"This is a weird tie. But A Room with a View was my favorite movie when I was nine. And it really screwed with my head. It’s so over-the-top romantic, and I remember it made me dizzy with desire. I really expected nothing less than Julian Sands in a Tuscan poppy field from my adult romantic life. And Criterion is about to release it . . . I’m really excited about this. Honestly, I haven’t seen it since I was like fifteen, so it’s high time to revisit it. But I’m a little scared to revisit it, too, so I’m pairing it with another about-to-released Criterion movie, Agnes Varda’s Documenteur, which I saw recently at Lincoln Center and really, really loved. Documenteur is this gorgeous, weird portrayal of heartbreak and aimless wandering through a strange city trying to find an apartment. Watching it gets you in touch with all the times you’ve felt horribly depressed and also overwhelmed by the beauty and color of everything around you. It’s kind of about what happens after you get together with Julian Sands and have a kid with him and then you separate and suddenly you’re a single mother wandering around Los Angeles crying."

"When I first saw Brazil in the late ’80s, it hit me like a truck. It was such a powerful, bold vision, so joyous in its escapism and so crushing in its ultimate nihilism, that it left my teenage mind in tatters. I wasn’t quite sure what I’d watched but knew it was unlike anything I’d seen before. The impressive (and somewhat sad) fact is that, decades later, I still haven’t seen anything quite like Brazil. It escaped from Terry Gilliam’s brain with such velocity that its power even today is undeniable. I showed it at the New Beverly Cinema in Los Angeles in January of this year, and it still confounded me. I asked Terry Gilliam if he would write a quick intro for me to read out before the screening. This was it: Brazil was made by a bunch of young people who didn’t know any better. They are older and wiser now, but it seems America isn’t. It’s a pity that George W. and Dick Cheney aren’t still running the show. I was tempted to sue them for the illegal and unauthorized remake of Brazil. Just think . . . more people are living my movie than ever went to see it."

"When I was first living in Los Angeles. I was in love with a French girl, now my wife, and I became immersed in the way her culture viewed life. There was a different set of priorities at work, a value of simplicity and pure ingredients, both in the food and the filmmaking. This film blew my mind. The cast is all children. It contains one of the great suspense sequences of all time: a toddler climbing out an apartment window trying to reach a kitten while his mother talks on the phone, ignorant to the tragedy at hand. Another vignette follows an older boy teaching a younger boy how to pick up girls. Very French, but so honest and pure. I remember watching the extras on the DVD of A Man and a Woman, another great film. The crew consisted of a handheld Bolex and a sound recordist, mostly natural light. Everything was in the eyes, the body language — just two people learning each other. It informed the way I made Safety Not Guaranteed. Stripped down, but not messy or ugly. Clear and audible sound, like what your ears would capture if you were there. Intimate. Real. The best."

"This is a weird tie. But A Room with a View was my favorite movie when I was nine. And it really screwed with my head. It’s so over-the-top romantic, and I remember it made me dizzy with desire. I really expected nothing less than Julian Sands in a Tuscan poppy field from my adult romantic life. And Criterion is about to release it . . . I’m really excited about this. Honestly, I haven’t seen it since I was like fifteen, so it’s high time to revisit it. But I’m a little scared to revisit it, too, so I’m pairing it with another about-to-released Criterion movie, Agnes Varda’s Documenteur, which I saw recently at Lincoln Center and really, really loved. Documenteur is this gorgeous, weird portrayal of heartbreak and aimless wandering through a strange city trying to find an apartment. Watching it gets you in touch with all the times you’ve felt horribly depressed and also overwhelmed by the beauty and color of everything around you. It’s kind of about what happens after you get together with Julian Sands and have a kid with him and then you separate and suddenly you’re a single mother wandering around Los Angeles crying."