There's a theory of accidents that I studied when I was making a film about nuclear weapons: you can never eliminate accidents, because the measures you introduce to prevent accidents actually produce more accidents. That's certainly true of this sport; you're flying over 40 feet of what might look like snow, but it's hard as ice, it's as hard as pavement. You're doing acrobatic spins and tricks, 40 feet above pavement, essentially. There's been more accidents since, and there are going to continue to be more accidents, that's the nature of the sport.

I find titles the hardest thing. I was worried that 'Waste Land' was too much of a downer. For me, 'The Crash Reel' confronts what the film is about: it's not just about the reality of a crash, it's about the extremity we all face, and what happens when life crashes on you.

I love my work, apart from when it's driving me crazy. But I get to be interested in stuff and think like a filmmaker as I'm buzzing about the world and then see an opportunity to make a film, and then make it happen.

I don't believe in objectivity. I observe the observer's paradox every moment I'm filming. Your presence is changing everything; there's no mistaking it. And you have a responsibility.

My main trick is to work with amazing people. It's a long and twisty journey and you need people that really are amazing and have this rare gift of honesty and courage and really open up.

The world needs more women filmmakers, so we have to keep encouraging ourselves and one another, and eventually things must get easier for us.

Why is nobody questioning the sanity or suicidal tendencies of Everest ascenders? It's kind of a question of framing: How do you frame these activities? We frame them as freedom-loving, exciting, progressing sports and they are. But there are other ways to frame it. It's also true that these young men, neurologists say that their frontal lobes aren't developed yet - the long-term planning part of the brain.