Driver is exactly my kind of movie character, with the sort of dilemma that I think is inherently cinematic. His dilemma is that he doesn’t belong to the day or the night. He’s caught between two worlds, he doesn’t know which one to belong to, and he ends up transforming himself into what he was meant to be, which is a hero, which he wasn’t aware of. -NICOLAS WINDING REFN
Since the dawn of recorded history, something like 110 billion human beings have been born into this world. And not a single one of them made it. There are 6.8 billion people on the planet. Roughly 60 million of them die every year. 60 million people. That comes out to about 160,000 per day. I read a quote once when I was a kid “We live alone, we die alone. Everything else is just an illusion.” It used to keep me up at night. We all die alone. So why am I supposed to spend my life working, sweating, struggling? For an illusion? Because no amount of friends, no girl, no assignments about conjugating the pluperfect or determining the square foot of the hypotenuse is gonna help me avoid my fate.
A lot of people want to be in control in the cinema, to be made to feel secure. I go against those conventions, for good or bad. I want to create a permanent state of unease. I want the audience to ask, ‘What the fuck is going on?’ If they ask that, they can start to let go a bit. Some people don’t. Some people can’t. But if you go with it, then trust me: you’re in for a ride.
happy birthday to NICOLAS WINDING REFN; the killer of cinema, the pornographer, the lover of carrot pie and hot chocolate, and the director who lights up a room like nobody does. 09/29/1970