From 1996’s “Walking and Talking” to “Enough Said,” Catherine Keener has been a disarmingly direct presence in Nicole Holofcener’s cocktails of satire and neurosis. As Ms. Holofcener’s films joined an indie wave of portraits that held up an unsettling mirror, Ms. Keener provided the potent voice of a woman who would speak her mind, landing her lines with a withering yet nimble deadpan. Their work has been an uncommon match of a female filmmaker and her acting surrogate, a rare relationship in a field that is not known for gender equality.
It’s sometimes said that great filmmakers create worlds, and Mr. Anderson certainly fits the bill. His rogues’ gallery of regular actors ranks with those of the equally troupe-minded classic Hollywood writer-director Preston Sturges. Some of his favorites have come from close to home — the ineffable Wilson brothers, who are fellow Texans — lending a casualness that dovetails with the intimate oddity of his on-screen families. But Mr. Anderson was also instrumental in the transformation of a particular actor: Bill Murray, who shifted from being known as a talented mainstream comic actor into something rather more melancholy and, in new ways, funny.
For the Hong Kong-based director of “In the Mood for Love,” repeat collaborations with actors hold a special charge, reflecting the thematic emphasis on memory and longing in his work. In Mr. Wong’s latest film, “The Grandmaster,” Tony Leung returns as a gallant agent suffering romantic torment. This is his seventh outing with Mr. Wong, whose exacting visual craftsmanship is well suited to Mr. Leung’s expressive restraint and matinee idol looks, perhaps on most eloquent display in “In the Mood for Love” alongside the fellow Wong veteran Maggie Cheung.
Mr. Lee first took note of Denzel Washington in a Broadway production of “A Soldier’s Play,” and their association has spanned “Mo Better Blues” (the Oscar-winning actor’s first starring role), “Malcolm X,” “He Got Game” and “Inside Man.” If an unpredictable aspect of Mr. Lee’s work is what Stanley Crouch called “the hostile entertainer”— a prickly intelligence determined not to let the audience off the hook— then Mr. Washington has provided a rock-solid devotion to character never overshadowed by his star charisma.
Probably the most famed actor-director team in contemporary cinema has been that of Mr. Scorsese and Robert De Niro. Creating one landmark of American cinema after another, actor and filmmaker each became a legend in his own right. What’s perhaps most remarkable is how often the talents of the two dynamic craftsmen have converged on portraits of deviance (“Taxi Driver,” “King of Comedy”) and criminality (“Mean Streets,” “Goodfellas”). In Mr. Scorsese’s current period, Leonardo DiCaprio has emerged as his actor of choice, but their mutually convenient partnership hasn’t (and perhaps can’t) leave as deep a mark as the De Niro films have.