All language subtitles for Spielberg.2017

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I started making
movies when I was a young kid,

but I remember the time I almost gave
up my dream of being a movie director.

I must have been 16.

A movie came into town
called "Lawrence of Arabia,"

and everybody
was talking about it.

I never sat in a fancy
theater seat before.

Premium ticket price,
70mm projection,

stereophonic sound.

And when
the film was over,

I wanted to not be
a director anymore

because the bar
was too high.

There was a scene where he looked
at himself in that sword/knife,

when he was first
given the robes

and he thought
he was alone.

And he walked
around laughing

and looking at his shadow
where the diaphanous robe

he was holding out
was actually imprinted

on the sand in shadow.

It was a great moment.

And then later, when they
route the retreating Turks,

you see him again
covered in gore.

And he's got the knife in
the same position he had it

in his pristine days,
in his glory days.

And he's looking at himself,
who he's become.

It was the first time,
seeing a movie,

I realized that there are themes
that aren't narrative story themes.

There are themes that are character
themes, that are personal themes.

That David Lean
created a portraiture,

surrounded the portrait
with a mural

of scope
and epic action,

but at the heart and core
of "Lawrence of Arabia"

is "Who am I"?

I had such a profound
reaction to the filmmaking,

and I went back and saw
the film a week later.

I saw the film
a week after that.

And I saw the film
a week after that.

And I realized that
there was no going back,

that this was going to be
what I was gonna do

or I was gonna
die trying.

But this was going to be
the rest of my life.

And then trying to get...
it felt lined up.

- The camera just gotta go right.
- Just a little bit lower.

That's good right there.
That's perfect.

Yeah, camera has to go
right a bit, please.

Go right.

- Right, right, right, right.
- Can you get there?

Right there
would be good.

Every time I start
a new scene, I'm nervous.

And it's like going to school,
having to take a test.

I never heard the lines
spoken before.

I don't know what I'm gonna
think of hearing the lines,

I don't know what
I'm gonna tell the actors,

I don't know where
I'm gonna put the camera.

And every single time,
it's the same.

But I tell you, it's the
greatest feeling in the world.

I'll tell you
why it's a good feeling.

The more
I'm feeling confident

and secure
about something,

the less
I'm gonna put out.

The more I'm feeling, "Uh-oh,
this could be a major problem

in getting
the story told,"

I'm gonna work overtime
to meet the challenge

and get the job done.

All right, that's done.
I don't know if it's worth it.

And so, I hate the
feeling of being nervous,

but I need to feel
in this moment

I'm really not sure
what I'm doing.

And when that verges on panic,
I get great ideas.

The more I feel
backed into a corner,

the more rewarding
it becomes

when I figure my way out
of the corner.

I love it.
Next shot.

Good.

- Did you see that?
- Yes.

I remember when
Steven was in production on "Jaws,"

the word around town
and in the "LA Times"

was that it was folly and that
it was gonna be a disaster.

"Jaws"
started filming on May 2nd.

I was hired,
I think, on May 3rd,

and they had no shark,
no script, and no cast

when they first started,
so...

The script
was never locked.

We were
rewriting the script

12 hours before we were
shooting what we just wrote.

You know, it's scary
for a director to not know

if he's gonna be able to hand pages
to his cast the next morning.

Guys, we can't
shoot right now.

- Hold on.
- Hold on.

This is
my second day at sea

and I have
54 more days to go.

And if I survive this,

I'll have learned a lot, because
right now all I can tell you is

it's twice as slow shooting at
sea as it is shooting on land.

Well, the studio had never
shot a film on the ocean before.

They would do it
on the back lake.

They would do it
in a studio tank.

They would make
miniature boats.

They would...
everything would be so easy

that you would never
get cold or wet.

But Steven said, "I'm gonna
shoot in the open ocean."

Roll sound.

This was
supposed to be a thriller

based on people like you and
me that are out of our element

and having to fight something we have
no comprehension how to deal with.

That needs a level
of authenticity

that I thought shooting it
in the back lot

at Universal in North
Hollywood would not give it.

So, to me,
there was no going back.

It had to be shot
in the ocean.

I thought it
was gonna be a cakewalk,

but I didn't know anything
about tides or currents.

I didn't know about how the
wind affects the water,

how the color of the sky changes
the color of the water,

or how you can't get
anything to match.

It was one nightmare, worst-case
scenario after the other.

I didn't think
we'd ever finish.

I had just assumed
I'd be fired off the picture.

We were isolated in the middle
of the ocean, 12 miles offshore,

and it was technology
over art every single day.

We'd get a shot,
art was there,

but you couldn't recognize
the art from the effort.

Just trying to hold a whole
movie story in my head

is a very lonely thing, because
nobody can really help me with that.

I have to see it
before I film it.

And that's why
it was so scary on "Jaws"...

when I couldn't see it
until I finally did.

Just before I went off to make "Jaws,"
I got to meet Henry Hathaway.

He was kind of a tough-guy
director, and he said,

"There's gonna be moments where
you're gonna get to the set

and you're not gonna know
what the hell you're doing.

It happens to all of us.

You've gotta guard that
secret with your life.

Let no one see when you're
unsure of yourself.

Hide that
from everybody,

or you'll lose
the respect of everyone."

Marker.

- Good blood.
- And... ready?

