"Algren" - Chicago International Film Festival

"You must love a city's alleys... also its stray cats." - Nelson Algren



How appropriate that the Chicago International Film Festival, which begins its 50th year on October 9, is premiering the documentary Algren, about one this city's most insightful and decorated writers, at this year's fest. Engaging, edgy and filled with wonderfully entertaining stories about the writer, it's a beautiful, heartfelt tribute to the life and times of a truly unique individual.

To most Americans who knew his name, Nelson Algren was the author of the 1949 novel The Man With the Golden Arm, a frank novel about drugs in the inner city neighborhoods of Chicago. Yet the author had been chronicling the back alleys and dimly lit streets, what he called "the other side of the billboards" for many years before that. Beginning with The Neon Wilderness, a collection of short stories about whores, dope fiends and crooked cops, published in the mid 1930s, Algren became somewhat of a bard of the streets. He identified with these people and celebrated their lives for the next 30 years.

In the documentary, various friends recall Algren's personality and actions during his years in Chicago. Such luminaries as film directors William Friedkin, John Sayles and Philip Kaufman as well as writers such as Bruce Jay Friedman, Denise de Clue and even musician Billy Corgan discuss their thoughts about Algren, his influence and the Chicago neighborhoods that he featured in his prose. Much is made of his lack of skill at poker; Friedkin reminiscing that he really shouldn't have held those poker games in his apartment, as he lost too much money.

Director Michael Caplan, while giving us the usual talking heads that are seemingly part of every documentary/biography these days, has the good sense not to film these interviews in a static fashion, opting instead to place these individuals in front of text from Algren or in most cases, a vivid black and white photograph of the neighborhood's souls and passageways, taken by Art Shay, who also appears at a few moments in the film, discussing Algren's life.

Another important part of this documentary is the dissection of Algren's relationship with the famed French author Simone de Beauvior. Before she wrote her most famous book entitled The Second Sex in 1949, she was best known for being the companion and lover of French existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre. But one day in 1947, she flew to Chicago and was introduced to Algren; soon the two were lovers and had a relationship that lasted for four years. The breakup was sudden and unexpected and it shattered Algren, according to the individuals who talk about it in the film. "I knew that she loved him," says one of the interviewees, "because she laughed at every joke Nelson told, even though she couldn't understand them."

Algren would leave the city in 1970, as he felt he no longer needed Chicago and that Chicago no longer needed him. The film follows his last few years on the East Coast, as the writer finally found some meaning he had been missing in his life for many years, when he joined a writer's colony in Sag Harbor, Long Island in 1980, shortly before his death. Director Caplan clearly notes the sadness of Algren's departure from Chicago; this is one of the best sequences in the film.

The combination of stories and vivid Art Shay photos help move this film along effortlessly and help us get a great understanding of the thought process of Algren. Serious writer, socially conscious and also a bit of a clown with his small group of friends, Nelson Algren was a lover of life who embraced the back avenues of Chicago like no other author before or since.

Although I never met the man, after watching Algren, I feel like I know a great deal about him, so high praise for the work done by director Caplan and his team. Now I think I'll go read one of his books (after the film festival concludes, of course!)


Note: As the various individuals are seen on screen talking about Algren, they are identified as to their name and profession. However, William Friedkin, who appears three or four times, is never named. Friedkin is certainly a famous film director and has a distinctive voice, but there will be many who view this film who will not know that he is talking. Let's hope that the filmmakers catch this oversight and correct it.


Algren - Directed by Michael Caplan - 87 minutes

The film will be shown at the Chicago International Film Festival on these dates and times:

October 14 - 6:00 PM
October 20 - 12:15 PM
October 21 - 8:00 PM

The theater will be the AMC River East 21 at 322 E. Illinois Street

Chicago International Film Festival 50! - a Preview

The Look of Silence

The 50th Chicago International Film Festival will begin soon - who would have thought back in the 1960s that this event would have a 50th birthday celebration? But here we are, with opening night on October 9, featuring the premiere of Miss Julie, the latest film from Liv Ullman.

As this is the 50th festival, the organizers have put together an excellent array of films as always, but to honor this milestone, they have lined up an all-star collection of talent who will appear. Directors such as Oliver Stone, Taylor Hackford, Bob Rafelson and Ullmann will be in town for various events (Stone will appear at the screening of his director's cut of Natural Born Killers and Alexander: Ultimate Edition, both on October 12).

