There are moments when you make those decisions, like the moment when I decided I would never, ever direct a conventional script someone else had written - or indeed try to write a conventional script. After that, I felt I could move on. Show less «

[from his eulogy at Bingham Ray's memorial] His imagination, his passion, his wonderful, endless naivete combined with sophistication. It's been said that he was completely honest. For those of us who loved him and monitored the ups and down of his checkered career, this was a man who was undoubtedly stabbed in the back by people. And we know that, to some extent he was a victim of his own innocence. Show less «

My tragedy as a filmmaker now is that there is a very limited ceiling on the amount of money anyone will give me to make a film. Because they don't know what it's going to be about and because I won't use stars and because there isn't a script. And I really passionately want to have the resources to paint on a much bigger canvas. Show less «

[on Phil Davis] The fascinating thing about Phil is that we've worked together from him being a naughty youth to a middle-aged man. He's completely rigorous, intelligent, rooted and with a sense of the real world. He's up for trying anything. Completely creative. And a very nice bloke. The interesting thing about him, however, is this: he's an actor of immense scope and versatility, but don't ask him to do an accent. Show less «

If it's the case that there are a lot of people who can't or don't see my films, I don't really think that's to do with me, or the nature of my films, or neglect of me. It's to do with the continuing problem of the dissemination of British films on British screens. It's to do with the domination of Hollywood. But, do I feel neglected? No, hand on heart, not at all, I feel lucky. I get to make films without even showing a script. To be honest, the fact that I'm allowed to do what I do in the way that I do it never ceases to amaze me. Show less «

I mean, I've been to screenings of the film where the laughter came at quite surprising - to me - points. But, you know, people laugh for a variety of reasons - with, or at, or out of embarrassment, or nervousness even. It's not always a function of mirth. Show less «

People say to me, "Oh come on, you could do a great thing with a script." But I've always said no. Everyone will expect the quality and style of the acting to be as good as they are in my other films - and I wouldn't know how to do it. Show less «

I haven't made a film that, in some form, didn't come out of direct experience. All or Nothing (2002) has some very personal, autobiographical, emotional stuff in it, which I won't particularly enumerate. I made Secrets & Lies (1996) because I was concerned with adoption. There are people close to me who had adoption-related experiences, so I decided to explore that. And once I looked into it I realised what was more interesting to investigate was not so much a family with an adoptee, but the relationship between the birth mother and the adopted person. I made Vera Drake (2004) because a) I remember a particular woman who, I realised later, was an abortionist when I was a kid, and b) I'm old enough to have been around at a time when people had to get illegal abortions. I was very fortunate in that I never actually got any body into trouble myself, but I was actually there on several occasions, and was involved in the organisation of illegal abortions on three occasions, just as a friend. So "Vera Drake" came out of that experience. Show less «

In many ways, my parents in an unconscious way wanted to be as English as possible. They went to the theatre, to Stratford, to the Halle. My father only ever voted Labour. They were very bourgeois, very neurotic and very insular. When I went to Israel in 1960 we were on a kibbutz and we insisted on having a discussion about whether you could be an artist on a kibbutz. Of course, what we were dealing with was our own, unformed struggle about the whole thing, where our cultural roots were. The truth was, we were European and English artists. Show less «

I remain the guy with no script, who is very unforthcoming about what the film will be about and who won't discuss casting, which is the biggest sin of all. I will not talk about a film, even if there is a massive budget, if there are strings attached about casting. Show less «

One develops a strange parallel existence that is not to do with oneself but is defined by some journalists. In my case, I'm supposed to be this - how does it go exactly? - "melancholic soul given to brooding silences". Show less «