- And action, Roy.
- Slow ahead.

I can go slow ahead.

You ought to come down
and ladle some of this shit.

And down.

Absolutely everything
was falling apart.

The first time we tested
the shark, it sunk.

It would come up
out of the water and go...

Like that.

I knew that it's gonna take

three or four weeks
to rebuild the shark,

and so we'd have to make up
something else

that didn't exactly
show the shark

but gave the sense
the shark was near.

Bring it around
after him!

The barrels were a godsend,

because I didn't need to show the shark
as long as those barrels were around.

What you don't see is generally
scarier than what you do see,

and the script was filled
with "shark."

Shark here, shark there,
shark everywhere.

The movie doesn't have
very much shark in it.

If the shark
had been available visually,

it might have changed
the whole psychology

of the experience.

When you hear,
"boom-boom, boom-boom,"

you've already been conditioned to think
that's when the shark is present.

When the shark is far away,
it's very faint.

When the shark is just about to attack,
it's very close and it's very loud.

We can advertise the
shark's presence or his attitude

by how we manage
these notes,

just very few notes.

You are in a state of
anxiety without seeing a shark.

It just scares the crap
out of you.

Charlie,
take my word for it!

Don't look back!
Swim, Charlie!

Swim!
Come on, Charlie!

Dun-dun.
Dun-dun, dun-dun.

Dun-dun, dun-dun, dun-dun,
bom, bom, bom, bom, bom, bom.

Come on, a little more, Charlie.
Attaboy.

Come here, Charlie.
Attaboy. Attaboy.

It is a
perfect exercise in suspense

with technique that any other
filmmaker would kill for.

I knew I was using an
electric cattle prod on the audience

every time there was some
kind of a pop-up surprise.

Like Hitchcock,
he knows how to get you

on the edge of your seat.

He doesn't show you
what you want to see,

and then he delivers it
when he wants to deliver it.

He
certainly likes torturing the audience.

Has he ever been
in analysis?

1, 1,000; 2, 1,000;

3, 1,000; 4, 1,000...

Everything
scared me when I was a kid.

Everything.

1, 1,000; 2, 1,000; 3, one...

I had a tree out my
window that was terrifying.

It was just terrifying.

1, 1,000; 2, 1,000...

I was filled
with so much fear

that I needed
to exorcise some of that.

And what better audience to
exorcise myself of my demons

than my three sisters.

He would lock us
in the closet with a skull,

which he had dripped different
colors of wax all over.

It almost looked
like blood.

I'd blindfold them
one at a time,

bring them
into the closet.

I'd put my whole body weight
against the door.

They'd take
their blindfold off,

and I would just sit there
listening to them screaming.

I mean, telling
this story now...

I still think
it was pretty cool.

I was gonna say,
"I hate myself for that."

I don't hate myself for that.
It was fun.

At first,
he just scared us.

But through his movies,

he gets to scare the shit
out of everybody now.

The blockbuster movie

of the summer,
of course, is "Jaws,"

a tale of a murderous
white shark on the loose.

And that movie's release
was well timed

for maximum impact
during the vacation season,

and some people
who have seen it

are now seeing phantom sharks every
time they go near the water.

I remember the
night "Jaws" opened.

I was with Steven. He said,
"Let's go and see the lines."

And we were looking, going by
all the lines in Westwood

and places like that,
and I said, "This is it.

This is gonna be
a major change."

I was with him in the car

and he was really,
really nervous but excited.

And the car
went around the corner,

and there was the line
went around the corner,

and then the car kept going,
and the line kept going.

And he was
absolutely beside himself.

You know, it was
this instant breakthrough.

It was like balloons were
exploding inside of this car.

And his whole life changed
in that couple of minutes.

And he was 25 years old
or something.

"Jaws" went
triple its budget

and it went about two and a
half times its schedule.

We wound up shooting
the movie in 159 days.

The film was originally
scheduled for 55 days.

But my hubris
was I actually thought

I could shoot the film
in 55 days.

Steven shook the very bones
of Hollywood.

"Jaws" made more money

than any film had ever made
up to that time.

The success
of that changed my life.

You know,
it gave me final cut.

It gave me a chance
to pick and choose

the movies I directed
from that moment on.

So "Jaws" was a free pass
into my future.

I want you to meet
a filmmaker now who has taken

the movie-going public and
shaken it to its very roots.

- Oh, boy!
- Aren't you excited?

- And everybody loves it.
- Have you seen it?

Please welcome Mr.
Steven Spielberg.

When did you first really
get interested in movies?

When I was
a bad little kid.

- Really?
- About, yeah, 13 years old.

- That was the whole thing?
- Very early starter, yeah.

Not... I didn't
take it seriously.

I did it...
like some people paint

and some people like to,
you know, drive little cars,

and I liked to make
little movies.

I didn't realize there was 50
years of filmmaking before me.

And I lived
in Phoenix, Arizona,

where you can listen to cactus grow
if you have nothing better to do.

- Yeah.
- And I took a movie camera

and I was learning sort of
the ABCs as I went along,

but it was just fun,
it was something to do.

I really
wanted my childhood to be

sort of the pie-in-the-sky,
Norman Rockwell American Dream.

My dad was this computer genius
that was on the team that invented

the first commercial data processing
machine at RCA back in 1950,

and so my dad was headhunted a lot
and went from company to company.