Among the films I'm most looking forward to is The Look of Silence, directed by Joshua Oppenheimer. The director, who gave us the mesmerizing documentary The Act of Killing, which told the story of a few of the individuals who masterminded the government-sanctioned killings in Indonesia in the 1960s, has now made his followup to that film. This opus is about the brother of a victim who is still troubled by these events so much that he confronts one of the killers who bragged about his actions in that first film. I can't wait to see what Oppenheimer brings us with this work.

The Imitation Game, which won the People's Choice Award at this year's Toronto International Film Festival, is a story of justice denied. Directed by Morton Tyldum and starring Benedict Cumberbatch, the film details the true story of Alan Turing, a brilliant British mathematician who was a member of the team that broke the German Enigma code that helped turn the tide in World War ll. His work was celebrated, but a few years after the war, he was prosecuted for committing homosexual acts. Given Cumberbatch's marvelous screen acting these past few years, I'm very interested to see this work.

Magician: The Astonishing Life and Work of Orson Welles, directed by Chuck Workman, is a documentary about the genius filmmaker, who turned Hollywood on its head in the 1940s and '50s. The film traces his life from his childhood and includes thoughts on Welles from such cinematic luminaries as Martin Scorsese, Steven Spielberg and Peter Bogdonavich. For years, Workman made short films that were shown at the beginning of the Academy Awards telecasts; these shorts were beautifully made, displaying a love for the cinema that too often was missing during those broadcasts. I can't wait to see how Workman approaches the life of Orson Welles.

Another documentary I am looking forward to is Algren, about famed Chicago author Nelson Algren. Directed by Michael Caplan, the film incorporates interviews with artists inspired by his work; there are also many Art Shay photographs from the 1950s and '60s.

Of course, as this is the Chicago International Film Festival, there will be a good deal of local talent on display, including numerous short films created by Chicago film students. One of the feature films that will premiere is St. Vincent, directed by Ted Melfi and starring Illinois natives Bill Murray and Melissa McCarthy.

Finally, there will also be several classic older films that will be screened - some famous, others not so well-known. Why Be Good? is a 1927 film starring top box office draw Colleen Moore; here is your chance to see this film that was thought lost. Also showing at the fest will be Jamaica Inn (1939), one of Alfred Hitchcock's least known works; this starring Charles Laughton and Maureen O'Hara. Hitchcock expert John Russell Taylor will appear at this screening and will also appear at a special showing of the 1954 George Cukor classic A Star is Born, which has been restored to its original length and digitally remastered.

I can't wait for the festival to begin, as I know there are many films I want to see. Judging from the entire list of films (click here), there should be something special for every film lover! Congratulations to founder and artistic director Michael Kutza for five decades of tireless promotion of cinema in Chicago!

Inner Strength

John Steinbeck once wrote, "I find out of long experience that I admire all nations and hate all governments." After viewing writer/director's John Michael McDonagh's latest film Calvary, you would imagine that the author of this work would change this statement to "I find I hate religion, but I admire the people that serve their life for its spiritual riches."

This is to state the obvious about this film - McDonagh is highly critical of the Church in contemporary Ireland and poses the belief that it has lost its influence on the masses. The opening scene in which a local man tells Father Lavelle (Brendan Gleeson) in the confessional that he was sexually abused by a priest when he was a young man is primary evidence of McDonogh's feelings about the hypocrisy of Church doctrine.

If McDonagh wanted to, he could have made this a hateful film about this sorry episode of this man's youth (as well as the shame it brought the Church and its followers), but the author is too wise to let it go at that. McDonagh makes this a story about the priest and how he deals with his flock, a group that respects the man, but not his office.

As the opening scene concludes, the parishoner (we do not see his face and only learn of his identity very late in the film) tells Father Lavelle that he will kill him. As the priest who abused him died years earlier, he believes that someone must be punished for these sins, so he chooses Lavelle as his target; he loves the irony of killing an innocent man.

Lavelle is told by the man that he will murder him in one week, which will allow the priest to put his life in order before then. This straightening out of his life for these next seven days is what this film is all about, as Father Lavelle encounters several locals and learns of their sordid lives and lack of respect for the Church.

During these few days, his daughter Fiona (Kelly Reilly, in an excellent, sensitive performance) comes back to visit (before he became a priest, Lavelle was married). She displays the bandages on her wrists, the result of a failed suicide. She needs her father now more than ever and he is there for her, even with a death threat hanging over his head.

