"""Let’s go to Pinocchio, Disney’s Pinocchio. That was a truly, utterly magical movie. The world was so beautifully detailed and so fantastical, and yet believable at every point. I love that movie. It’s really stuck with me, because it was at a level of craftsmanship that was so unbelievably high, and it’s maintained that position in my head for all the years. Great songs, great everything. Great characters. I don’t know what else one can say about it. It’s just a great story. I think the first film I saw was probably Snow White. That’s the advantage of being old. You get these films when you’re at the right age. But those two in particular really, really stuck with me because I just hadn’t seen anything so beautifully crafted. The great thing, it made me a big fan. It took me years to discover that Cliff Edwards was the voice of Jiminy Cricket. I always loved “When You Wish Upon a Star,” and he was singing that. Now I’m a great fan of Cliff Edwards. His music is brilliant, but most people have forgotten him. I just think he was known as a singer, and he played the ukulele. He just ended up with a wonderful voice. I think his voice was also used in one of the other Disney films, which I can’t remember. But it was his singing that is just right. I think that’s Pinocchio. I saw Pinocchio maybe 20 years ago again, and what amazed me about it is how, as a child, I remembered this vast universe, huge world. In fact, it’s tiny. You go from Geppetto’s workshop and the little village to the bad boys’ island just like that. Bing. It’s so tight the way that they do it. The next thing, you’re in Monstro’s belly. It’s a great one to watch just to see how succinct you can be and still create a universe. It’s a lesson I’ve never learned, the succinct part."""

"Well, I think one thing is I love seeing the 15th century in black and white, in the 20th century. The physical imagery… that scene in the balloon at the beginning of the movie, the way that it’s cut together and the way that it functions and what he’s looking at. The sound, the music. Tarkovsky is one of my favorite directors and I think there’s just a great abstract quality in his films, where you see something and, as you’re looking at it, it transforms in front of your eyes. Things happen that you can’t believe you’re looking at — a horse falling down a flight of stairs; all of a sudden there’s a moment where you’ve got Christ, in the snow, carrying his cross up a hill. The kind of subliminal violence that occurs — when this guy gouges the eyes out of one of those journeymen, artisans that are leaving the reconstruction of a church; the apathy in the violence reminds me of the W.H. Auden poem, “Musee des Beaux Arts.” The old masters, they really knew about human suffering. And I guess in that particular film, what I’m thinking about is the length of the takes, and the surprise of what you actually see being filmed. The way slow motion is used in that movie also; the way that movies are not like that anymore. The scale and the depth of field of what you’re seeing is vast. So there’s a poetic quality to that. I’d have to mention The Passenger also, because there’s a moment when Antonioni has Jack Nicholson sticking his arms outside of a cable car, and for that moment you just have this sense of observing observation — that’s a big part of moviemaking to me, or painting. That kind of filmmaking, where the camera is still but everything around it is moving, and moving at different speeds, is something that I’m attracted to."