest: Stanley Kubrick and David Fincher. Both are notorious for their endless takes, their relentless pursuit of perfection, and their ability to push actors to their breaking point. But according to Brad Pitt, who worked extensively with Fincher on Se7en and Fight Club, these directors couldn't be more different in their approach—or their intent.

"That's the Kubrick way," Pitt explained in a recent interview, describing Fincher's occasional marathon sessions. But then he made a crucial distinction: Fincher doesn't use multiple takes to "beat the acting out of the actor" the way Kubrick famously did. Instead, Fincher's retakes serve an entirely different master: precision.

The Architect vs. The Excavator

Fincher approaches filmmaking like an architect with blueprints. He knows exactly what he wants, down to the smallest detail, and he'll shoot until reality matches the vision in his head. "He's brilliant and he knows what he wants," Pitt observed. "Usually there's a technical aspect of it"—whether it's nailing a complex steadicam move, hitting precise timing, or capturing a specific emotional beat.

This isn't about wearing down the actor; it's about building up to perfection.

Kubrick, by contrast, operated more like an archaeological excavator. He believed that beneath an actor's prepared performance lay something more authentic, more raw—but it could only be unearthed through exhaustion. His legendary 127 takes of Shelley Duvall's breakdown scene in The Shining weren't about getting the technical details right. They were about psychological excavation, digging until the performance collapsed into something real.

Note: a version of the scene below took 40 takes, according to Pitt:

When Process Becomes Purpose

The difference becomes clear when you examine what each director was actually seeking. Fincher's multiple takes are a means to an end—he stops when he gets what he envisioned. Pitt recalls doing "like 40 takes" for a single steadicam shot in Fight Club, but the reason was purely technical: the complexity of the camera movement, the timing, the choreography of actors and equipment.

Kubrick's takes, however, often seemed designed to exhaust the very concept of "performance" itself. He famously made Tom Cruise walk through a door 95 times in Eyes Wide Shut—not because the 95th take was technically superior, but because he wanted to strip away Cruise's movie-star polish and find something more vulnerable underneath.

The Collaboration vs. Confrontation Dynamic

What's most revealing about Pitt's observation is how these different approaches affect the actor-director relationship. Despite Fincher's reputation for demanding endless retakes, Pitt describes their collaboration without resentment: "It never triggered your insecurities."

This points to something crucial: when an actor understands that retakes serve the story rather than psychological manipulation, the process remains collaborative. Fincher's demands feel technical, professional—challenging but not personal.

Kubrick's method, by contrast, was inherently confrontational. He used repetition as a tool of psychological pressure, deliberately creating an adversarial dynamic. The point wasn't just to get a great performance; it was to break down the actor's defenses entirely.

The Modern Evolution of Perfectionism

Pitt's insights reveal how the culture of filmmaking perfectionism has evolved. Today's demanding directors like Fincher, Denis Villeneuve, or Christopher Nolan might shoot numerous takes, but they're generally working with their actors toward a shared vision. The multiple takes serve the craft, not the psychology.

Kubrick represented an older, more autocratic tradition—one where the director's vision justified almost any means of extraction. His methods produced undeniable masterpieces, but at considerable human cost.

The next time you hear about a director shooting 40 or 50 takes, ask yourself: are they building toward something specific, or are they tearing something down? Are they an architect perfecting blueprints, or an excavator digging for buried treasure?

The difference, as Brad Pitt learned, isn't just about the number of takes—it's about the intention behind them. And that intention shapes not just the final performance, but the entire experience of making the film. In cinema, as in life, how you get there matters as much as where you end up.

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