I have not seen a film as powerful, surreal, and frightening in at least a decade unprecedented in the history of cinema.

I know whenever it comes to be really dysfunctional and vile and base and hostile on screen, I'm good at that.

You should bear in mind that almost all my documentaries are feature films in disguise.

Sometimes bad luck hits you like in an ancient Greek tragedy, and it's not your own making. When you have a plane crash, it's not your fault.

Meanwhile it's got stormy, the tattered fog even thicker, chasing across my path. Three people are sitting in a glassy tourist cafe between clouds and clouds, protected by glass from all sides. Since I don't see any waiters, it crosses my mind that corpses have been sitting there for weeks, statuesque. All this time the cafe has been unattended, for sure. Just how long have they been sitting here, petrified like this?

I think psychology and self-reflection is one of the major catastrophes of the twentieth century.

In private I'm not. You will have to ask my wife. She maintains I'm a fluffy husband.