"As someone who’s really passionate about what he does, I have a lot of opinions about documentary films. A lot of documentary filmmakers don’t really think about their films cinematically, and some documentaries almost seem like they were just copy-and-pasted like Microsoft Word documents. I’ve always loved how Errol Morris takes a wrecking ball to those conventions. His films are constantly exploring the idea of what a documentary is. His films tweak and twist reality, and they don’t just try to serve the audience digested ideas on a platter. If I had to pick a favorite, it’s his transcendent 1988 classic The Thin Blue Line, which recounts a murder case and then riffs and re-riffs on it like a Bach fugue. It was the first film to really use re-creation and reeneactment scenes in a new and highly cinematic way, both to explore a case and to challenge a viewer’s own bias and subjectivity. Nowadays, its approach and editing style loom over every one of these multipart true crime series and podcasts. The Thin Blue Line is almost like the influential band that’s been ripped off so often that new converts may not realize just how significant it is."

"I saw this at Helsinki’s Love and Anarchy Film Festival with Mark Jenkin taking questions from the audience. From the very opening, I was transported to a completely different place even though we’re in contemporary Britain and I haven’t seen anything so singular from my home country in years. I had a sauna with Mark Jenkin the day after its Helsinki premiere and told him how jealous I was. It’s the kind of film I wish I had made. Its success is remarkable and it regally urinates on the perceived industry wisdom regarding so many things: nobody wants grainy black-and-white 16mm, nobody wants unknown actors and so on and so on. Congratulations not only to the truly visionary Mr. Jenkin, but also to the thousands of people adventurous enough to pay to see such a film. Both parties have hopefully made industry heads doubt their opinions. I recently got into an argument with a friend’s salsa partner who told me off for not being an audience-friendly director after he saw “In Fabric” since he regarded filmmaking as being on a par with customer service. I should’ve used “Bait” as a happy example of a film that finds its audience without pandering."

"This is going to sound ridiculous because it’s going to sound like I’m doing a bunch of ass-licking but Pulp Fiction. And I shouldn’t hesitate, because it’s good cinema, but… I remember watching Pulp Fiction — whatever age I was, teenage years somewhere — and really struck at the cleverness of it and loving that you can have something as violent, but as humorous and as… I could feel — you know, because I didn’t know him as a person at that point; he was just the director — but I could feel his brain working in the conversations in his head, and his opinions about stuff. The conversations that were like, “I’ve had conversations like that about why you call it a quarter pounder or a royale with cheese.” It was so clever and reachable by me. And I wasn’t a film buff, I wasn’t sort of like a fan about any of that stuff. It just really spoke to me, it was so clever. Then I went back and watched Reservoir Dogs. I think I’d seen it before but I went back and watched it again. But yes, Pulp Fiction was definitely… Actually, it’s cool that I get to say that; I’m happy to be able to say that."