Meg Baird

"I never took any film classes back in college, but these are two that I saw by sneaking into different post-lecture screenings. A fascination with the power of the missing person has stayed with me. The dizzying number of overlapping layers—worlds, eras, sympathies, and attachments—has kept Rebecca one of my all time favorites. Joan Fontaine’s nameless character can seem pathetic at times—overwhelmed by an insane situation in her austere, claustrophobic, itchy wool outfits. But she can also feel as powerful as a five-alarm wake-up call from the present tense. (Yikes, especially if the present tense is 1940.)"

"Agoraphobia, colonialism, trespass and gravity of sacred spaces, and a haunting portrayal of institutionalized abuse. I truly love how this film has become such a potent part of the fashion canon, via those pretty white dresses in afternoon sunlight. That golden light! And the subterranean hum in the sound design is perfect."

"I was so excited by the news of this incredible release and restoration. Every moment is beautiful—as, of course, is the soundtrack by Ravi Shankar. Some scenes even seem to be able to penetrate the boundary of your own personal memory. Electrifying but peaceful. Throughout the entire trilogy, everything is leaving Apu behind, but the final scene shows all currents flooding home to him."

"I had the chance to see Pennebaker give a talk before a screening of Monterey Pop. The audience got incredibly rowdy during his discussion of his short film Daybreak Express and interrupted Pennebaker’s remarks, chanting “Let’s rock!” Pennebaker gave up and rolled the film. Really lousy, but fitting. Watching Pennebaker and the Maysles’ incredible documentaries in tandem give me those same raw and complex feelings about rock ‘n’ roll as an art and a primal force."

"I think I may have counted wrong! I love this film far too much to talk about it anyway."

"I never took any film classes back in college, but these are two that I saw by sneaking into different post-lecture screenings. A fascination with the power of the missing person has stayed with me. The dizzying number of overlapping layers—worlds, eras, sympathies, and attachments—has kept Rebecca one of my all time favorites. Joan Fontaine’s nameless character can seem pathetic at times—overwhelmed by an insane situation in her austere, claustrophobic, itchy wool outfits. But she can also feel as powerful as a five-alarm wake-up call from the present tense. (Yikes, especially if the present tense is 1940.)"

"I had the chance to see Pennebaker give a talk before a screening of Monterey Pop. The audience got incredibly rowdy during his discussion of his short film Daybreak Express and interrupted Pennebaker’s remarks, chanting “Let’s rock!” Pennebaker gave up and rolled the film. Really lousy, but fitting. Watching Pennebaker and the Maysles’ incredible documentaries in tandem give me those same raw and complex feelings about rock ‘n’ roll as an art and a primal force."

"A late-night friend right up there with Cosmos and Hearts of Space. I’m sure I wouldn’t like this series as much without the Matt Dillon segment (episode three). The camaraderie in the other pieces is great, but the tension of that segment is built in real-time improvisation. The story unfolds right before you—one of the coolest, most magical feelings you can get. I still get really uncomfortable at the fish/trousers part in the Tom Waits episode, though."