"La belle et la bête by Jean Cocteau. It’s the movie that made me want to be an actress. I was four-years-old and my dad had it on laser disc. I was being annoying and bratty or whatever, I was a child, and my dad said, “Hey, watch this movie.” This is when we lived in LA and we had this great giant striped couch and I was wearing — I remember this so well — this corduroy dress with red trim, and I lay there and started watching it. I had a really vivid imagination as a child but I had never seen anything like this in my life. Do you remember the scene where she faints and the Beast carries her and he has that incredible cloak that looks like it is actually the night sky? It’s insane. And he carries her and all the arms — we had these arms in our house, these giant arms that hold the candles — all the arms move and he’s carrying her and walks into her bedroom, and as he goes through the door with her, her clothes go from rags to riches. I remember that being the specific scene where I was like, “I wanna do that. How does that happen? I wanna be a part of that.” That was the day I knew I wanted to be an actress. Also, the way that the Beast smokes, when he looks at her and his skin smokes; and when he takes off the glove and his hand’s just smoking. The whole ending… it’s this weird, twisted ending."

"I got it and I burned it and listened to it on the plane a lot. That one, for her, it goes back to trying to play more old-style jazz and she's playing incredible piano on it and the drummer's incredible. It's just a sick record. When you listen to an incredible jazz record, it's just undeniable, nobody else can touch it, no white dude - and if they can, it's too schooled. That's why I like that one - I can reference the later, freer ones, but I listen to a lot of older records. There's obviously Love Supreme, but that's obviously a transitional record from [John Coltrane's] earlier ones, Soul Train and Giant Steps. This is more advanced than that: they're definitely alluding to older jazz and taking it to another place, but they never go too apeshit, they never start squealing, but that's a special record."

"I’ve always espoused this dopey idea that everyone should have one Shakespeare play that they know inside out. Just pick one. For me, it’s Macbeth. I’ve seen countless performances and probably watched most every movie version. (Hey, Scotland, PA, I got your back!). For me, Roman Polanski’s Macbeth is really the greatest of all Macbeths (and would have to be in the running for best Shakespeare film). People often mention how it was Polanski’s first film after the Sharon Tate murder or how Hugh Hefner was a producer. Try to get past all the extracurricular stuff and just play’dst (with the English subtitles on, I’d suggest) for the incredible performances, the mastery of Polanski’s cine-aesthetic precision, and a bleakness that feels so relevant today. I love how it’s so true to the play yet also so clearly a Polanski film. It’s harrowing, visceral, and frightening, like all his best work."

"I’d say Godfather 2 was up there. (And I did a movie for Francis…) After Godfather 1, I wouldn’t know how he would make a Godfather 2, but he did it. Because of the time span and what it covered, it’s an opera. I mean, there are acts, and it just worked, and I hadn’t seen that done really well. I’ll go see a movie because of moments, and I’ll go to see that movie again. I mean, like The Killing, the movie that Kubrick made when he began. Sterling Hayden is in it, where they robbed the racetrack, you know? And Sterling Hayden is in the locker room getting ready, putting the mask on, and realizing they’re not flowers in the box but a machine gun. It’s just before kick-off and he takes a long deep breath, and Stanley Kubrick was there for him."