"I’ve always been a fan of Miguel. I remember listening to Kaleidoscope Dream in a hotel room in New York; there’s this real sexy, urbane quality to that album. His next record, Wildheart, has a real lo-fi sultriness—there’s this weird disparity between those two things, because people think of sultry as being writ-large, with this polished quality, but when you give it this bedroom-recording quality, it adds a sensitivity and a vulnerability that Miguel just has in spades. I love the way he spells out the titles of his songs in lowercase, too. He has a way of being sweetly diminutive and then larger than life. “Told You So,” from his new album, War & Leisure, really grabbed me right away. I first heard it when I was in my bedroom getting ready to go out, which is really important music listening for me. It always feels like a motivational soundtrack and returns me to my teenage self: creating an imagined narrative that usually never comes to fruition. I always think the getting-ready part somehow supersedes the experience itself. It’s better than the party. Even when I’m alone, when I’m still in the realm of fantasy of what the night could be, it’s always better than what the night is. And I’m definitely just talking about going out to very pedestrian events—it’s not like I’m going out to some wild dance party. But music has always accompanied those moments of trying on different clothes, looking at myself in front of the mirror, trying to do something even remotely reasonable with makeup—it always feels aspirational, and buoying. That was the first time I heard “Told You So.” I really thought, “This will be my going-out song for the next six months.” And it has been."

"I’d like to pick Red Corner, because Bai Ling’s in it. [Laughs] Actually, I choose it because out of all the movies that have Asian leading characters, it’s the first to have the most feminine — the most brilliant, modern, intelligent, female character ever in a Hollywood film that portrayed Asian characters. In all other films, it’s a mystery, romance, or kung fu; but here, I played a lawyer, a contemporary woman. And she has a romance with this sex symbol — Richard Gere. That combination is really rare on the silver screen, in Hollywood. I play a lawyer and I fall in love; I’m under a Communist government and helping a foreign man. There’s also a lot of unspoken love underneath. I would sacrifice my life for him. She gives on many, many levels; she’s not only tough and sexy, but there’s intelligence behind it, and a total giving of unconditional love for this man for whom she would die and do anything for. There’s a beauty to her giving up everything for a man whom she’s helping while she’s under danger and pressure from the government — choosing between a country’s love, and being in danger of being destroyed and never seeing this lover that she would do anything for. It’s extremely beautiful and romantic to my heart and my soul, and I have a fantastic and beautiful relationship with my co-star, Richard Gere. So that’s one of my favorite movies forever, because I’m so close to it. These two [characters] are giving their lives to each other, and that love must remain hidden on the surface of the court system; the modern world is harsh. I like that under the harshness there’s a romance, and that romance is so free and so true."

"This is a movie about showbiz, musicals, death, Bob Fosse, his love life: it’s all over the map. I can’t tell you what it’s about, but I love it. It’s so sexy. The first ten minutes are a feat of editing and music. One of the great openings of a musical. “It’s showtime,” says Roy Scheider as Joe Gideon, a thinly veiled portrait of Fosse himself. Little echoes of Joel Grey singing “Willkommen” in Cabaret. Gideon is our master of ceremonies, warning us to get ready to see some blood, sweat, and tears. I love movie musicals about showbiz—The Band Wagon, A Star Is Born, Singin’ in the Rain—and this really fits in that genre, with the dark edge of The Bad and the Beautiful. That should have been a musical directed by Fosse! Fosse as a choreographer turned director reminds me of another director I love, Stanley Donen. Aside from dance and music, their movies have another thing in common: incredible editing. All That Jazz and Lenny both play around with time in a way the Donen film Two for the Road does. A lot has been written about Fosse and his love of Fellini films. All That Jazz does borrow from 8½, but this is not an homage. Fosse, inspired by Fellini, created something new. It’s a tragedy that Fosse didn’t live longer, because in his five films—Sweet Charity, Cabaret, Lenny, All That Jazz, and Star 80—I see what could have been one of the great filmmakers of all time. Imagine Bob Fosse directing Chicago! All That Jazz is the beginning of that journey. It’s as if all his gifts—the love of dance and the inspiration from Jerome Robbins and Jack Cole; the personal and profound collaboration with his partner, Gwen Verdon; and the man himself—were coming into focus."