Throughout the film, Lavelle has brief meeting with the locals; some of the encounters are more troubling than others, but all of them are serious. One of the most fascinating is with a wealthy man named Michael Fitzgerald (Dylan Moran, pictured above), who lives in a well-appointed mansion in the country. He is a cynic with a flippant attitude about life; everyone in his immediate family has left him, his wife and children, even the maid. While other locals mock Father Lavelle for his religious beliefs and realize there is little he can do about their sins, this character is a rich man who is soulless; this subplot is McDonogh's commentary on recent Irish history, as bankers helped ruin the local economy, while gaining monetary wealth on their own. 

Moran is superb, bringing an undeniable charm to his role; he's a louse, but given Moran's style, you almost feel sorry for him. Indeed near the end of the film, he confesses to Father Lavelle that he has a real problem and he'd like to meet with the priest. The people of Ireland, McDonagh seems to say, are adrift and have little meaning in their lives, even those who do have a bit of money.

All of this is presented amidst the spectacularly beautiful coast of County Sligo; this is a rugged land of craggy hills and rock-strewn seasides. No doubt director of photography Larry Smith will receive kudos for these shots, but his work on the entire film deserves praise. The harsh lighting of a prison, the deep primal hues of a pub and the dark blues of the inside of a church are all memorable images that Smith handles with equal aplomb. Smith was also the director of photography on McDonagh's previous film The Guard (also starring Gleeson); he knows how to bring across the message of the director's outlook in visual terms; Smith is a lensman worth remembering.

Earlier I mentioned the quality performances of Reilly and Moran; indeed the entire cast is first-rate (a tip of the cap here to McDonagh's work with his actors as well as to casting director Jina Jay). Especially memorable are Aiden Gillen (pictured above), a doctor who revels in telling Father Lavelle about the grisly details of his work; Orla O'Rourke, a married woman who flaunts her infidelities to Lavelle and David Wilmot, who portrays Father Leary, a timid soul who is no match for the flamboyance of Father Lavelle.

It is Gleeson, of course, who must carry the burden of this film, both literally and figuratively and he turns in a remarkable performance. He must be a pillar of strength, dealing with the problems of the others that inhabit his world, all the while dealing with past demons; he confesses to having loved alcohol "too much" in previous times and that history will come back to haunt him in a critical scene in the film. Gleeson is a large man - I would guess he must be at least 250 pounds, so he physically towers above everyone else in this work, but he is able to find subtle irony and humor in his everyday doings; one can imagine that he couldn't survive unless he did. He's especially moving in two scenes with troubled women: one with a visitor whose husband was killed in an accident and the other in a lovely scene - one of the few "normal" encounters in this work - during a seaside walk with his daughter. The film works on many levels, but it couldn't be believed without Gleeson's dynamic turn.

While there are a few moments of droll humor, this is basically a troubling film of souls who wander about without any real meaning in their lives. But this is a hopeful film at heart; near the end of the story, Father Lavelle says, "I think forgiveness has been highly underrated." Forgiveness, McDonagh seems to be saying, is our only salvation in this life.

Lauren Bacall

Lauren Bacall left us a few days ago; as one of my friends on Facebook wrote,"They don't make them like her any longer." True, how true.

She will forever be linked with Humphrey Bogart and while that's part of the aura that surrounded her, Bacall was a spark plug on her own, although she never sought out publicity, like too many of today's stars. "Stardom isn't a profession, it's an accident," she once said and she meant it. She was a fine actress, but you had to think she would have been a terrific school teacher, nurse, accountant or whatever profession she selected - and she would have been very happy with her decision and her lot in life.

I've read accounts of how she never left the house when Bogie was in his final few weeks. He was quite ill and had very little to look forward to, but there was Bacall, treating his every need. Maybe that's not such a big deal, as most spouses would take care of their loved ones. But for Lauren Bacall, it was about having her priorities in order. "I put my career in second place throughout both of my marriages and it suffered. I don't regret it. You make choices. If you want a good marriage, you need to pay attention to that. If you want to be independent, go ahead. You can't have it all." How wonderful an attitude and how different from some of today's leading ladies who have been divorced numerous times.

I think what I loved most about her what that mysterious quality. She wasn't the sex symbol that a Rita Hayworth or Betty Grable was, but she was more. That deep voice of hers was really something and I loved the slightly distant nature she maintained in her most famous performances with Bogart in To Have and Have Not and The Big Sleep. If Bogie was going to have her in those films, he had to earn it. Her beauty was earthy and sophisticated and always subdued. She had a lot more to offer than what met the eye.

