Whether it's a guy living in an airport like Viktor Navorski in The Terminal, or Anvil in Toronto, or Alfred Hitchcock who's imprisoned by his success; there is a common thread to all these characters. I don't know why I'm particularly drawn to it. It's been pointed out to me, and I don't understand it myself.

I think Alma Reville was the only one Alfred Hitchcock trusted. When it came to issues of taste or what the audience wanted, down to editing, script and casting, he would turn to her first. She was his partner.

Of course, when you're doing something that's unexpected, people are going to have a very specific point of view about it, but I think it's all good to have a healthy debate about who Hitchcock was and what that means to people. He means a lot of different things to a lot of different people because the films are so great. If the movies were not great, no one would be bothering to show any interest.

When you take on Hitchcock you know it's gonna provoke some sort of controversy, because there were so many people talking about the book [Stephen Rebello's Alfred Hitchcock and the Making of Psycho] and wanting it to be the film about the making of this movie [Psycho]. But that's been done. That's been done in the book, and Stephen Rebello himself was like, "I want a movie which is an entertainment for the audience." So we made the conscious decision.

Being English definitely gave me some insight into these eccentric Brits puttering around Hollywood.

The good thing about the Anvil school of filmmaking was that it was fly by the seat of your pants. There was no safety net.

I love the idea of creative collaboration. I love the idea of exploring marriages, particularly ones that are in process for a long time.