"A boy I had a crush on gave this to me to read at university. In a way, it was my first taste of America and of New York, where I now live. It really affected me. A tragic tale of the life and death of Edie Sedgwick, the charming, broken, sophisticated, naive, sexy, innocent muse for a generation of geniuses—Andy Warhol, Bob Dylan and the Velvet Underground. The Queen of the Scene and its victim, too. I couldn’t stop looking at the photo of her on the cover in all her eye make up, and trying to work her out."

"I saw Pan’s Labyrinth when it played at the New York Film Festival, and it was a euphoric experience. That movie was just the best. I watched it four or five times in the theater. One time I was in Mexico with my family and I was wandering around the streets and saw that it was playing at a theater and I went in. I don’t speak very good Spanish, but the movie worked so well without me knowing what anybody was saying because the visual storytelling is so incredible. We watched it a lot as a reference on We the Animals."

"In 1950s Baltimore, my parents were pretty open. They read The New York Times and listened to Woody Guthrie records, so you can imagine what kind of a household that was. They were immigrants from Scotland, and their taste included a lot of American folk music like, Woody and Pete Seeger, both of whom made children’s albums, so that’s what I would hear. Later, I heard their other songs, which obviously had a political slant and a story to tell and a point of view. That was something to realize at a young age: that a song could do that."

"A beautiful film about Charlie Parker, played brilliantly by Forest Whitaker, and directed by an actor who’s obviously a big jazz fan. Bird really shows you how ludicrously gifted Parker was, how his mind worked on a completely different level, but also how much he got lost in self-loathing, and how addiction made everything fall apart. Parker was 34 when he died, but the coroner thought he was 60, looking at his body. By getting into the New York club scene and looking at aspects of racism, this film also shows just how much Parker achieved, given everything he was fighting against."

"I saw this one on the evening of its release in New York City. The advance buzz spread fears that it would ignite racial friction and incite race riots. The tension in the audience before it began was nothing I had ever experienced before in a movie house. The melting pot of moviegoers sat in stillness and silence and finally stood up and applauded the screen as the end credits rolled. We walked out of the theater transformed, more united, tolerant, and together than we were two hours before. How many films have ever been able to do that?"

"This is not only one of the funniest films ever made, but, as one who has spent time with a number of painters, I could see that it was really about painters and painting. And it was responsible for my first film—a short that ran for almost a year at the Paris Theater in New York. Of course, I’ll always love it. One of the lines I love is when the helper lady asks how you can tell when a picture is finished, and the painter hero looks at her quizzically and says, “You just know.” For me, that was movies."

"I was living a little bit of this story in real time, because the film came out while I was living on the border, reporting on drug trafficking in Northern Mexico for the Associated Press. (I was also dating the journalist consultant to the film, a reporter for the New York Times.) The filmmakers got it right. They captured the resignation that countless families caught in the narco racket feel: plata o plomo. Benicio del Toro is magnificent as a doomed local cop, and his performance is as understated and sure-footed as anything I’ve ever seen him in since."