She acted in too few films, especially after Bogart died, but maybe that's only my opinion, me a film lover. I'm sure for Bacall, she opted for just the proper number of films and stage appearances (she won Tony awards for her roles in Applause in 1970 and Woman of the Year in 1981). "I figure if I have my health, can pay the rent and I have my friends, I call it 'content'" she once said. How many stars have been so humble?



Several years ago at a dinner, some friends and I were discussing celebrities and when one particular actor's name was mentioned, one of our group said, "Now there was a man's man." The person next to him said, "I wonder if there's such a thing as a 'woman's woman'? Maybe Betty Bacall?"

Betty Joan Perske, R.I.P.

N.Y.P.D. 1968

Two films from 1968 - Madigan, directed by Don Siegel and The Detective, directed by Gordon Douglas - are Hollywood offerings that paint a city in decay, one in which the police department must mete out their special kind of justice. Their work is difficult, both mentally and morally and if they aren't exactly on the up and up, well, that's a by-product of living among the filth.

Today and for the past decade or so, New York City has enjoyed a positive public relations message - the city is vibrant, dynamic and beautiful. We know this wasn't always the case. Having never lived in New York City, I'm not someone who can tell anyone about the situation of the Big Apple back in the 1960s. My opinion was formed by newspaper articles, television reports and yes, films of that day. It wasn't a pretty picture.

Now of course, these films were meant to entertain, so the bad guys aren't just criminals, they're rather warped. In fact, most of the city dwellers in these films are a bit off kilter. Madigan tells a lieutenant that the criminal he is after "has peculiar sexual habits, to put it mildly." "Well so has half the population," notes the lieutenant. Speaking about a teenage girl who's a drug addict, Detective Joe Leland (Frank Sinatra) in The Detective tells his superior, "The whole town is crawling with kids just like her. Same age, all going the same route. Part of the great society."

Naturally these kids that Leland refers to aren't growing up in a paradise. Both films depict urban decay with streets cluttered with dingy tenement buildings, the insides of which are dominated by tiny apartments and dimly lit corridors. The police headquarters aren't much better; the offices are highlighted by dull green walls, often with peeling paint, while the oak desks and drab filing cabinets add little to brighten the atmosphere.

Interestingly, the rare instances of handsome living and working quarters are places where the ordinary city dweller is not seen. The opening sequence of The Detective happens in a posh apartment, complete with numerous art treasures, of a homosexual who has been beaten to death. In Madigan, the look of the police commissioner's office with its plush carpeting and expensive wood paneling is in stark contrast to the depressing nature of the working environment of the detectives.

But much in the way that the upscale apartment in The Detective is the scene of a variant lifestyle - and a brutal murder - so too the office of commissioner Anthony Russell (Henry Fonda) in Madigan is often the site for conduct unbecoming. Investigations of wire taps and slush funds are discussed here, away from the detectives. The deals that are made here, many of which are not by the book, are further signs of how the police do their job in the big city.

Is it any wonder then that the personal lives of these officers are screwed up? In The Detective, Leland meets Karen (Lee Remick), a beautiful woman who is at home at the theater as she is at a football game. Initially, their relationship is something out of a fairy tale, but it soon disintregates, as Karen starts to see other men. Likewise in Madigan, the title character has less than a storybook relationship, as he rarely sees his wife Julia (Inger Stevens), who endlessly complains about this to her husband. Later in the film, she herself will become passionate with one of her husband's colleagues as he's off chasing a criminal. Even commissioner Russell is not the upscale citizen he seems; he is carrying on an affair with a married woman.

Time spent at home for the policemen is very brief, as generally, it's to have a cocktail, sex or a nap (rarely do they have time to get several hours of sleep). In Madigan, there is one brief scene where we view Madigan and his partner Rocco Bonaro (Harry Guardino) use the cots installed in a small room upstairs from their offices. The police are constantly on edge here, as there is a new crime every day, so rest from their daily chores must be brief. Not surprisingly, the one good night's sleep that Madigan gets in this film is at the apartment of a lounge singer he accompanies home. Although he doesn't have sex with her, no doubt his sleep is peaceful, as he doesn't have to argue with his wife, at least for one evening.

