"The very first Small Faces record was one of my favourites, with 'E Too D', 'Shake', 'Sha La La La Lee' and 'Whatcha Gonna Do About It?' That's one of the best records ever. I never saw the Small Faces, but they got on the radio. 'Shake' was the song – simple, three chords, but it sounded like everything was going on. It was a record that wasn't live, but sounded live to me. It's a great party record - a little dated now, but it is 50 years old. They sounded like they were having so much fun. I like records that sound like the band are having fun; mistakes never bothered me. The idea of mod didn't matter to me - they were just a British Invasion band."

"I first saw this in Detroit— I was seventeen, it was 1975. We lit up our Colombian spliffs, along with everyone else in the theater, an all-smoking venue. I’d never listened to reggae before. I’d never seen a movie where the hero is last pictured in a rain of gunfire, still blasting his pistol, the immortal prince. I hid my eyes from many of the scenes of cruelty: the sadistic pastor assigned to “care” for our young Ivan, the vicious corruption of the record companies, dope kingpins and government goons—who seem to be one and the same. When Ivan punctuates his overdue revenge strokes with a knife with “Don’t. Fuck. With. Me!”—I wondered if I’d draw another breath."

"Paul Newman, Milo O’Shea, and James Mason. I met Paul Newman a couple of times — he saw me in two of the three Broadway shows that I’ve done in New York. He came backstage and said how much he loved the shows, and I’ve just been a fan of his work forever. This [pick] was a toss up between this and Cool Hand Luke, another monster Paul Newman movie. There was something wonderful about his lost soul that he found in The Verdict. The [characters are] on opposite ends of the scale. Luke can’t be broken, apparently. He’s got that grin and that spirit. In The Verdict he’s already broken, he’s hanging on by a thread and hoping he can pull this out. Wonderful actor, underrated."

"Both films reinvent what movies can do. What Rosi and Kiarostami do with Miguelín and Sabzian is such higher-power filmmaking, so modern, so romantic, and so influential. I saw The Moment of Truth in the theater through one of Janus’s runs of restored films. I remember the feeling in my stomach, the horrific beauty and love affair Miguelín had with the bulls and life itself. I remember the devastation and the constant reminder that Miguelín was actually Miguelín. The triumph of both films rests in their cinematic qualities; of course, Rosi surpasses Close-up here in portraying the moments of truth in Techniscope. Close-up is an utter masterpiece, and I didn’t feel the need to even bother writing about it. Like God."

"Both films reinvent what movies can do. What Rosi and Kiarostami do with Miguelín and Sabzian is such higher-power filmmaking, so modern, so romantic, and so influential. I saw The Moment of Truth in the theater through one of Janus’s runs of restored films. I remember the feeling in my stomach, the horrific beauty and love affair Miguelín had with the bulls and life itself. I remember the devastation and the constant reminder that Miguelín was actually Miguelín. The triumph of both films rests in their cinematic qualities; of course, Rosi surpasses Close-up here in portraying the moments of truth in Techniscope. Close-up is an utter masterpiece, and I didn’t feel the need to even bother writing about it. Like God."

"I always say Agnès Varda was to the French New Wave as Eve is to the Ruff Ryders: a ride-or-die bitch, respected by a pack of tough gentlemen. The first film of hers I saw was Cléo from 5 to 7. My mom had just had a routine but unpleasant dental surgery and was all whacked out on pills, and I read all the subtitles to her in different voices. I was so impressed by how Varda manages to be both deeply emotional and utterly in control of the technical elements of filmmaking. That had seemed to me to be an impossible line to straddle, and she does it so beautifully. Watch The Beaches of Agnès next, a portrait of a rich life in film."

"I always say Agnès Varda was to the French New Wave as Eve is to the Ruff Ryders: a ride-or-die bitch, respected by a pack of tough gentlemen. The first film of hers I saw was Cléo from 5 to 7. My mom had just had a routine but unpleasant dental surgery and was all whacked out on pills, and I read all the subtitles to her in different voices. I was so impressed by how Varda manages to be both deeply emotional and utterly in control of the technical elements of filmmaking. That had seemed to me to be an impossible line to straddle, and she does it so beautifully. Watch The Beaches of Agnès next, a portrait of a rich life in film."

"I always say Agnès Varda was to the French New Wave as Eve is to the Ruff Ryders: a ride-or-die bitch, respected by a pack of tough gentlemen. The first film of hers I saw was Cléo from 5 to 7. My mom had just had a routine but unpleasant dental surgery and was all whacked out on pills, and I read all the subtitles to her in different voices. I was so impressed by how Varda manages to be both deeply emotional and utterly in control of the technical elements of filmmaking. That had seemed to me to be an impossible line to straddle, and she does it so beautifully. Watch The Beaches of Agnès next, a portrait of a rich life in film."

"I always say Agnès Varda was to the French New Wave as Eve is to the Ruff Ryders: a ride-or-die bitch, respected by a pack of tough gentlemen. The first film of hers I saw was Cléo from 5 to 7. My mom had just had a routine but unpleasant dental surgery and was all whacked out on pills, and I read all the subtitles to her in different voices. I was so impressed by how Varda manages to be both deeply emotional and utterly in control of the technical elements of filmmaking. That had seemed to me to be an impossible line to straddle, and she does it so beautifully. Watch The Beaches of Agnès next, a portrait of a rich life in film."