Like Army brats,
we moved from place to place.

But most of my formative years
took place in Phoenix, Arizona.

My father was the American man
who worked very hard.

Sometimes worked six days a week
and he came home late at night.

His career demanded a lot of
time away from the family.

And my mom
was Peter Pan.

She was a sibling,
not a parent,

because
she was a best friend,

not a primary caregiver.

And she got into trouble
like we got into trouble.

Steve had a feeling
that family should be

like "Father Knows Best,"

but we were not
the usual family.

We just kind of were bohemians
growing up in suburbia.

I went to a pet store one day,
and there was a monkey

sitting in a cage
like this, fetal position.

And the shopkeeper said
the monkey was dying.

He had been taken away from his
mother and he was depressed.

So, I come home,
driving my jeep

with a big cage in the back
and a monkey in the cage.

And I remember
the kids freaked out.

They were so scared.

Steve said, "You know,
in a normal household,

kids say,
'Can we have a monkey?'

And the mother says,
'Are you crazy?'"

You know, when I hear
my stories about

the things I've done,
I think, "That's crazy."

Did you
think she was crazy?

I liked the monkey.

As a child, I spent a lot
of my time watching television,

or listening
to soundtrack albums,

or just sitting around,
looking at the clouds.

My dad was always on me
for that.

He did not
like me getting Cs,

but school was not a place
I was really drawn to.

Steve was a kid that was
sort of watchful and tentative

and in some ways hesitant.

You know, he wasn't like the
normal kids in the neighborhood.

He wasn't the muscle guy.

You know,
he got bullied a lot.

That was tough.

Most of my demons
were self-inflicted wounds.

They were things
inside myself.

The way I saw myself.

I didn't have a lot
of high esteem for myself,

you know, growing up.

I just was a lonely guy.

I think that explained a lot

of why and how he was
compelled to make movies.

It was not just a means
of expression,

but it was
a means of escape,

and it was a means of sometimes
making friends with people

that you couldn't otherwise,
or getting to hang out

with girls that you might not
be able to otherwise,

or just finding a way
to have meaning.

The camera was my pen.

I wrote my stories
through the lens.

And when I was able to say
"action" and "cut,"

I wrested control
of my life.

I love films like
the "Sands of Iwo Jima,"

the "Flying Tigers,"
"Battleground,"

films that I'd see
on television.

And I would watch these things
over and over and over again.

I was really influenced
by all that stuff,

and so my first
couple of movies

were stories
about World War II.

There was an airport with a
bunch of World War II airplanes

just sitting out there
on the tarmac.

I would take a shot of my friend
with his finger on the stick

and intercut
actual 8mm combat footage.

A lot of it shot by
John Ford, by the way.

And made a movie
that looked like

the production value
was off the charts

because the production value
was off the charts.

It was the real thing.

You can just
look at those movies,

and you see the ability
to tell a story without words.

His use of primitive special
effects was spectacular.

You know, he'd have
big bullet hits,

he'd put little
see-saws of dirt,

so that when his actors
were running,

they'd step
on one piece,

and it would sort of catapult
the dirt up in the air

as if they were being shot
as they were running.

There were things that he did
that just made complete sense.

You saw the trajectory.

There was something
in the DNA of it that,

despite it being shot
on 8mm film,

was the voice
of that same filmmaker.

But I didn't know
anything about whether

I was gonna have a career
or where this was gonna go.

I just knew that it filled up
the time and it gave me

a tremendous amount
of satisfaction.

And the second I finished a movie,
I wanted to start a new one

because I felt good about myself
when I was making a film.

But when I had
too much time to think,

all those scary whispers
would start... start up.

It was not fun to be me
in between ideas or projects.

The lore has
it that as a young man,

Steven was sort of
the Phantom of the Opera,

haunting the lot
of Universal Studios.

He would literally
get on the lot

one way or another.

I got on
the studio tour bus,

took a jaunt
around the back lot.

And then at one point
they give you a bathroom break,

and I never came out
of the bathroom.

I waited till I could hear a
pin drop, and then came out.

The bus was gone
and I was on the lot.

Word was that he went upstairs

in the tower and took an office
on the sixth floor,

and nobody bothered him
for six months.

The story was he
requisitioned an office,

telephone, put his name
on the door.

Eh, I don't believe it,
but you know what they said

in "The Man Who Shot
Liberty Valance"...

when the legend is bigger than
the facts, print the legend.

One time he sneaked
onto Alfred Hitchcock's set

and watched him
direct a little bit

until he got caught
and was asked to leave.

Steve was
constantly learning,

constantly looking,
constantly asking questions

from all
of the tradespeople...

cinematographer,
lighting, editors.

It was like Spielberg 101
in overdrive.

I tried very hard
to get into USC Film School,

and I just didn't have
the grades to get in.

And I even had
a personal interview at USC,

and they turned me down
even in person.

So, Universal became
my film school.

Steven was laser focused.

He never lost sight of the fact that
the audience early on, for him,

wasn't the audience
in the theater.

The audience were
the studio executives.

And he figured out
how to make a film

that will convince
the studio executives that,

"Yes, I have the talent
to be a director.

This is what I can do."

I looked at this film,
and I was very taken with it.

I had
a very strong feeling

that this was not
your average young filmmaker.

