"That’s real easy. I’d have to say Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here, with the dudes shaking hands and the guy is lit on fire. Storm Thorgersen is an amazing artist, so much so that we used a guy named Hugh Syme, who was a protégé of his, for Countdown To Extinction and Youthanasia. We wanted something original and thought provoking and not just an illustration. We got pigeonholed and everyone was like ‘Where’s Vic?’ every time. With Youthanasia, people’s asses were growing together because they thought we actually hung babies upside down and took pictures. What we did was have the moms come in and the babies were on these clear tables with the light underneath, then the moms would grab their toes and pull their legs straight so it looked like they were hanging by their feet. I thought that was brilliant."

"I guess I’m a sucker for black and white. This 1970 independent classic is from writer/director Leonard Kastle, who took over after Martin Scorsese was let go. Shirley Stoler is funny and heartbreaking as the homicidal, jealous companion of scam artist Tony Lo Bianco. Based on a true story, it held particular interest for me because the killers at one point decide to retire to suburban Valley Stream, Long Island, the town where I primarily grew up and directed my first film, Trees Lounge. I once worked with Tony on an episode of the TV series Homicide and excitedly told him he had one of my favorite lines in one of my favorite movies. After sizing me up for a few seconds, he replied, “Well, that would have to be the Honeymoon Killers, and the line of course is, ‘Valley Stream. Valley Stream. What a joke!’”"

"Another one that I have to say – because I am an artist, I am a graphic designer and an art guy – is 300. That literally was a seismic shift in filmmaking for me, because Zack Snyder took this thing in such a creative direction. It was like, every frame, you could frame on your wall. You could literally take each piece of that movie, frame it, and it would stand as a piece of art, and that’s what I loved about that movie. Gerard [Butler] is my friend; we did Gamer together, and that’s all I could talk about on set. I was like his 300 groupie on that whole movie, you know? [laughs] But the power and the simplicity of what it was all about, too. Zack got to the archetype of what all the characters were; the story was simple, it was powerful."

"Kwaidan is a film like no other. Adapted from Japanese legends and myths that were collected by Irish author Lafcadio Hearn, the film is an anthology of four ghost stories. The superstitiousness of Irish culture clearly influenced Hearn’s recording of these tales, and to see these stories adapted again by a Japanese artist is fascinating. I think Kobayashi poured his soul into this project. Kwaidan, in every way, bleeds Japanese culture and identity: not a loud and obnoxious nationalistic pride, but a thoughtful and considered love and respect for its heritage. Toru Takemitsu provides an austere and haunting score using traditional Japanese instruments and warped sound effects. The majority of the film is shot on a soundstage and features strikingly, often eerily painted backdrops. This was Kobayashi’s first color project, and cinematographer Yoshio Miyajima uses light, a 2:35:1 aspect ratio, and refined camera movement to astonishing effect."

"I have this real image - for some reason - that it came out the summer I left prep school, and was going to public school. I was 13, and I remember playing it at a friend's house - Benjamin - and I also have this image of me sitting in the bath listening to it on the cassette machine and having to wipe my hands when I changed the tape over. I thought it was a man to begin with, when I first heard 'Fast Car' on the radio. The a capella one, 'Behind The Wall', blew my mind. There's not many records that are that concise as a piece of work, and it often happens when it's a new artist because they're not having to try so hard and they just come out with what they want. That record was a real moment, whatever that moment was."

"As a child, I wanted to grow up to be a professional cartoonist, and when I was about twelve or thirteen my father (right around the time he showed me The Rocky Horror Picture Show) handed me a Washington Post article about Robert Crumb and said, “Here, you might be interested in this.” And boy, was he right! Like finding out that the Cramps and Meet the Feebles existed, this was revelatory. I didn’t know you were allowed to make art like this. (And of course, in Crumb’s case, sometimes you’re not.) Zwigoff’s portrait-of-the-artist-as-nihilistic-misanthrope is one of the all-time great docs about creativity and the toll it can take (see Burden of Dreams for another one!), and on top of that, it’s caustically funny and soul-crushingly humane. Where have you gone, Terry Zwigoff? Our nation turns its lonely eyes to you."