"Another movie that I’ll maybe bring some attention to… not one of, but I think the strangest movie that I’ve ever been involved with, with the strangest character was a Terry Gilliam movie called Tideland. And this one is really great. We had a wonderful time making it. You know, these big-budgeted movies… Fisher King was a pretty big-budget movie and Terry kind of goes after these big-budget things that need a lot of money to pull off what he has in mind. But this one was very low-tech and not a giant budget movie. We shot it in Canada and I play a junkie rock star in it for some of the film, and for a lot of the film, I’m a carcass, you know, a dead body. It’s based on a great book with the same title by Mitch Cullin, and very, very surreal. I’d even stretch it and say it’s the weirdest movie that Terry has ever made, for my tastes (although everyone’s got different tastes). But it’s macabre."

"I think there’s something anarchic about it, which appealed to me as a kid, and appeals to me now. It’s Terry Gilliam, a phenomenal imagination, some brilliant performances. I think there’s something, obviously, very enticing and compelling about the story of a little boy swept up into a foreign land, having an extraordinary experience. I think that journey is kind of at the root of a lot of sci-fi narratives, and it’s easy to see the appeal. That kind of vicarious journey that you get to go on, but not actually experience, like the jaws of the dragon. It’s a thrill."

"Terry Gilliam grows up from his Python days and delivers a knockout, which (like the Orwell that clearly inspired it) was spot-on in predicting the future. Yes, it’s funny, but it’s mostly bleak, and it is Gilliam’s ultimate film. I love that this DVD set has the hack studio edit included (the “Love Conquers All” version that was sadly used for television, in which a happy ending is inserted, therefore changing the meaning of the film). Kind of reminds me of what the Bush administration has done to the media over the last eight years."

"When I first saw Brazil in the late ’80s, it hit me like a truck. It was such a powerful, bold vision, so joyous in its escapism and so crushing in its ultimate nihilism, that it left my teenage mind in tatters. I wasn’t quite sure what I’d watched but knew it was unlike anything I’d seen before. The impressive (and somewhat sad) fact is that, decades later, I still haven’t seen anything quite like Brazil. It escaped from Terry Gilliam’s brain with such velocity that its power even today is undeniable. I showed it at the New Beverly Cinema in Los Angeles in January of this year, and it still confounded me. I asked Terry Gilliam if he would write a quick intro for me to read out before the screening. This was it: Brazil was made by a bunch of young people who didn’t know any better. They are older and wiser now, but it seems America isn’t. It’s a pity that George W. and Dick Cheney aren’t still running the show. I was tempted to sue them for the illegal and unauthorized remake of Brazil. Just think . . . more people are living my movie than ever went to see it."

"When I was a kid, the ending of this movie, where Kevin’s parents touch pure evil and explode, scared the shit out of me. I know Brazil is technically the more mature of Terry Gilliam’s films, and yet this is the one I go back to again and again. I’ve watched it many, many times since then, and I still don’t understand how it works. Gilliam creates an entirely plausible alternate universe with its own unspoken internal rules. It’s nightmarish and yet taps into what every kid desires/fears . . . the need for life beyond the yoke of one’s family. That last moment—which I’m sure was just a goofy set joke—was my first taste of existentialism. It freaked me out. I still don’t cerebrally understand why that moment ends the film. And yet it somehow works. I have yet to introduce this film to my daughter. Not sure when/if I will."

"I’ve seen Koyaanisqatsi more than any other movie. For years, I would just put play the disc on repeat the way some people might play their favorite record. But more importantly, Koyaanisqatsi has had a profound effect on me as a filmmaker and editor. It’s not so much the obvious stuff (i.e. the time lapse cinematography, editing to music, etc.) but rather this age-old notion that an audience can experience a story just through imagery. Audiences are smart—give them some guideposts, throw out some complex ideas, and they will do the rest. Koyaanisqatsi serves as a constant reminder that film is a visual medium where explanation (and even plot) can sometimes be intrusive, and the most powerful statement a film can make is the one that the audience arrives at. The Koyaanisqatsi supplements are also really instructive. There are a couple candid doc pieces with the director, Godfrey Reggio. At one point, he says he explored having Allen Ginsberg recite poetry throughout the film. At another point, he talks about filming surreal Terry Gilliam–like scenes (at an enormous budget) that he ultimately decided to cut out. It reinforces the idea that with filmmaking, just like in life, sometimes you have to go through a lot of bad mistakes to discover what really works."