There Is No Art Form That Has

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.

I Have Thus Decided To Make A Certain Film And Now Begins The Complicated And Difficult-to-master Work. To Transfer Rhythms, Moods, Atmosphere, Tensions, Sequences, Tones And Scents Into Words And Sentences In A Readable Or At Least Understandable Script. This Is Difficult But Not Impossible.

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.

The World Is A Den Of Thieves, And Night Is Falling. Evil Breaks Its Chains And Runs Through The World Like A Mad Dog. The Poison Affects Us All. No One Escapes. Therefore Let Us Be Happy While We Are Happy. Let Us Be Kind, Generous, Affectionate And Good. It Is Necessary And Not At All Shameful To Take Pleasure In The Little World.

We Make Each Other Alive; It Doesn’t Make A Difference If It Hurts.