Directors and actors being what they are, they like a good argument. On one side are obsessive perfectionists, on the other self-involved exhibitionists – or so the theory goes. It's often proved a combustible mix in the past, with what is euphemistically termed "creative tension" often adding to the dynamic of the final film.

The media, obviously, is the silent third partner in all this; though you, the reader, ought to be equally ashamed, gleefully drinking in all the foul-mouthed resentment and high-decibel score-settling. You don't have to look far: actors Léa Seydoux and Adèle Exarchopolous turned on Blue Is the Warmest Colour director Abdellatif Kechiche, accusing him of traumatising them during the extended periods shooting sex and fight scenes.

And this only a few months after they were sobbing in each other's arms after being jointly awarded the Palme d'Or at Cannes. Feuding, though, is as old as the movies themselves. Here are a few of the best.

Polanski v Dunaway

Faye Dunaway and Roman Polanski on the set of Chinatown. Photograph: Steve Schapiro/Corbis



In the red corner Roman "Shorty" Polanski

In the blue corner "Frantic" Faye Dunaway

What was the prize? A toilet break. In the, admittedly possibly apocryphal, incident – recounted in Easy Riders, Raging Bulls – Polanski was shooting a scene for Chinatown where Dunaway was waiting in a car. She said she wanted to visit the facilities, but Polanski told her to stay put. Shortly afterwards, as Polanski talked to her through the car window, she threw a cupful of liquid in his face, leading to the immortal exchange: Polanski: "You cunt, that's piss!"

Dunaway: "Yes, you little putz!"

Who won? Dunaway, on points.

Storm in a teacup? Dunaway is neurotically brilliant in Chinatown, so clearly the tension between her and Polanski didn't hurt. But by the early 80s she had developed a reputation for being "difficult", a view compounded by her extravagant performance as an unbalanced Joan Crawford in Mommie Dearest, and her subseqent hostility towards our own mild-mannered Xan Brooks. So perhaps she won a battle, but lost the war.

Kaye v Norton

Edward Norton in American History X Photograph: Sportsphoto Ltd./Allstar



In the red corner Tony "Baloney" Kaye

In the blue corner "Smilin'" Edward Norton

What was the prize? The final cut on American History X. Kaye, an unabashed eccentric, after an electrifying career in commercials, was making his first film in Hollywood in the late 90s with the study of an American neo-Nazi. Norton was the lead, riding high from an Oscar nomination for his first film, Primal Fear. By his own admission Kaye was "preoccupied with destroying [himself]" and "out to lunch", pulling such stunts as taking a group of clergymen into a meeting with studio executives. The studio gave Norton the chance to complete his own edit, and chose to release it over Kaye's.

Who won? Norton, hands down. He got another Oscar nomination, then went on to do Fight Club.

Storm in a teacup? It proved catastrophic, in career terms, for Kaye; his next released feature was Detachment, 13 years later (though he did complete the controversial documentary Lake of Fire, about abortion, in 2006). Norton's rep as an actor has survived unscathed, though as a director he failed to walk the walk, with the lame theological comedy Keeping the Faith being his only credit. Kaye, true to form, has had the last word on Faith: "'Pretty fucking awful' hardly covers that one."

Hitchcock v Hedren

Tippi Hedren in The Birds. Photograph: Courtesy Everett Collection / Re



In the red corner Alfred "The Blob" Hitchcock

In the blue corner Tippi "Ice" Hedren

What was the prize? A seven-year acting contract. Hitchcock had plucked Hedren, an unknown model, from obscurity to star in The Birds, the latest in a string of perfectly poised, blond-haired performers. Though Hedren would also complete another Hitchcock film, Marnie, she later complained to Hitchcock biographer Donald Spoto that the director had sexually harrassed her. During Marnie, Hedren wanted to go to New York to collect an award; when Hitchcock refused, according to another biographer, John Russell Taylor she screamed that he was a "fat pig" on set. Their relationship never recovered, and Hitchcock sold the contract to Universal.

Who won? Hitchcock, though cut and bloodied. Neither got what they wanted; Hedren never became a proper star, and Marnie's box-office failure saw an aging Hitchcock's career enter a decline.

Storm in a teacup? Absolutely not. Since Hitchcock's death in 1980, Hedren has repeatedly attacked his controlling, possessive behaviour. So much so that it became the meaty subject of The Girl, the excellent 2012 TV film.

