When the time comes to remember him, Martin Scorsese’s legacy will be that of a pioneer. In his lifetime, Scorsese managed to harness the untapped power of an art form that had long since fallen into a bloated state of rote disrepair. Scorsese grabbed that art form with both hands, and became a superstar by refining and revitalising it.
That art form is, of course, TikTok.
Maybe it’s because, as an 80-year-old man, Martin Scorsese still has the same boundless curiosity in the power of storytelling as he did in his youth. Maybe it’s because the actors’ strike has meant that the totality of promoting Killers of the Flower Moon has fallen on his shoulders. Maybe it’s just because his daughter is quite thirsty. Either way, it cannot be denied that Martin Scorsese is absolutely killing it on TikTok at the moment.
Along with his daughter Francesca, Scorsese seems to have spent the last few weeks being extremely online. There’s a video of him auditioning a dog, a video of him guessing gen Z slang, a video of him walking around his living room dressed as a tortoise to the tune of Candy by Robbie Williams. And, obviously, it’s all completely wonderful.
Francesca’s TikToks work extremely well. Scorsese, an iconoclast who became an icon, uses the medium to prick the sometimes pompous narrative that has formed around him. The videos humanise him better than a million print profiles could ever do.
And, to a lesser extent – possibly to keep the film people happy – Scorsese also recently joined Letterboxd. While he hasn’t taken the step of actually reviewing any films, he is keeping a public record of everything he has watched and enjoyed. These include 1918’s The Lady of the Dugout, Jules Dassin’s Rififi and Zinnemann’s The Day of the Jackal. No MCU films yet, but hope springs eternal.
Brilliantly, however, Scorsese is far from the only member of the Hollywood Old Guard to embrace social media of late. Francis Ford Coppola joined Instagram back in May and exhibits an enthusiasm for Stories that equals, and possibly exceeds, his love for making films and wine. In June he did an Ask Me Anything session that unearthed brand new nuggets of information about the man. His favourite film of his is Rumblefish! He has never played a Nintendo game! He thinks about the Roman Empire “quite a lot”! He has a half a cup of low-fat yogurt and three-quarters of a banana for his breakfast! At time of writing, he is currently using Instagram Stories to ask his followers questions like “Do you agree with Italian thinker Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, that human beings are geniuses and a ‘miracle for all to admire’?” (Spoiler: 60% of his followers do).
And then, of course, there is Paul Schrader, a man who is all but singlehandedly keeping Facebook afloat. Schrader is a daily poster, sometimes offering his opinion about things (most recently he likes Priscilla, was disappointed by Nashville and found Zone of Interest to be “a parlour trick”), or sometimes just reposting the sort of memes that your parents like. His posts are wise and cranky and nostalgic and, like Coppola and Scorsese’s use of social media, the perfect extension of him as a person.
Obviously this approach isn’t for everyone. George Lucas has only ever posted two things on Instagram. Spielberg is a complete refusenik. David Lynch used to post to YouTube twice a day – a weather report and a sort of lottery game – but he gave that up without warning last December. Perhaps these directors, and the majority of their peers, want to maintain the mystique that they enjoyed at the start of their careers before social media made thirsty fools of us all. Perhaps they’re able to say everything they want through their work. Perhaps they’re simply not interested.
Personally, I think this is a mistake. Scorsese, Coppola and Schrader are leading the vanguard here and they’re showing everyone else what they’re missing. We’re in an age when, thanks to a combination of cultural saturation and corporate mismanagement, social media seems to be losing its sparkle. So how wonderful that a clutch of well-respected men in their 70s and 80s are using the form’s dying breath to remind us all why we liked it in the first place. Social media allows them to be silly and forthright and unguarded, and quite frankly more directors should follow their lead. I think I speak for us all when I say: Ridley Scott first.
