"I discovered opera when I was about 13 with Verdi's Requiem . I started off a normal child and within two hours I became this opera queen. It was a religious conversion. Then after that, Maria Callas released La Divina 1 and La Divina 2, her greatest studio recordings from a particular period when I would say her voice wasn't quite at its zenith, but it was in this very interesting stage where it was matched with beauty and experience. So even though not all the notes were perfect you could definitely hear the angst and the pain and the passion that she had experienced in her career and life. I became enraptured by those records. They also had very iconic covers, that amazing photograph of her washed out against a black or white backdrop. It was also the kind of record that I could use to show others my point, and my passion, about opera. I could play it for a bunch of skinheads, heroin addicts, mods or punk rockers or whatever and they would physically freeze at the most dramatic points, because there's no way to deny her power at certain moments – whereas with a lot of opera it can be a hard sell. So they were my little secret weapons I could bring to my crazy underground parties and have a moment of respite from the horror of existence."

"I can’t believe how the genius of Sacha Guitry is misunderstood outside the borders of France. He is actually one of the most important figures in the history of French cinema, on a par with the greatest. I suspect he has this marginal status because when he started making films—the minute you could record sound—he was already a middle-aged ultra-recognized, ultra-successful figure of the stage. His style owes nothing to the silent era; he is the first French filmmaker, in a long line, who relies on language. But he was of course never content to simply record his own plays; he was obsessed with using the specificities of cinema to transcend them, and in doing so he pioneered a whole new language. Inspired by his wives—first Jacqueline Delubac, then Geneviève Guitry, then Lana Marconi, who most often had the lead—Guitry was the first French writer/director, and possibly the greatest. Désiré is a remarkable film. I wish Criterion would release Le comédien, a portrait of his father, the famous actor Lucien Guitry, and my personal favorite. Another misunderstood French director is Georges Franju, who’s mostly known for Eyes Without a Face but actually the author of a very consistent body of work, including Judex, a quietly disturbing poetic adaptation of Louis Feuillade’s serial."

"I can’t believe how the genius of Sacha Guitry is misunderstood outside the borders of France. He is actually one of the most important figures in the history of French cinema, on a par with the greatest. I suspect he has this marginal status because when he started making films—the minute you could record sound—he was already a middle-aged ultra-recognized, ultra-successful figure of the stage. His style owes nothing to the silent era; he is the first French filmmaker, in a long line, who relies on language. But he was of course never content to simply record his own plays; he was obsessed with using the specificities of cinema to transcend them, and in doing so he pioneered a whole new language. Inspired by his wives—first Jacqueline Delubac, then Geneviève Guitry, then Lana Marconi, who most often had the lead—Guitry was the first French writer/director, and possibly the greatest. Désiré is a remarkable film. I wish Criterion would release Le comédien, a portrait of his father, the famous actor Lucien Guitry, and my personal favorite. Another misunderstood French director is Georges Franju, who’s mostly known for Eyes Without a Face but actually the author of a very consistent body of work, including Judex, a quietly disturbing poetic adaptation of Louis Feuillade’s serial."