Russell v Tomlin



In the red corner "Psycho" David O Russell

In the blue corner "Psycho" Lily Tomlin

What was the prize? Directorial authority. Tomlin, the veteran comic and actor who had become a comedy star on Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In and who had appeared in the likes of Nashville and Short Cuts for Robert Altman, completely lost it with director David O Russell on the "existential detective" movie I Heart Huckabees ("Leave me the fuck alone!"). Russell lost it back ("I'm not here to be fucking yelled at!") Fortunately their meltdowns were leaked on to YouTube, for the world to enjoy the spectacle of flying props, cowering crew members, and Tomlin telling Dustin Hoffman "Fuck you, too."

Who won? Draw. If it was on a stage, they'd have stormed off in opposite directions.

Storm in a teacup? Pretty much. Tomlin swiftly informed the media she "loved David" and neither appeared especially harmed by the row. Russell has, however, developed a rep for on-set bust-ups, having supposedly riled George Clooney on Three Kings, and didn't release a feature for six years after Huckabees – though that was largely down to collapsed finance for Nailed, his next, never-finished one. Since 2010's The Fighter, though, his career has gone from strength to strength.

Kubrick v Duvall

Shelley Duvall in The Shining. Photograph: Allstar/Cinetext/WARNER BROS



In the red corner "Smokin'" Stanley Kubrick

In the blue corner "Shakin'" Shelley Duvall

What was the prize? Acting very, very scared. Not so much a feud as victimisation. Kubrick subsequently made it clear that he deliberately picked on Duvall to enhance her "emotionally fragile" qualities in The Shining, even being caught on camera loudly complaining at the time she was taking to prepare for shots. Duvall was also subjected to Kubrick's infamous ordeal by retake, with the scene of her waving a baseball bat at Jack Nicholson supposedly reshot 127 times. (Though Steadicam operator Garrett Brown says it was "only" 35 or 40 times.) Duvall apparently had a near-breakdown on set, and suffered stress-related illnesses for months.

Who won? Kubrick by knockout.

Storm in a teacup? Duvall largely dropped out of acting for several years after completing the film, though she later said "the end justified the means". Kubrick, of course, moved on to other things (very slowly): Full Metal Jacket and then Eyes Wide Shut. His reputation as an exacting perfectionist was, if anything, enhanced by what Duvall went through.

Smith v Willis

Bruce Willis and Kevin Smith. Photograph: Sportsphoto Ltd./Allstar



In the red corner Kevin "Masked Avenger" Smith

In the blue corner Bruce "Basher" Willis

What was the prize? Intact hero-worship. Smith had admired fellow New Jersey native Willis since he was a little kid, so was delighted when he got the chance to direct him in Cop Out. The film was a flop (though at $44m it's still Smith's biggest US earner) and it transpired later the experience was a disappointment for Smith. Cracks first appeared when Smith went on the Marc Maron podcast, and he called Willis a "dick", and "fucking soul-crushing". In his book Tough Shit, Smith described Willis as "the unhappiest, most bitter, and meanest emo-bitch I've ever met at any job I've held down." Willis has responded in a relatively restrained fashion, telling Time Out Smith was "a whiner" and that "sometimes you just don't get along".

Who won? Fought a draw.

Storm in a teacup? Not much to this one. Smith likes a good anecdote, especially as his career involves more writing and stand-up these days than actual film-making, and he has had good mileage out of this one. Willis appears to have risen above it, now that his career is less in the doldrums than it was (what with Looper, Moonrise Kingdom, and the Red movies).

Herzog v Kinski

Werner Herzog and Klaus Kinski. Photograph: Allstar/Cinetext/BBC



In the red corner Werner "Shoe Eater" Herzog

In the blue corner "Krazy" Klaus Kinski

What was the prize? Sheer survival. Younger readers may not be entirely aware of this, but in a previous life Werner Herzog was the gadfly, risk-taking poltergeist of the German new wave, and Klaus Kinski his equally deranged on-screen foil. The pair of them made a string of brilliant films together – Aguirre Wrath of God, Nosferatu the Vampyre, Fitzcarraldo – and their combative relationship, so vital for the extraordinary tension of the film-making, often exploded. Most notoriously, Herzog threatened to put eight bullets in Kinski's head if the actor carried out his threat of leaving Aguirre's jungle location. Kinski stayed put.

Who won? One of those fights where they both hammer away at each other till they both keel over, covered in blood.

Storm in a teacup? As feuds go, it was incredibly productive. The films are testament to their talents, and after Kinski died in 1991, Herzog completed My Best Fiend, a tribute to his muse. It's allegedly non-fictional, but who can tell?