Given this restless lifestyle, the detectives have little patience for the varied criminals they encounter. During a scene in a bar, Madigan accuses a man who looks like the criminal his partner and he are after. He looks a bit like him, but when Madigan realizes his mistake, he apologizes. The man is outraged and shouts at the detective, who immediately thrusts the man back into his seat. Watching this, you have to imagine that lack of sleep or not, Madigan has done something similar countless times. No one winds up getting hurt - except for their sense of pride - so in the end, Madigan and his colleagues can do what they want.

In The Detective, Leland does have the moral standards to question some of the police behavior, as in a scene where he tells another detective who is pushing around a suspect who is a homosexual to take it easy, saying, "these people are not murderers." In another scene, Leland tells a fellow detective to stop his interrogation of a suspect who has been forced to remove his clothes at the police department. "You son of a bitch. What kind of department do you think we're running here?" His attitude is at odds with his fellow lawmen, giving him the identity of a loner. Solving three homicides in one week, as is detailed in this story, may earn him a promotion, but his sense of trying to do the right thing drives a wedge between his colleagues and him.

At the end of The Detective, Leland has quit the police force, stating to his captain that "there are things worth fighting for and I can't fight them here." The last scene of Madigan has commissioner Russell and chief inspector Charles Kane (James Whitmore) discussing tomorrow's problems just minutes after the death of one of their detectives. Two conclusions that are different, but in reality, the message is the same - individuals will come and go through the ranks of the police department, but the questionable code that defines this body will remain intact. "If you bust me," Detective Curran (Ralph Meeker) tells Leland, "you'll have to bust half the department for being on the take." In this urban jungle that was New York City in 1968, the beat goes on.

An Early Capra Success

Before Frank Capra enjoyed great critical and popular acclaim with such films as It Happened One Night (1934), You Can't Take it With You (1938) and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939), he had directed more than twenty feature films of various subject matter, from documentary-like studies to romances to comedies. One of his best early films, one of three he directed in 1931, was The Miracle Woman, starring one of his favorites leading ladies, Barbara Stanwyck.

With a screenplay by Jo Swerling (he would later write some additional dialogue for Capra's 1946 classic It's a Wonderful Life), adapted from the play "Bless You Sister" written by John Meehan, the film is about a female evangelist, loosely based on Aimee Semple McPherson, the famed celebrity preacher of the 1920s and '30s.

As the film opens, the title character, named Florence Fallon (portrayed with typical gusto by Stanwyck), steps up to the pulpit to deliver her minister father's last sermon before an overflow crowd at church. Her father has been ill for some time and is too weak to deliver his message of love and understanding.

However, Fallon has sad news to tell the church goers - her father passed away in her arms just a few minutes earlier. She then turns on them assembled, telling them they did not take the advice of her father - or God - and lead Christian lives. In a scene that most assuredly inspired John Huston and Tennessee Williams for the opening of their film The Night of the Iguana (1964), Fallon calls out the worshipers, threatening to name the adulterers among the group. The flock rush out of the church, stunned at what they are hearing.

A shady businessman named Bob Hornsby (Sam Hardy) approaches Fallon after this, telling her that with her knowledge of the Bible, she can have a career as a preacher, "as there is money in religion." Alone and uncertain of her future, Fallon agrees to work for him; soon she is preaching her sermons on nationwide radio.

We then meet the other main character in this story, a young blind man named John Carson (David Manners), who lost his sight in the war. He has now turned to writing music, but despondent over being rejected time and time again, he decides to commit suicide. Capra nicely depicts this scene, as when he opens his window to jump out, he hears a radio broadcast of Fallon, speaking about how man has a backbone and can make his own decisions, unlike the simplest creatures. Carson is inspired by this message and decides not to end his life.

Carson knows he must meet this woman who saved his life, so he attends one of her revival meetings. Fallon at one point walks into a cage filled with lions and asks the congregation if one of them will show their faith and enter in the cage with her. Carson is the one individual who does so; Fallon, who has never seen this man before, is impressed, especially as he is blind, yet she thinks nothing more than that, as she believes this will be the only encounter between them.

Thus the two main characters are brought together; both need someone in their lives, so they turn to each other. Fallon is especially touched when she learns that Carson chose not to end his life because of her words; knowing this, she starts to doubt herself, as she feels guilty about misleading the public who view her "miracles" on cripples, who in reality are nothing more than a trained band of actors hired by Hornsby.