I cannot get more than a certain amount of money - there's a ceiling beyond which no-one will go. It's very frustrating. On the other hand, I don't whinge because there are people out there who don't get any money to make any films at all. So I don't complain. But on the other hand it would be terrific to have the scope to paint on a bigger canvas. I've done it with Topsy-Turvy (1999), which we made for £10 million. I don't know how we did it. We squeezed our £6.5 million to make Vera Drake (2004). Very hard. But if you want that kind of money, quite often they'll say, "Ah, that sounds like a good opportunity for Johnny Depp..." No disrespect to Johnny Depp, he's just an example. And the message is: "If you were to have Johnny, we could give you a great deal more dosh." But I won't go there. Because my job is to make the films I want to make and to have the freedom to explore them, without knowing exactly what it's going to be, and to have actors who will go along with that. But if you get in somebody who's there just so you can raise the money, there are immediate inhibitions. And also, I'm committed to making films that are about this world. You couldn't justify Happy-Go-Lucky (2008) to a potential backer. You couldn't go into Hollywood suite and say, "Well, it's about this teacher..." I think this is true of all my films - I don't think there's a single film where, if you described it, anyone would be blown away! Show less «

I like my films. I can't understand directors who don't watch their films after they've made them. If you don't like them, how the fuck can you expect anyone else to? Show less «

In terms of the way I do it and the things I try to say, there is absolutely no distinction between film and theater. There was a long period in the 1970s when I alternated between plays and films. But the real point is that I am much happier making films. Theater is fine when you do it. But film is my natural habitat. Show less «

You make films for people to see. I like my films. I haven't made a film I don't like. I don't sit and watch them all the time - that would be stupid! - but I can watch them and I'm pleased that they're out there. Sure, there are things I'd do differently now, but each film comes out of its own time. I mean, people have done amazing things on my films, on both sides of the camera. So to me, the films themselves are a celebration of filmmaking. I'm positive about it. Show less «

But now I think I've been remarkably lucky to have made 17 full-length films in which nobody has ever interfered, ever. Show less «

Given the choice of Hollywood or poking steel pins in my eyes, I'd prefer steel pins.

A Jew is someone who grows up in that environment. You can say that you're working class, you can say that you're northern or southern. These are non-negotiable facts. While I walked away from a Jewish existence, lots of things carried on in my life: gastronomic obsession, massive amounts of reading Isaac Bashevis Singer and Saul Bellow. So one doesn't stop being Jewish. Show less «

The basic problem with television films is that even if they get a repeat, or, in extraordinary circumstance two repeats, the rest is generally shelf-life. Show less «

The thing about what I do is that, unlike any other filmmaker, I'm not looking out for properties or material to adapt. I've no interest in that whatsoever, because it's not what I do. It's about making up worlds, and you don't make up worlds in a vacuum; it comes from all over the place. Sometimes you don't know where it comes from. It just comes. And it comes from being out there and being around. I'm somebody that lives out in the real world. Show less «

Given the events of even the 19th century, Zionism was inevitable. Given the events of the 20th century, Israel was inevitable. Show less «

There was a time when you just couldn't make an independent, indigenous, serious feature film. And those of us who were lucky enough (Ken Loach, Stephen Frears, Alan Clarke and others) mostly found that at the BBC you could do what you wanted. Show less «

I've long since stopped worrying about how I'm portrayed in the press because ultimately it's not that important. Everyone who knows me knows I do what I do with the greatest integrity. Show less «

You will find hardly any improvising on camera anywhere in my films. It's very structured, but it's all worked out from elaborate improvisations over a long period, as you know. Literary, word-bound people often say, "Ah well, if that's the case who's the author?" Which is remarkably dumb, isn't it? Show less «

I like Ken [Ken Loach], we always get on. We make very different films from very different perspectives. He makes unapologetically propagandist films with a very clear political agenda. You are left in no doubt about what he's trying to say to you when you see one of his films. On the other hand, I hope you have a great deal of doubt about what I'm trying to say to you when you see one of my films. I hope that you never walk out of one of my films with a very clear notion of what I'm saying, because I want you to have a lot of things to argue and ponder about. And Happy-Go-Lucky (2008) is no exception. And the idea that it's a piece of unadulterated happiness is rubbish, basically. It's got all kinds of complexities. Show less «