Sid Sheinberg, who was President
of Universal Television at the time,

he said, "So, sir,
I saw your film.

Very well made.

I'd like to offer you
a seven-year contract

to come to Universal
to direct television."

He said,
"If you sign with us,

I will support you
as strongly in failure

as I will in success."

And he was true
to his word.

And that was the beginning of
the most important relationship

I could ever imagine having
in this business.

Steven was known
as the uncrowned prince.

He was the guy
who was gonna make it.

I mean, he was directing
Joan Crawford

when he was 20.

That'll teach you a lot of things.

Joan Crawford is the
first professional SAG member

I ever directed
in my life!

I want to see something!

Trees, concrete, buildings,
grass, airplanes, color!

It was Cassavetes who said,
"If you want to be a real filmmaker,

you can't be afraid
of anything or anybody."

And Steven's not.

He's there with Joan Crawford
who wants him out every day.

And he's gotta shoot and be
on schedule and be good,

meaning that
it has to have a vision.

The shots have to have
a point of view.

But after
"Night Gallery" came out,

there was a lot of criticism on the
fact that I was a novelty item.

The youngest term director ever
put under contract in history.

And the producers who were doing
the hiring wouldn't hire me.

There was
a lot of hostility,

and I had to prove myself
to everybody.

You know, they looked at me
as sort of Sheinberg's folly.

He underwrote me.
Let him find me work.

I had wanted to direct,

and Steven walks in,
and he's a kid!

And I'm envious as hell
right away.

Steven's able
to walk into a room,

look for a second or two,
say, "Here. Here.

Move that here.
Give me a 25mm here.

Put it this way.
Face forward.

Move it.
Silhouette here.

Two takes, three takes.
That's enough. Thanks.

Let's move on."
It was amazing.

Steven
had a gear in his brain

that automatically translated
words into pictures

almost without it being
a conscious process for him.

There was a unique
visual voice there

that you had to not only
pay attention to,

but you had to give
somewhat of a free rein to.

My early themes always
had the underdog being pursued

by indomitable forces

of both nature
and natural enemies,

and that person has to rise
to the occasion to survive.

And a lot of that
comes just from

the insecurities
I felt as a kid

and how that bled over
into the work.

I was always the kid
with the big bully,

and "Duel" was my life
in the schoolyard.

The truck was the bully,
and the car was me.

I was over
at Francis Coppola's,

and "Duel" was gonna
be shown that night,

so I sort of snuck away
from the party

and said, "I wanna see this film.
I wanna see what this kid did."

I was sort of on the fence
about Steven.

I said,
"Knows what he's doing,

nice, but a little
too Hollywoody for my taste."

I saw "Amblin'," and I
thought "Amblin'" was nice,

but it wasn't... you know,
it was very, very flashy.

It was very,
very professional.

And for the rest of us,
we were all rough-edged,

crazy guys that were doing
much more dirty work.

So, I thought, "Well, I'll
watch the first half hour

and just see
what he's up to."

And I ended up watching
the whole thing.

And I came down to Francis,
I said, "This guy's amazing.

You really gotta look
at this film."

Right off
the bat, it was clear

that no one moved the camera
like Steven Spielberg.

Other directors had
a fantastic sense of space.

Orson Welles,
you name it,

people who understood
composition.

But the way
that Spielberg's camera

moved through a shot

and then ended up somewhere
that completely shifted

or intensified the emotion
of the scene,

that was just
a natural gift he had.

Who knows
where that came from.

Who... but it was
his own technique.

"Duel" was a composition

that had a very elusive
and interesting theme.

You know,
this unknown menace.

Everyone's been on a road and some
idiot has crossed in front of you,

and, you know, you're tempted
to rev up fast

and go do something
nasty to him.

And here he took this
and made it into a parable.

When ABC saw "Duel,"

they were very excited
by what they were seeing.

But at the very, very end
when the truck did not explode

in a pyrotechnics display,

George Eckstein
called me and said,

"Network's really upset
that the truck didn't blow up,

so they're ordering us
to go back to that cliff

and blow the truck up."

And I said,
"I'm not gonna do it."

The death of the truck
is so agonizing.

I said, "I made
that truck die slowly."

The oil, like blood, dripping
off the steering wheel.

The wheel slowly rolling
to a stop.

The fan still going,
but the truck's dying.

I mean, it's the death
of the truck.

That's what the audience
wants to see.

This criminal element
paying...

you know, paying the price
for what it did to this man.

I wouldn't do it.
I wouldn't blow up the truck.

For Steven, the little
screen was an interesting canvas,

and obviously he painted
on it very well,

but he knew
that this screen

simply wasn't
a large enough canvas.

He's a director who know

how important
cinematography is,

and the way Steven directed
"Sugarland Express" was so fresh,

you know, because
everything was on location.

And half of the movie
was inside of a police car.

And that was
difficult thing to...

to keep that alive
all the time.

You know, the angles
and all that.

I see lights,
a whole bunch.

For me,
directing is camerawork,

and so I'm very
on the front line of that.

I've gotta set up the shot,
I've gotta block the actors,

choreograph the movement
of the scene,

bring the camera
into the choreography,

figure out when the camera
stops, how it moves,

how far it moves,
what the composition is,

so I've always got my eye on the
lens, and that's what I do.

I even pick the lens
I want.

