B estowed on an elite few, the mantle of Noted Film-maker can be both a crown and a burden. On the positive side, it can serve as protection: viewing an ennobled director’s films through this prism, auteurist critics can feel obliged to make excuses for even the worst among them. (The rationale is that a bad film by a Noted Film-maker is still better than the best efforts of a jobbing hack.) One disadvantage is that such honorifics can leave a creative patrolling a very narrow courtyard, searching only for material worthy of a Noted Film-maker; another is that the dismay when a project doesn’t spark is all the greater. A prominent test case has just reached Netflix in the Kathryn Bigelow-directed A House of Dynamite, a not-so-heavy-hitter that – if texts from cinephile pals this past week

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