"Platoon, I think I was 15 or 16 when I saw that movie in the theater. I was so riveted by it, and the experience around it. I remember when I saw that movie, this is when there was still lines to get in the next one. The movie hadn’t come out yet, and we’re all standing in a line, 400 people to go in, and when the door opened, it was all these Vietnam Vets in their gear, grown men, crying and holding hands and arms around each other. When I sat down, I had no idea what I was about to see. Again, it was a deconstruction of the war film, the antithesis of John Wayne’s The Green Berets."

"I’ll never forget when I saw Jaws in the theater, the impact it had on me — so much that I wouldn’t swim in a swimming pool for the rest of the summer. [Laughs] And I enjoyed so much hearing later how Spielberg had had a hard time working with the shark, so they had decided to not show the shark, and instead use the music, you know. The way they did that was just incredible; the way they would shoot so that you’d see just the shark’s point of view instead of seeing the shark itself. It taught me, as a feature filmmaker, how important music is and involving all your senses and all that. So that’s my all-time favorite movie — Jaws."

"Sirk is actually a new filmmaker for me. I’ve been waiting to see one of his movies again in a theater—I sometimes do that when I feel like a filmmaker is going to be really important for me. I saw Imitation of Life for the first time two years ago, and it really blew my mind. Then I saw a print of All That Heaven Allows last year in Berlin. I’m very curious how Sirk’s films played when he was alive and what was talked about when they premiered, because they seem so revolutionary to me in many ways–the social issues, especially. And obviously the colors in his movies are huge. I don’t know enough about Sirk, but I want to."

"This might be the first movie that I saw. I remember watching it when I was five or six — I shouldn’t even have been watching it — and I saw it in a theater. I grew up in a small town and they had one of those small town theaters, and they put Westerns and whatnot onscreen. It’s one of those movies that made me think it would be very cool to work in movies. I don’t know if I understood the concept of being a director, but I understood the concept of someone making movies, and this movie did it for me. Other people say Star Wars or Indiana Jones. For me it was this one. That’s why I have an emotional reaction to it."

"One of my favorite films has always been Tootsie. I think I fell in love with New York and the romantic idea of being an actor from that movie. I saw it in a theater when I was really young and I don’t think I understood it all, but I remember people laughing so hard and I just knew I was watching a great movie. And all that stuff between Dustin Hoffman and Sydney Pollack is amazing. I revisit that movie a lot. I think, again it has that effect — it’s a very bittersweet movie, because it’s really funny but it also has those great sweet, honest moments. And it’s about a guy wearing a dress. I mean, it’s amazing that they pulled that movie off."

"Talk about a movie that holds up… this is the king. I remember the first time I saw this in Westwood when I was a kid. I’ve never heard an audience go that nuts before in a theater. This movie, probably more than any other, made me want to do comedies. It’s so grounded and faithful to the Boris Karloff version. That’s what makes it so great. Mel stayed within the boundaries of the original, and then pushed it an inch further for the laugh. That’s what he did with Get Smart [the TV show], too. He took the premise of James Bond and pushed it that same inch. It’s such a delicate balance… and one that he has mastered."

"I first saw this in Detroit— I was seventeen, it was 1975. We lit up our Colombian spliffs, along with everyone else in the theater, an all-smoking venue. I’d never listened to reggae before. I’d never seen a movie where the hero is last pictured in a rain of gunfire, still blasting his pistol, the immortal prince. I hid my eyes from many of the scenes of cruelty: the sadistic pastor assigned to “care” for our young Ivan, the vicious corruption of the record companies, dope kingpins and government goons—who seem to be one and the same. When Ivan punctuates his overdue revenge strokes with a knife with “Don’t. Fuck. With. Me!”—I wondered if I’d draw another breath."

"Both films reinvent what movies can do. What Rosi and Kiarostami do with Miguelín and Sabzian is such higher-power filmmaking, so modern, so romantic, and so influential. I saw The Moment of Truth in the theater through one of Janus’s runs of restored films. I remember the feeling in my stomach, the horrific beauty and love affair Miguelín had with the bulls and life itself. I remember the devastation and the constant reminder that Miguelín was actually Miguelín. The triumph of both films rests in their cinematic qualities; of course, Rosi surpasses Close-up here in portraying the moments of truth in Techniscope. Close-up is an utter masterpiece, and I didn’t feel the need to even bother writing about it. Like God."

"Both films reinvent what movies can do. What Rosi and Kiarostami do with Miguelín and Sabzian is such higher-power filmmaking, so modern, so romantic, and so influential. I saw The Moment of Truth in the theater through one of Janus’s runs of restored films. I remember the feeling in my stomach, the horrific beauty and love affair Miguelín had with the bulls and life itself. I remember the devastation and the constant reminder that Miguelín was actually Miguelín. The triumph of both films rests in their cinematic qualities; of course, Rosi surpasses Close-up here in portraying the moments of truth in Techniscope. Close-up is an utter masterpiece, and I didn’t feel the need to even bother writing about it. Like God."