His strength
is really the ability

to be able to tell a story
in pictures instinctively.

I sometimes watch his pictures
on TV without the sound

just to see the pictures.

Pauline Kael, one of the most
influential film critics of all time,

wrote in "The New Yorker"
that Steven Spielberg had made

one of the most phenomenal
debuts in the history of film.

She compared him
to Howard Hawks

in terms of how natural
his feel for the medium was.

What Kael
saw in Spielberg

was someone
with a real movie sense,

but she also said
she wasn't necessarily sure

there was great depth
to go with it.

She didn't see a sign
of an emerging film artist

like Martin Scorsese.

What she saw instead
was the birth

of a new generation
Hollywood hand.

Martin Scorsese,
filmmaker of "Mean Streets."

This is Brian De Palma,
loud as ever.

- George and Marcia Lucas.
- Hi!

And this is Steven.

Get the camera arranged.
Great.

In the mid to late
'60s, there was a major change

in the Hollywood
studio system.

It was a very different world
they had to serve,

and there was
a new freedom, too.

So, suddenly the
doors were open for young directors

with very crazy,
seemingly original ideas.

It's almost like, you know,
crashing a party.

Yeah, people were on the way
out, and we were going in.

We were absolutely
obsessed with movies,

but we certainly didn't
look at it as a career.

We didn't think we were ever
gonna make any money at it.

There was
George and Francis,

and then there was
Marty and me,

and then
there was Steven.

We came
from different places,

but needless to say, we were
always very happy to be together.

When we got together, it was
like a fraternity of directors.

George, put the camera
on the table, on...

I'm gonna hit a ball
into the lens,

and you pick the camera up
at the last moment.

When I got into the group
of the Movie Brats,

as somebody
once called us,

I never... it was the first
time I felt like an insider.

We were very, very
fortunate to be part of that time.

The culture
was converging.

That's Albert.

It was filmmakers,
it was artists,

musicians, performers.

It was an incredible,
fertile time.

And here we have
Amy Irving in the car.

Brian De Palma introduced us
when she was making "Carrie."

Then they started to go out together.

They were together
and then they were apart,

and then they got back
together again.

- Amy half dressed.
- As usual, sewing.

Yes, sewing Steven's pants
to get him ready

for the big day
that's coming very soon.

Noogies, noogies.

Steven was a nerd.

Master of the world!

A loveable
nerd, but he was a nerd.

He was not into sports
or drugs or rock 'n' roll,

but he was passionate
and he was so enthusiastic.

He used to love
to talk about film,

and it was infectious,
his enthusiasm.

Steven had the first car phone.

It's ringing.

So, Steven and I
used to go around

and call up a girl and say, "Well, let's
get together," and she'd say, "Fine."

And then of course we'd be
parked right outside her house.

That was like...
I would say...

it may seem
extremely silly now,

but in those days
it was like a miracle.

He was fun.
He was fun to be around.

I'm Julia Child,
the French chef.

Today we are carving...
turkey for Thanksgiving!

We were all struggling

with our first
very unsuccessful attempts

to penetrate
the Hollywood establishment,

but Steven was working
all the time.

Steven always was
a creature of the studio,

and his thinking and his
methodology went that direction,

and he became
a master of it.

He was very fortunate
that the kind of movie

he really had a sense for
was also the kind of movie

that the audience
had a sense for.

We are now
in the Scorsese kitchen.

We are going to show
"Hell's Angels."

We all gravitated
towards each other.

We had that one thing that kept
us all together, the one element.

The one kind of a madness
and an obsession with movies.

We were
consulting with each other,

and unabashedly giving opinions
about each other's works.

It was very much that way,

but we were
still competitive.

"Come and see my movie.

Sit down... sit here.
The sound's best here."

And blow
the other guy away.

Everybody was sort of
forced to do a better job

to impress everybody,

because Marty had done
this movie,

or Francis had done
that movie.

They became
like the acid test.

You get some real grounding
and you hope an honesty...

maybe not too honest.

George showed a bunch of us

"Star Wars"
for the first time,

and there were
no effects in yet.

It was just World War II,
black-and-white stock footage

intercut with blue screen
production color footage,

and then showed
that movie to us,

expecting us to be able
to see the movie.

It was basically
a children's film.

You know, it wasn't what
the other friends of mine

would think of as something
really worthwhile.

Steven was the one person who was
really enthusiastic about it

and said, "This is gonna be
a huge smash."

But George said, "I
think it's gonna be a disaster."

He was very depressed,
and we all went

to a Chinese restaurant
after the film was over,

and Brian stood up
and started to geschrei about,

"What's going on around here?
I don't understand the story.

Who are these people?
Who's the hairy guy?

Where do they come from?
Where's the context?

Where's the backstory?
It's driving me crazy."

Brian went off
on George.

And George just sat there.
He turned red.

George, I think,
wanted to kill him.

But out of all that,
something great came.

Brian basically said, "You need,
like, an old-fashioned movie

to start the picture
with a foreword,

and all these words come on the
screen, and they travel up,

and the foreword tells you
what the hell you're looking at

and why you're in the theater
and what the mythology is.

Tell us
what this world is,

and then we can enjoy
the picture."

And that was the birth
of the famous prologue.

