"The first two that jump to mind are both from my formative years. One is To Kill a Mockingbird and the other was Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, both of which are films that I saw at a young age. Obviously To Kill a Mockingbird is, you know, one of the great novels of the 20th century, and a beautiful film adaptation of that that I think did a great job of… I mean, this is from a current perspective, having read the book a couple of times and read the book to my kids and seen the movie. But, at the time — I don’t know how old I was, if I was nine or eleven or twelve — but I was sort of viewing it from the perspective of the kids. The whole story is told from Scout’s perspective and the other kids, and like most kids growing up, I sort of saw Gregory Peck as the film version of my dad in the good guy standing up for what’s right and doing the right thing. Yeah, just a really well-made film with characters that I think are relatable to a really wide range of people, as all great storytelling is, whether it’s a film or a novel, or whatever it is. Something that’s accessible for a variety of ages and demographics and is something that speaks to a lot of people."

"Hustle & Flow showed me what could have happened to me. I hadn’t recognized that until I’d seen the movie completed; you never know what painting you’re making until the final stroke. And even then, it’s not finished until you put it into the frame. I didn’t understand the full impact of those individual strokes that we were making on a day to day basis until I saw [the film] — where A could have led me. I saw where A would end up at. And taking on B, C, and D… For a film to affect me that way, for a character to affect me that way, to where I feel worry and think about who Djay is… I still wonder about Shug and her baby. I still wonder about Key. Hustle & Flow also had music in it, which told some of that struggle. Remember, music used to be written for films, conveyed by the actors themselves. They knew when that music was played and they responded to it. Now, [merging a film to its music] is something that’s done as a separate act, and it’s more manipulative and not honest. Music in Hustle & Flow gave us another plane in which to relate everything to, and to play from. It widened the playing field; it brightened the road down the way, because you could move to that music, and be in step with the audience instead of the audience being manipulated into step with you."

"It is the most vexing challenge because I just find that, depending… I’m not so psychotic that my mind changes constantly on that subject, but it really depends on where you are in your life. You sort of have a rolling list of a few dozen that you cherish for different reasons. All you try to do is avoid interviews like this so you don’t get pinned down. [laughs] No, I always have trouble pinning anything to a fixed list. Why is it hard? Is it easy for you? You start thinking about the directors you leave off the list and your heart starts breaking. In chronological order, The Passion of Joan of Arc. The last time I saw that film, it struck as me as if it was an artifact from the period itself that it’s depicting. It was like a medium unto itself, and [Maria] Falconetti’s performance, it really cannot be compared to anything else. It’s beyond naturalism, it’s beyond melodrama, it’s beyond everything. It’s just coming straight out of her soul. But mainly, the last time I saw it I just had this weird time slip kind of experience where I felt like I was really seeing a mad visionary from the time who somehow invented the movie camera. [laughs] Putting on this intense pageant on this subject of intense religious devotion. I find that film a knockout. You can’t watch it lightly, but that’s all right."

"Despite the fact I love all sorts of Crimson records, I think this is still my favourite. Maybe just for nostalgia reasons, I listened to this record when I was very young. Before I was into jazz, before I was into weird music, I always loved this. Obviously I grew up with The Beatles and the Stones and Floyd and stuff, but I remember I was in a car and Jimi Hendrix came on the radio. I said 'what is this?' I was only 12, and a guy I was with looked at me like I was insane. In those days gas stations had lots of cassettes so we pulled over and I bought a cassette that had Are You Experienced on side A and Axis: Bold As Love on side B. I listened to it until it was completely worn through. That was my introduction to the 60s stuff that I hadn't been brought up listening to. King Crimson's early stuff was among that new, exciting 60s music that I hadn't heard. Robert Fripp became my guitar hero, he used to do a League of Crafty Guitarists thing in New York so I saw him play. I became a Fripp head, I saw them play in the 90s with my English teacher. It blew my mind, but they didn't play the old stuff. I'm not musiciany enough to like that stuff, but the early stuff resonates a lot."

"I actually had the poster of Saving Face hanging in my room for a long time. It was the first Asian-American movie that I saw that really connected with me. I’ve seen some Asian-American indies, but that really kind of opened up my search for them. I didn’t even really know about the genre when I first saw it. It was written and directed by an Asian-American woman, Alice Wu, and it centers around, an Asian-American lesbian. It stars one of my favorite actresses ever – Lynn Chen – and Michelle Krusiec. This girl, she’s from Queens, and she takes the 7. It was the first time I’d ever seen a movie with an Asian American on a 7 train! I think that was the first time I really understood what representation was. But it hit closer to home because she was an Asian-American woman and because, you know, she is from Queens. And she went to Flushing all the time, and her mom [Joan Chen] was kind of this Flushing socialite who actually becomes pregnant. And she kind of has to go between both worlds of being the good Asian daughter and also coming to terms with her sexuality. It was one of those movies that I think explored a lot of layers about the Asian-American experience and the negotiation that come with it. And, so, I love that movie so much. I still have the poster somewhere."

"The Bridge on the River Kwai was one of those movies that my father and I watched for the first time, and he prefaced it by saying, “You’re probably not going to like this movie now, but you’re going to understand it later.” [laughs] And I remember watching it with that I mind — because I was young — and now I’m at the end of… You know, my dad is no longer with me, and I look at Alec Guinness’s character in it, and I now understand him. Where, at a point earlier in my life, I didn’t understand him — I was like, “Why is this guy building a bridge for the enemy? Why would a person get so obsessed with this just to try to keep order?” — I now understand it. It’s one of those movies that means a lot to me, because it was the first time that I think my father showed me that movies can actually speak to an ageless part of your soul. I remember the first time I saw Unforgiven, and I thought it was going to be like this big Western shoot-em-up, and I was like, “Man, I didn’t like that movie at all.” Then, I was at work the next day, and I thought, “I can’t stop thinking about that movie. Maybe I saw it wrong.” And now it’s one of the best movies ever. Bridge on the River Kwai was the first time I ever realized that."

"I shamefully saw this study in maritime lunacy on one of those industry links that emit noxious gas from your computer if you dare to forward to anyone. I was about to do a joint interview with Robert Eggers for MovieMaker magazine, hence the link, and was pretty excited given how much I loved “The Witch.” “The Lighthouse” is unlike anything I’ve seen. Willem Dafoe reminded me a lot of a security guard I worked with at Trollope & Colls joinery in Reading many moons ago. It was that look in the eye from someone who saw too much of what was in their head. That’s something I instantly recognized and it brought me right back to the gates of that joinery. There were too many similarities — the pride in the job, the obsessive attention to detail, the authoritarian streak and the delusion. I got to reimagine my days archiving a room of architect’s drawings in a joinery as being stuck in a lighthouse with a flatulent Willem Dafoe. I adored the dialogue and I could listen to Dafoe and Pattinson endlessly if Mr. Eggers ever did any radio play spin-offs. There are elements of Harold Pinter and Herman Melville amongst a host of other touchstones I probably missed, but it’s a film steeped in its own logic. Its saline black & white photography is also moody enough to probably tempt Béla Tarr out of retirement."