Here’s a bold statement: even the most celebrated filmmakers face criticism, and sometimes it’s the movies that divide audiences the most that leave the deepest mark. But here’s where it gets controversial—what if those divisive reactions are exactly what makes a film, and its creator, truly impactful? Director Ari Aster recently shared how he found solace in the upcoming documentary Mr. Scorsese, a five-hour deep dive into the life and career of Martin Scorsese. According to Alex Maidy’s review on JoBlo (https://www.joblo.com/mr-scorsese-tv-review-an-extensive-deep-dive-into-the-career-and-impact-of-the-filmmaker-on-cinematic-history/), the documentary strikes a balance between reverence and honesty, shedding light on Scorsese’s triumphs and missteps alike. What makes it compelling is the raw insight from Scorsese himself and his contemporaries, offering a rare glimpse into the evolution of a cinematic genius. And this is the part most people miss—Scorsese’s willingness to embrace his flaws and unapologetically stand by his creative choices is what makes his journey so relatable, even for someone like Aster, whose own films have sparked polarizing reactions.
In a roundtable discussion reported by Deadline (https://deadline.com/2025/10/ari-aster-on-watching-mr-scorsese-at-new-york-film-festival-1236570763/), Aster revealed how Mr. Scorsese helped him navigate the backlash to his recent films, Beau is Afraid (https://www.joblo.com/ari-aster-beau-is-afraid-reaction/) and Eddington. He pointed out the irony of films like The King of Comedy and New York, New York being initially overlooked or misunderstood, despite their brilliance. Aster’s reflection is both personal and universal: his first two films, Hereditary and Midsommar, were better received than his latest works, and he admits, ‘I kind of didn’t like the reception of the first two, and now I really don’t like the reception of the second two.’ Here’s the kicker—Aster found comfort in realizing that even Scorsese’s most daring, audience-alienating films were driven by artistic integrity, not calculation. This reminded Aster of the importance of staying true to one’s vision, even when it’s not universally embraced.
Aster’s honesty about the emotional toll of releasing a film is striking. ‘It’s heartbreaking to release a film,’ he said. ‘Even when it goes well, it’s not yours anymore.’ This sense of loss and alienation is something many creators can relate to, but it’s the films that challenge audiences—like Scorsese’s Taxi Driver or Aster’s own work—that often leave the most lasting impact. Now, here’s a thought-provoking question—is it better to create art that’s universally loved or art that sparks debate, even if it means alienating some viewers? Aster’s journey, inspired by Scorsese’s fearless approach, suggests that the latter might be the more rewarding path, even if it’s the lonelier one. What do you think? Share your thoughts in the comments—let’s spark a conversation about the cost and value of artistic integrity.