Steven came to visit me
when I was shooting "Scarface,"

and I gave him
one of the units

to shoot the Colombians
coming up the staircase.

Say hello to my little friend.

So, we were just
shooting people getting shot

for a couple of weeks.

We all had great respect
for each other's work,

and we were just trying
to help each other out

when we would see things that
we thought could be improved.

All right,
now I am turning the...

the camera over
to our new director...

That's the worst swish pan
I've ever seen.

The worst swish pan
I've ever seen.

He's shooting me.
I'm totally in darkness.

How do you expect
to see anything?

It's kind of like what
happened in Paris in the '20s.

You know, you get a group of
people, they're all crazy people,

and they're controversial
and doing the same struggle,

but you sort of look at it
later and you say,

"How could
that whole group..."

the whole group
became successful

and dominated
the film business.

It's like,
how could that be?

We were just
a bunch of crazy kids.

But, you know, I think a lot
of it was really love of film

and all desperate to make film
any way we could.

Oh, my God.

When you're
watching Steven's movies,

you feel like you're in the
presence of something mysterious

and inexpressible
and poetic.

Enjoying
very simple pleasures...

being scared, being amused,
being dazzled.

I had been very influenced

by how far Stanley Kubrick
took "2001: A Space Odyssey"

into the world of, really,
expressionist art,

and I wanted to take "Close
Encounters" even further.

I really wanted the audience
to look at the screen and say,

"I'm having a sighting,"

but I wasn't sure
any of this was gonna work.

It was very risky.

The effects
for "Close Encounters"

basically had never
been done before.

He shot the people
with a motion control camera,

making the camera move,
pan, tilt,

whatever he want to do.

And then that's recorded,
actually, on a tape,

and then when Doug Trumbull, the
special effects supervisor,

goes back to the post
production facilities,

he can actually duplicate
exactly that camera move.

So, when you married the
two images, they were perfect,

and you could have, for
really about the first time,

moving special effects.

Always before, you had
to kind of sit there quietly,

because if you moved,
it would destroy everything.

Everybody
is doing that today.

They could not be doing
those effect movies

unless Steven and Doug didn't
try all these things already.

The stakes were so high
for Steven on "Close Encounters."

Columbia Pictures was literally
on the verge of bankruptcy,

and they bet the farm
on this movie.

He had bankers and Hollywood
breathing down his neck

to prove to the world
that "Jaws" wasn't a fluke.

So, Steven had a giant
responsibility on his shoulders,

but he had to stay true
to what worked for him,

or it wasn't gonna be
a good film.

And he did.

Win or lose, he made the movie
that he had dreamed of making.

When I was a kid,
my dad took me to watch

the Perseid meteor shower
and introduced me to the sky

as a place
of unspeakable wonders.

And because it was such a
beautiful experience for me,

the heavens promised
if there was ever gonna be,

you know,
a first meeting

between an extraterrestrial
civilization and our own,

it would only be benign
and constructive.

It would be
a conversation.

When these
extraterrestrials are coming here,

we don't know
what they can speak,

what they understand,
or even what they see,

so Steven had this idea
that communication

should be a combination
of sound and light.

I had first
thought mathematics would be

the common language
between intergalactic species,

but I thought it would be
much more emotional

if music was how we spoke
to one another.

I don't search
for films consciously

that have
a spiritual core.

There's a spiritual part
of myself that happens

to bleed over into the work,
and so I subconsciously,

which is the only choice
that's important,

will find things that inherently
have something of a belief system

that's beyond our understanding,
that's a little bit out there.

"Close Encounters" was
much more a personal statement

than his previous
two movies had been.

I mean,
he wrote the script.

It really meant
a huge amount to Steven.

Its genesis
was from a film

I had actually written
and directed when I was 17.

It was the story of
man's first contact with UFOs.

And there were actually UFOs
in "Firelight" that I created.

I saw a lot of movies, and I had a
whole card catalogue in my brain

of the things I had seen.

And just by watching movies
with special effects in them,

I could figure
most everything out.

In a way, he had
lived with "Close Encounters"

since he was a child.

And he had a vision
in a real palpable sense

of what this movie
should feel like

when you experience
the movie.

Steven doesn't want to make
little personal movies.

He wants to make
big personal movies.

That's not right.
That's not right.

That's not right.

That's not right.

I identified
with this obsession

that Richard Dreyfuss
was struggling with.

I was Neary
in that movie.

Something opens up
his imagination

to go for something
that he thinks

is going to provide
some cathartic answer.

He had to go
through chaos

to reach
some kind of clarity.

He was an artist
trying to plumb

the depths
of his imagination.

And so I think
in a sense

"Close Encounters"
is maybe the most,

at least certainly
the most personal film

I had made
up to that point,

because it was also about
the dissolution of a family.

I remember when we moved to
Northern California from Arizona.

I had sensed that things weren't
going well with my parents.

And one day,
my dad just broke down,

and I never had seen
my dad cry before.

And I just stood there
in the kitchen,

outraged that my father
was not a man.

He was crying
like a little boy.

And I started screaming "crybaby"
at him as loud as I could.

Just started screaming, "Crybaby,
you crybaby, you crybaby,"

until they pushed me
out of the kitchen.

Roy, promise me that you'll go!
Please!

You crybaby! You crybaby!
You crybaby!

- You crybaby! Crybaby!
- Get out of here! Get out!

