"[Anything in Ashby’s] body of work is always recognizably him, but it’s pretty elastic. Like Being There is very different than Shampoo in a lot of ways. There’s a little bit of the surreal that can enter in, but at the same time, they’re very grounded and very of their time, and have a certain gritty feel to them. They’re not so clean. There’s a naturalism there that he marries with some very bold moves and even magical realism. [The Landlord] is this movie that not too many people have seen, didn’t have a big release originally, and it’s hard to find on DVD, and doesn’t have the reputation of Harold and Maude and Coming Home. But I kind of think it might be his best movie. Maybe it’s just because it’s so screamingly brave in a lot of ways, and it hits so many issues. There’s so few American movies that touch on class, and this just comes straight at you like a train, talking about class issues, race. [It’s about] this young man who’s born into privilege, struggling with his place. “He is to the manor born,” you know? He has money in his blood, and he can afford to go buy a building where people are living. Just a young man, Beau Bridges, and it’s probably my favorite thing I’ve ever seen Beau Bridges do, too. It’s sort of startling to see him in this role as the golden boy, and you can almost see Jeff Bridges playing it, too. And the fact that this white guy, automatically, just by the color of his skin and the place he was born and the family he was born into, has the ability to be responsible for the lives of all of these far less fortunate or privileged people. [He struggles] with that sense of responsibility and [tries] to reject it and give up that control, but [also] do right by these people. I don’t know, it’s so complex. But [Ashby’s] not afraid to have some very broad comic moments. You know, there’s a few people who can do it since. Like Alexander Payne or David O. Russell, a few other people whose work you can see owe a lot to Ashby."

"My dad used to sing Sinatra songs all the time around the house. He used also sing Burt Bacharach and different things like that. And you grow up with your parents' music whether you want to or not. But in a bizarre way, my dad was one of those guys who would just constantly sing – I don't mean while shopping in the Co-Op or whatever – but he would just sing at home all the time. Actually, I just did a thing with Ronnie Scott's big band at Cheltenham Jazz Festival the other week and I remember those songs the way my dad sang them which means I remember them with completely wrong lyrics – he didn't know the actual words! He used to that with lots of things – he'd sing 'Jerusalem' with the line "and did those feet, those WHACKING great feet" for some reason! I'm sure a lot of dads and mums used to do it. This particular album was produced by Quincy Jones and features the Count Basie orchestra. So it's meant to have been a golden era of Sinatra doing the Vegas years because it was still in the part when songs were arranged with a big band and orchestra. But then you remember Quincy Jones produced Michael Jackson – so there's a weird connection there. I used to speak to jazzers about songs we were doing and they would ask 'are we doing the Sands version?' – I needed to find out what that actually meant! But it's just amazing to be in that room for a second. Some of that – some of the Elvis in Vegas stuff too – becomes mythology. A lifestyle. Like Elton John or Celine Dion although I don't mean that in a derogatory way. And I certainly don't think it's derogatory now. It affords people to put on a show they couldn't possibly do anywhere else. they can afford to go completely over the top with it. Would I like a Vegas period? I'd LOVE a Vegas period! Bring it on! I don't think I have the material – I've seen Elton do these massive three hour stint gigs but he has the songs to back them up. I just don't think I've got that material. Although maybe I could do something in Vegas though…"


"Taxi DriverComing off my head, I could just go on, but… Taxi Driver. I was really moved by the unraveling of this guy, and the interesting choices Scorsese made, the things he used to tell the story. You know, like zooming in to the bottle of Alka Seltzer fizzling, this guy’s about to really cross over to the next layer of dementia. Just amazing choices, and for him to be so meant to be a filmmaker. Be it and feel it. And De Niro, just, oh man, I just get carried away. Every time, in the beginning of that movie, when he — he’s just so not self aware — he goes in to ask the girl out at the campaign center, and the feeling’s so uncomfortable. I loved him also as Rupert Pupkin in King of Comedy. Man, I love the way De Niro can sorta just play a guy that’s not aware. So those are five. I wouldn’t say they’re my favorite movies of all time. I just say it if I had to, off the top of my head. It just came, and if you asked me again tomorrow, it might be maybe one of those, maybe a bunch of others."