"My current favorite Fassbinder film. A love story against all odds—the age difference is quite outrageous. Who would make a film like this now, about an older, somewhat stolid woman who finds unexpected happiness, for a time, with a handsome, younger Moroccan immigrant? Fassbinder walks a tightrope—it feels real and unsentimental, and he doesn’t shy away from cruelty, but he truly earns Emmi’s words to Ali: “Together we’re strong.” I admire the economy of the storytelling. The repetition of scenes (even camera angles)—when Emmi walks into the bar or sits on the stairwell eating her lunch—gives the film a fated quality. And I love the many strange moments when time stands still and everyone just stands there looking!"

"I’ll never forget when I saw Jaws in the theater, the impact it had on me — so much that I wouldn’t swim in a swimming pool for the rest of the summer. [Laughs] And I enjoyed so much hearing later how Spielberg had had a hard time working with the shark, so they had decided to not show the shark, and instead use the music, you know. The way they did that was just incredible; the way they would shoot so that you’d see just the shark’s point of view instead of seeing the shark itself. It taught me, as a feature filmmaker, how important music is and involving all your senses and all that. So that’s my all-time favorite movie — Jaws."

"One of my favorite films has always been Tootsie. I think I fell in love with New York and the romantic idea of being an actor from that movie. I saw it in a theater when I was really young and I don’t think I understood it all, but I remember people laughing so hard and I just knew I was watching a great movie. And all that stuff between Dustin Hoffman and Sydney Pollack is amazing. I revisit that movie a lot. I think, again it has that effect — it’s a very bittersweet movie, because it’s really funny but it also has those great sweet, honest moments. And it’s about a guy wearing a dress. I mean, it’s amazing that they pulled that movie off."

"When this came out, the hysteria over the clit-scissors scene was all I heard about, and when I watched the film, that was the least shocking thing for me. That scene with the crow in the foxhole and Dafoe beating on it trying to get it to die—that reminded me of an anxiety dream I've had, like a déjà vu from my own emotions. It's comforting when someone else’s darkness mirrors your own. Lars is brave with how intimate he is in his films. He goes off and says things that get him in trouble, and his bravery gets overshadowed. I see him as wonderfully vulnerable and brave. This is one of my top-five favorite films of all time."

"I was doing an assistant editor job in Prague for three months, and I brought with me about fifteen Bergman DVDs. Bizarrely, I was working on Shanghai Knights with Jackie Chan and Owen Wilson during the day and coming home to Persona in the evening. It was not necessarily good for my state of mind, but it was an amazing cinematic education. It’s virtually impossible to choose a favorite from his films, so I’ll choose two. I do think, though, that Cries and Whispers sums up what it means to be human—the moment when Agnes screams out in agony to her sisters as they stand by her deathbed “Can anyone help me?” and of course they can’t, or they won’t. Holy fuck."

"My favorite genre: movies that are for children that are not for children at all. (And when Mike Patton, with Fantômas, covered one of its songs on the band’s 2001 album, The Director’s Cut, an even darker veil was pulled over the film.) This film sends me back to summer nights down South, running through the woods long after the dinner bell rang. I’d freeze on the line between our glowing yellow porch light in front and the deeper woods behind. The compact blackness of those deeper woods terrified me, but it hypnotized me more. The Night of the Hunter’s river sequence and the title sequence of To Kill a Mockingbird are the truest portrayals of childhood that have ever been captured on film."

"My favorite movie is The Talented Mr. Ripley. “Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy — Tommy.” Philip Seymour Hoffman was crazy. Jude Law was just great. I don’t like what he did, but it was just the whole running-around-Europe-loving-jazz [thing]. That was very interesting to me. He didn’t want to do his father’s business. He just wanted to love jazz. He was free enough to do it and be content. I think Matt Damon was very interesting. Just to be so conniving and to steal identities and money. Jude Law was so naive for a while and then he realized Damon was a moocher. It was kind of weird how quickly someone could be deceived when they’re caught up in their own world."

"I think Philip Kaufman is one of our most underappreciated filmmakers. His films are funny and sophisticated and are often very insightful explorations into sexual interplay among adults. Having read the Kundera novel a couple of times, and having seen the film many more, I am astounded by the adaptation. Though some disagree, I think Kaufman did justice to the source (not that it matters in the slightest). And is there a sexier performance than Lena Olin’s? Wow. The film is one of my favorites, but the true reason it made the list is that this Criterion release has one of my favorite commentaries in the collection, featuring Kaufman, Olin, and the great Walter Murch. Unfortunately, the Criterion edition is out of print."

"It was a struggle for me to choose just one Louis Malle film, so I chose two to count as one. This one is particularly exceptional, thanks in part to the amazing performance by Maurice Ronet. Pushed by Malle to lose forty pounds, Ronet gave a hard, hopeless portrayal of a despondent and suicidal man saying good-bye to his disdainful and shallow youth. Though he originally shot the film in color, Malle switched to black and white to more accurately depict the subject matter. Listening to the commentary, I learned that Malle used this film as a sort of exorcism for himself, feeling that he had already done everything at such a young age. Deeply personal, it was his favorite of his own films."