Come on, you guys.

- Crybaby!
- Come on.

You crybaby!

- Be quiet!
- Stop it!

My mom went from being
completely joyful

and celebrative
about life itself

to being full of despair
and palpable sadness.

I would see my mom
going into the living room

and playing some Schumann
and crying.

Crying to the point she couldn't
see the notes on the paper.

I'd sit with her and hold
her hand, talk to her.

She just said, "I'm so lonely here.
I'm so sad here."

I was going through
the same thing.

And all I knew
was that my dad

was fulfilled up there,
and we weren't.

So, when it was announced
by my mom

that my mom and my dad
were splitting up,

I didn't know
any of the details.

I didn't know
why they were splitting up,

and I didn't
for a long time.

I didn't want to know.

I fell in love
with somebody else.

I was madly in love
with Bernie Adler.

I look back, I think,
"How dare I do that?"

But I really didn't care
at that point.

It was all about me
and my unhappiness.

Bernie had been my
father's best friend,

and he was a fixture.

It was like
having an uncle.

I never would tell the
kids that she divorced me.

Instead, I let them think
I divorced her.

Why did you do that?

Protecting her
'cause she's fragile.

And she still is.

And so, I figured I could be
hurt less than she.

I still loved her.

My dad and my stepfather
were best friends.

My mom married
Dad's best friend.

You look at the big picture,
that's shit.

That's really bad.

It didn't hit me
till I got older

that that was a really
tough thing for Dad,

and I...
my heart bled for him.

Steve really
thought my dad left us.

So, during a number of years,
we blocked him out.

And Steve, I know,
blamed him

for the relationship
going bad.

It was literally
the worst period

of my entire life.

I never told my dad
I was mad at him.

We never had
angry words,

but it was
an estrangement

that I created,
not from my dad.

He was seeking
a relationship with me.

I just went off
and got lost in my work,

the way I saw my dad
get lost in his

all those years
of coming home late

and working weekends back
in Phoenix and all of that.

I became my father.
I became a workaholic.

And I just lost
the contact with him.

It went on for...
15 years.

You know, I
read about you today.

You've done four pictures.
That's all.

Four movies
that I can count.

You're not Alfred Hitchcock
who's done over 50.

You're not John Ford.

Can you believe
that you've directed

four pictures
and you're a famous person?

- Can you believe that?
- Can I believe that?

Yes, I can,
as a matter of fact.

I can believe that I've
directed four pictures,

although it seems like I've
been directing much longer.

He arrived on the
scene in such a huge manner.

You know,
the way "Jaws" entered

into the consciousness
of the world was huge.

"Close Encounters"
was 10 times as huge.

But Steven was in the process
of inventing himself.

I don't think
he himself knew

where this road
was gonna take him.

I'm sure, like everybody
else at that age,

he was wondering was he really
as good as he thought he was.

And turned out he was.

Once you do "Jaws"

and then "Close Encounters,"
well, where do you go?

The bar, as they say,
is set a certain level.

And what do you do?

You get yourself
into shape

and you jump
over the bar again.

Originally,
my idea for "E.T."

didn't include
an extraterrestrial.

It was gonna be about how a
divorce affects childhood

and how it really
kind of traumatizes children.

- Dad's shirt.
- Yeah.

Remember when he used
to take us out to the ball games

and take us
to the movies,

and we'd have
popcorn fights?

So, the overriding theme
was gonna be about

how do you fill the heart
of a lonely child?

Me, human.
Boy.

- Elliott.
- And what extraordinary event

would it take
to fill Elliott's heart

after losing his dad?

It would take something
as extraordinary

as an extraterrestrial
coming into his life.

Steven, as a filmmaker,

can create otherworldly,
almost impossible scenarios,

but do it
in a suburban setting

and with real families
and real people,

and so, you are able to go
outer worldly, outer space,

extraterrestrial,
implausible scenario,

because it's grounded
in human beings

and human stories.

Okay, he's a man
from outer space

and we're taking him
to his spaceship.

- Well, can't he just beam up?
- This is reality, Greg.

"E.T." was a
suburban American story,

and suburbia was all
I knew growing up.

So, the movies I made
in the '70s, the '80s,

were a reflection
of what I knew.

My main religion
was suburbia.

You know, the families
all getting together,

nobody gets divorced, nobody's
unhappy with each other.

'Course, it's all false.

Maybe you just
probably imagined it...

- I couldn't have imagined it. - Maybe it
was a pervert or deformed kid or something.

A deformed kid.

Maybe an elf
or a leprechaun.

It was nothing like that,
penis breath!

Elliott!

Sit down.

Dad would believe me.

Maybe you ought to call your
father and tell him about it.

I can't. He's in
Mexico with Sally.

Where's Mexico?

I saw my childhood
through this family

and those young,
wonderful actors.

When Steven
works with children,

he brings a kind of
"let's play" feeling.

He'd have to pull you back.
Grab on to this, right here.

It's not like somebody
talking baby talk to kids.

It's just he's really
communicating to them.

And it's sort of like
direct transmission.

Now he suddenly turns to you,
his eyes come open.

Do that to E.T. Give that
joyful scream to E.T.

Do the line again, really excited
about "Are they coming?"

Breathing, breathing, breathing,
breathing, breathing.

- Work yourself up.
- Does this mean they're coming?

