Diractors is an ongoing series in which Hassle writer Jack Draper examines films, new and old, whose directors are better known for their work in front of the camera.

Here we have a tried and true movie star making their mark on directing as a way to elevate their career. How can you, as an incredibly famous person, find your voice as a filmmaker? A bit of a passing of the torch, being a movie star can be a safe bet to being an actor’s director. Looking closer, there are even similarities in what an actor sees in a script’s worth when they’re filling both roles. With Jodie Foster, its all in trying to make something self-integrating in an attempt to make some interesting drama. There’s truth in how much sympathy Foster has for the script, to be told so much as a kid that you’re unique; it starts to become obsolete instead of special. Anyone can come from child acting (like Foster) or feel like an outsider (in Fred’s case), yet to see this as a movie without great achievement is what stands out for me. 

The unique case of Fred Tate, a 6-year-old kid who has the intellect of a college student, is told fairly straightforward. He and his mom Dede (played by Foster) are extremely close but not controlling; they live modestly on Dede’s working class job in an apartment that works for them. They come off as more like friends than talking to each other like parent and child, but since they don’t have to, they’re able to be vulnerable to each other. Yet they help each other with maturing from the time Fred is born and Dede becomes a mom. Ya know, the classic Gilmore Girls dynamic. It isn’t until Jane (Dianne Wiest) is able to clearly see past his innocence and humanity and strictly distills this intellect to entice him and Dede to join her school for gifted young people. There he meets Damon (PJ Ochlan), who is just as much a social outcast as Fred is, as if this sadness and disdain is what Fred looks forward to from this intellect which Damon also carries with him. He is the first one to connect to Fred outside of Dede, imparting wisdom like “It’s not the size of a man’s IQ that matters; it’s how he uses it,” and “I’d just be another asshole with a cape.” 

It’s surprising how well this thing works, considering the thin tightrope it walks. I think that’s due to Scott Frank’s warm script that doesn’t reach too far out of its grasp. The idea came to Frank after the Iran Hostage Crisis (??), imagining how a little boy could have a better grasp on geo politics than our world leaders. It’s nice how grounded Little Man Tate is from its outlandish origin, likely thanks to Foster’s personal connection to Fred Tate. Jane also barely gets by from being dictatorial. Someone who is unable to see the innocence that is inevitable is going to be lost in lieu of his intellect, which she then feels the need to fast track since he can play the piano. Wiest is just right, especially in the ’90s, someone who is able to really sell you on the sadness of that last scene. 

Many note the parallels between Fred Tate and Jodie Foster’s respective upbringings, even more so the connection between a boy genius and child acting. Foster has been acting in commercials since she was 3 (??!!?) and critics loved her in movies like Bugsy Malone, Freaky Friday, The Little Girl who Lives Down the Lane, and Taxi Driver— all in 1976– which certainly helped boost credibility for the rest of a still new career. Her career choices didn’t hit many highs in the ’80s despite her Oscar win for The Accused, since she wanted to focus on going back to university, some random school called Yale. I think that coming out of her schooling, this is not only giving her the conference to direct but now understanding that knowing a lot isn’t only half of understanding a lot. Little Man Tate isn’t a fumble by making Fred a caricature, or an autism stand-in but instead about these characters trying to understand each other. 

Little Man Tate
1990
dir. Jodie Foster
99 min.

Currently streaming on the Criterion Channel, Kanopy, and Hoopla