All coming here hoping to Christ the stories they heard is true, thinking that every fuckin’ plunker who steps off the dock trips dead into a bucket of money. But then you get here. And it ain’t that. And if you ain’t strong enough, this city’ll bugger you 18 different ways and then leave you to rot. Where’s the fuckin’ dignity?
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