"I rarely single a film out solely for production design, but this is an exception. It influenced me before I worked in film. The stage sets by Eiko Ishioka of the Temple of the Golden Pavilion alone are striking. Inspired use of nonlinear storytelling and cinematic poetry."

"I was completely unprepared when I saw Mulholland Dr. in a small art-house cinema in Stockholm, and it blew my mind. I came out of the movie and just felt like I needed to talk to people and ask questions, like, did you see what I saw? It was huge for me, and it almost felt like, you can’t mess with people like this and get away with it, somebody should do something about it. Usually when American cinema tries to be surreal or nonlinear or non-narrative, it turns either really pretentious or really Hollywood. But David Lynch, in this film but also in general, is probably the only person I know who has succeeded in making his own version of American surrealism."

"Next movie, I have to put a [Takeshi] Kitano film in there somewhere. I get torn between two, but it’s always between Sonatine and Hana-bi for me. They’re both incredible, but I tend to always veer towards Hana-bi, because as much as I love Sonatine, what Hana-bi has is heart. The emotional resonance of that ending is probably one of the most subtly heartbreaking moments in cinema. I just think the film’s an absolute masterpiece. His nonlinear storytelling in that movie, I don’t think he’s ever kind of done that better. It’s just so incredibly well put together. The fact that he can go from these moments of horrific, brutal violence, but then, within a few minutes, have a scene as playful as when he’s playing “guess the card” with his wife in the car, and he can see the cards in the rear-view mirror. To have a scene that’s as playful and as funny and as contemplative as that… I just think he’s a master filmmaker, and I’ve pretty much watched everything he’s done. So, that’s high up on that list then."

"The last one is Pulp Fiction. Me and my, as he was then, I suppose, eight-year-old, nine-year-old son, thought it was great. I just loved, again, the way [Quentin Tarantino] used time, the way he moved backwards and forwards in time, which I thought was sort of groundbreaking, although it may not have been. But I thought it was. And I saw the energy and the vigor of it all, and just the images of it. I just love that film. I watch it now and again, as it were, and it never palls for me at all, but I just thought he kind of invented a way, or kind of storytelling technique, which is sort of second nature to us all now, but again, that nonlinear business — for me, it was a revelation. I’m sure there have been other films like it, but this seemed to work so well within a very contemporary, very fast-moving, very original piece. To have the courage to play with the structure, and tell things backwards and forwards and all that sort of thing, I thought, was not just cute, or just showmanship. It actually enhanced the drama, trying to figure out where you were and what was going on. I found that a very creative effort, and so did my son, which thrilled me. He wasn’t fazed by it at all."

"Outside of 2001: A Space Odyssey, these are my favorite Kubrick films. The Killing is a tense and lean noir starring the great Sterling Hayden and a cast of character actors (Marie Windsor, Elisha Cook Jr., Jay C. Flippen, Timothy Carey, et al.), each of whom possesses his or her own special brand of menace and pathos. The film’s dialogue is by the best crime writer who ever lived, Jim Thompson (who worked with Kubrick and Calder Willingham on Paths of Glory as well), and it’s the music in Kubrick’s nonlinear racetrack heist caper, which I think is the best noir ever made. Hayden is one of the most curious creatures to ever grace the screen. I can never take my eyes off him, and as gruff as he is, I always feel for him. The tragic, cosmic joke at the end of this movie will break your heart—even when you’re wondering why you wanted this bum to get away with the crime. Johnny Clay is the ultimate “beautiful loser.” Paths of Glory is, in my humble opinion, the finest war film ever made. While not concerned primarily with combat and focusing instead on its multilayered consequences, the drama is as explosive as any battlefield action you’ll ever see. It lays bare the blatant hypocrisy of the powers that be, who never get their hands dirty but put innocent and well-intentioned men in the trenches to fight their battles for them. Kubrick takes us through the trenches with dazzling tracking shots that show us the weathered faces of the men who fought the Great War, some of whom will later be brought to trial and executed for “cowardice” after not being able to pull off an impossible mission. Kirk Douglas has never been better. And if the final scene in the battered cabaret, featuring Kubrick’s future wife, Christiane, singing a German folk song, doesn’t destroy you completely, you are probably some hideous sun demon."

"Outside of 2001: A Space Odyssey, these are my favorite Kubrick films. The Killing is a tense and lean noir starring the great Sterling Hayden and a cast of character actors (Marie Windsor, Elisha Cook Jr., Jay C. Flippen, Timothy Carey, et al.), each of whom possesses his or her own special brand of menace and pathos. The film’s dialogue is by the best crime writer who ever lived, Jim Thompson (who worked with Kubrick and Calder Willingham on Paths of Glory as well), and it’s the music in Kubrick’s nonlinear racetrack heist caper, which I think is the best noir ever made. Hayden is one of the most curious creatures to ever grace the screen. I can never take my eyes off him, and as gruff as he is, I always feel for him. The tragic, cosmic joke at the end of this movie will break your heart—even when you’re wondering why you wanted this bum to get away with the crime. Johnny Clay is the ultimate “beautiful loser.” Paths of Glory is, in my humble opinion, the finest war film ever made. While not concerned primarily with combat and focusing instead on its multilayered consequences, the drama is as explosive as any battlefield action you’ll ever see. It lays bare the blatant hypocrisy of the powers that be, who never get their hands dirty but put innocent and well-intentioned men in the trenches to fight their battles for them. Kubrick takes us through the trenches with dazzling tracking shots that show us the weathered faces of the men who fought the Great War, some of whom will later be brought to trial and executed for “cowardice” after not being able to pull off an impossible mission. Kirk Douglas has never been better. And if the final scene in the battered cabaret, featuring Kubrick’s future wife, Christiane, singing a German folk song, doesn’t destroy you completely, you are probably some hideous sun demon."