I'd Prostitute My Talents If

No Other Art-medium–neither Painting Nor Poetry–can Communicate The Specific Quality Of The Dream As Well As The Film Can. When The Lights Go Down In The Cinema And This White Shining Point Opens Up For Us, Our Gaze Stops Flitting Hither And Thither, Settles And Becomes Quite Steady. We Just Sit There, Letting The Images Flow Out Over Us. Our Will Ceases To Function. We Lose Our Ability To Sort Things Out And Fix Them In Their Proper Places. We're Drawn Into A Course Of Events–we're Participants In A Dream. And Manufacturing Dreams, That's A Juicy Business.

One Has To Manage Alone As Best One Can. (karin Bergman)

Film As Dream, Film As Music. No Art Passes Our Conscience In The Way Film Does, And Goes Directly To Our Feelings, Deep Down Into The Dark Rooms Of Our Souls.

There Are Moments When I Can Wander Through My Childhood's Landscape, Through Rooms Long Ago, Remember How They Were Furnished, Where The Pictures Hung On The Walls, The Way The Light Fell. It's Like A Film - Little Scraps Of A Film, Which I Set Running And Which I Can Reconstruct To The Last Detail - Except Their Smell.

Fellini, Kurosawa, And Bunuel Move In The Same Field As Tarkovsky. Antonioni Was On His Way, But Expired, Suffocated By His Own Tediousness.