Realism is a bad word. In a sense everything is realistic. I see no line between the imaginary and the real.

The public has lost the habit of movie-going because the cinema no longer possesses the charm, the hypnotic charisma, the authority it once commanded. The image it once held for us all — that of a dream we dreamt with our eyes open — has disappeared. Is it still possible that one thousand people might group together in the dark and experience the dream that a single individual has directed?

I never make moral judgments; I'm not qualified to do so. I am not a censor, a priest, or a politician.

As a writer and director, I want to know what is behind the good manners and soft voice. Who is inside the silhouette?

Life is a combination of magic and pasta.

If there were a little more silence, if we all kept quiet...maybe we could understand something.

I claim the right to contradict myself. I don't want to deprive myself of the right to talk nonsense, and I ask humbly to be allowed to be wrong sometimes.