I’m not exactly sure why, but a few days ago I finally pulled the DVD of Night of the Following Day off my shelf and watched it twice: once as it was intended to be watched, and once with the director’s commentary. It still haunts me.
When Marlon Brando died in 2004, the Toronto Star asked me to write an obit, which I was delighted to do. I’d been fixated on the Method-making Nebraskan ever since 1972, that ‘comeback’ year of The Godfather and Last Tango in Paris.
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 