Carson and Fallon start to see each other more often; during one scene in his apartment, he shows her his dummy named Al. Carson is a fine ventriloquist with a very funny act and Fallon loves his routine, which only endears him more to her. I love this interplay in the film, not only for its lighthearted nature, but also the deeper message of a man who cannot see needing an alter ego to talk for him. This is also a nice counterpart to the theme of a woman who speaks to the masses, yet in reality, talks to no one.

This leads to a lovely scene later in the film at Carson's apartment when he wants to profess his love for Fallon. He tells her that Al has something to say to her. But just after Al starts to speak Carson's heartfelt words, he stops. Fallon gets up from the table and Carson follows her; this is done in total silence, with no music and with a static camera. Capra filmed this as simply as he could, so the emotions when they embrace are devastatingly emotional. It's one of the most tender moments realized in any Capra film.

The film ends with a crowd scene that would be repeated to some degree in Capra's 1941 film Meet John Doe (interestingly enough, that film also deals with an individual who must pass himself off as someone he's not and starts to doubt his purpose in life). The truth and decency of humanity so often communicated in Capra's work are once again the redeeming qualities of the two main characters in this story. As the film ends, Fallon does not enjoy the fame she embraced for a short time, but she has done the proper thing and has found true happiness and redemption.

Directors on their Craft

"I am a typed director. If I made Cinderella, the audience would immediately be looking for a body in the coach." - Alfred Hitchcock



"There was always part of me that wanted to be an old-time director. But I couldn't do that. I'm not a pro." - Martin Scorsese


"My tendency as an actor was to correct people, was to say, 'What if we tried it this way? What if we tried it that way?' That's a terrible habit for an actor, but that's a good habit for a director. So I became a director." - David Mamet

"You do the best job you can. You take it step by step. It's hard enough to make a movie. If it works, that's great. If it means something beyond the moment to somebody, they can take it, and if it lasts through the years, we'll see." - Oliver Stone

"I can make a better living as an actor than I can as a director. Though I certainly would prefer to be directing movies."  - Sean Penn

"You know, I became a director out of necessity. I was writing comedies and I couldn't find anybody to deliver it correctly." - Albert Brooks

"The film of tomorrow will resemble the person who made it and the number of spectators will be proportional to the number of friends the director has." - François Truffaut

"The kindest thing a director can do is to look with open eyes at everything." - Alexander Payne

"The only reason you make a movie is not to make or set out to make a good or bad movie, it's just to see what you learn for the next one." - Alfonso Cuaron

"If there's specific resistance to women making movies, I just choose to ignore that as an obstacle for two reasons: I can't change my gender and I refuse to stop making movies." - Kathryn Bigelow

"I have a feeling, a gut feeling, that I'll be making pretty good movies the rest of my life." - Paul Thomas Anderson

"For me, being a director is about watching, not about telling people what to do. Or maybe it's like being a mirror; if they didn't have me to look at, they wouldn't be able to put their makeup on." - Jane Campion

"A lot of the films I've made probably could have worked just as well 50 years ago and that's just because I have a lot of old-fashioned values." - Steven Spielberg

"The first work of the director is to set a mood so that the actor's work can take place, so that the actor can create. And in order to do that, you have to communicate, communicate with the actors. Direction is about communication on all levels." - William Friedkin

"In the future, everybody is going to be a director. Somebody's got to live a real life, so we have something to make a movie about." - Cameron Crowe

"I believe that filmmaking - as, probably is everything - is a game you should play with all your cards and all your dice and whatever else you've got. So each time I make a movie, I give it everything I have. I think everyone should and I think everyone should do everything that way." - Francis Ford Coppola

"A good director's not sure when he gets on the set what he's going to do." - Elia Kazan

"I think it would be very boring dramatically to have a film where everybody was a lawyer or doctor and had no faults. To me, the most important thing is to be truthful." - Spike Lee

"A film is never really any good unless the camera is an eye in the head of a poet." - Orson Welles

"Usually when I'm making a movie, what I have in mind first for the visuals, is how we can stage the scenes to bring them more to life in the most interesting way, and then how can we make a world for the story that the audience hasn't quite been in before." - Wes Anderson

"Visions are worth fighting for. Why spend your life making someone else's dreams?" - Tim Burton

_______

To close, my favorite line ever from a director about making moves...

"The directing of a picture involves coming out of your individual loneliness and taking a controlling part in putting together a small world. A picture is made. You put a frame around it. And one day you die. That is all there is to it." - John Huston