Here's a pretty strong argument that Stanley Kubrick was actually a designer, not a director...

A tyrannical architect of image and space.

A militant perfectionist, allergic to chance.

The man didn’t just shoot movies — he designed them, meticulously, like some sort of clairvoyant alien intelligence trying to reconstruct human reality from an incomplete dossier.

Consider 2001: A Space Odyssey: the symmetry, the stark geometry, the sterile whiteness of the Discovery One corridors. Every frame was an act of blunt force precision, every movement locked into a mechanized ballet, all — of course — shot in camera. Kubrick refused to improvise. He left absolutely nothing to the whims of some wayward, "vibes-based" actor. For Kubrick, directing wasn't just direction — it was a form of molecular level control.

Or The Shining, a horror film where the real monster wasn't actually a person, but a place, the Overlook Hotel. Atop this craggy-fortress Kubrick created an Escherian labyrinth of impossible hallways, sickly-green bathrooms, and blood-soaked carpet patterns that felt like they were encoding some ancient symmetrical proof. The film’s horror isn’t just psychological — it’s architectural. Kubrick designed the fear.

Then there’s Barry Lyndon, which isn’t so much a movie as it is an 18th-century oil painting brought violently to life. Live action Caravaggio? The costumes were sewn with such historical accuracy that the actors could barely move in them. The lighting was provided exclusively by candles because Kubrick didn’t want just historical accuracy, he wanted historical physics! Other directors “capture” light. Kubrick refracted it to his will.

And Eyes Wide Shut, his swan song — and perhaps most underrated film — was soaked in operatic decadence. The colors! The shadows! The way he designed New York City entirely on soundstages because he had a fear of flying and wasn't well enough to make it back from his countryside mansion just outside of London. And yet he somehow made New York feel more like New York than most directors who actually shoot there. Again, Kubrick didn’t document reality, he imposed it.

If he were coming of age in today’s world, would he merely be a director? Doubtful. The market’s too bloated, the audience too distracted, the industry too infested with jittery execs who’d demand he cut a TikTok trailer and cast a Marvel reject in the lead.

And — go forbid — anyone called him a creative director, he’d roll his eyes, blast a cig, and wordlessly walk away.

Exactly! A designer at heart!