No, work yourself up even more.
Work yourself up.

Does this
mean they're coming?

Bigger, bigger. "Does this
mean they're coming?"

Does this mean
they're coming?

Yes!

He had to be a
bit of a father, a bit of a pal,

but he was, more than anything,
an observer of them,

and I think that was
a lot of fun for him.

- All of the kids were fun for him.
- You gotta take me seriously.

- This is Halloween, folks. Hello, my love.
- Hi, Granny.

Wait a sec. Drew, this
is for you, my darling.

I wanted
to shoot "E.T." in continuity.

It gives the kids a context for
the work they're doing that day,

'cause they know that tomorrow
will be tomorrow in the script

and yesterday was
yesterday in the script.

So, for young kids,

it gives them a real confidence
that they're living a life

and they're living
a story's life.

Now they put the machine
on his chest,

and they're gonna give him a shock
to try to make him come back.

And when they give him
the shock,

it's very loud and it makes
you jump and cry even more.

They're putting it
on his chest now,

and he presses the button,
and it goes, "Pow!"

Are you okay, honey?

Huh? Are you okay?

Let's see.
Wipe your doll's face, too.

Thank you.
Thank you.

Okay. Oh.

For many years I wondered about the
universal appeal of this movie,

and one day,
it hit me.

There are no two humans
on Earth

that are father apart

than those humans
and that alien creature.

Come.

Stay.

And if Elliott,

and the mother,
and the little girl,

and the scientist,
could all love and empathize

and make
a rapprochement

and a rapport
with this creature,

so, too, can any two humans
on Earth,

and I think that was a subtext
that bubbled up through the film

and must have
touched something,

because you don't
get many films

that are universally
loved and appreciated

40 years later.

And it spoke
to something.

Some desire to be able
to reach across boundaries

and touch other people.

I'll be right here.

Bye.

It's a very
difficult balance as a director

to push a young child
to do a dramatic sequence,

because you're obviously
manipulating them to some capacity.

But Steven knew
how to take them as a director

into some
of these darker places

while handling them
with kid gloves.

The children
in Spielberg's world

may be vulnerable,
may be unhappy,

but they're also very...
they're very powerful

and they're heroic.

I think all of
my movies that have dealt

with young people
and their stories

are about the importance
of empowering these children

to take control
of the story,

at least take control
of their lives.

Steven
intuitively looks at the world

through
a lens of innocence,

and children
do that naturally.

So, it became
the kind of go-to lens

that he wanted to use
for his storytelling.

One of the most interesting
things that I've read about you

was a headline which said,
"Steven Spielberg is making

movies and a fortune
while he's still growing up.

He's really
just a big kid."

Is that how you see yourself?
Is that a reasonable comment?

I think it's reasonable. You have to
understand... how do you define a big kid?

A responsible big kid, or just
an irresponsible big kid?

Because I think
you have to be responsible,

but you don't want
to lose the child in you,

because that's
what keeps you young,

and that's what
keeps you in touch,

and keeps a smile
on your face.

I don't quite know

what it would be like
to become an adult.

- Oh...
- My...

God!

I was feeling my oats

after both "Jaws"
and "Close Encounters."

And so I thought, "I can
do a comedy." Why not?

If I did those two movies,
why can't I do anything?

And I have
a sense of humor.

I go to movies and I laugh
when they're funny.

Why not tackle a comedy?

I felt pretty invulnerable
at that time.

I can assure you

there will be
no bombs dropped here.

Bob Zemeckis and Bob Gale
wrote the script,

and it was lean and mean.

I'm the one
that stretched the humor

and the budget
to its breaking point.

To me, it was an excuse
to just blow a bunch of shit up

and try to get
an audience to laugh.

But it was like I committed
a war crime by making "1941."

Everyone was
eviscerating it.

I was really devastated.

Just that feeling of failure,
that cold emptiness,

where every reminder
of the movie,

you get that sick feeling
in the center of your stomach,

and you just want to go dig a
hole and stick your head in it.

I mean, for the next year,
I put my head in a lot of holes.

And my friend George Lucas
came to the rescue.

George said,
"What are you doing next?"

And Steven said that he really
wanted to do a James Bond film.

And George said, "I have something
much better than James Bond."

It's about an archeologist

and he goes hunting
for supernatural artifacts.

And Steven said,
"I love it.

Let's do it."

He's not a
stock, standard hero.

He's not one of these
"just add water"

and he'll grow into
the hero of your dreams.

There's a human being
under all of that.

That's what made Indiana Jones
accessible to audiences.

- I think they're trying to kill us.
- I know, Dad!

Well, it's a new
experience for me.

Happens to me all the time.

It's an action-adventure movie
where every reel is a cliffhanger.

Just pure
escapist entertainment.

It was gonna be
an all-out "B" movie,

and "B" movies are fun because they
don't take themselves that seriously.

You do them quick.
You do them dirty.

You cheat on everything
you possibly can

to save as much money
as you possibly can,

and you don't worry
about the fact

that it's not gonna be
"Lawrence of Arabia."

We took it to the studios,
and what I didn't realize

was that Steven didn't have
that great a reputation,

because he was always going
over budget and over schedule.

So, every studio said no.

And some of them even said, "You know,
if you can get a different director,

we'll do it, but Steven can't
make that film for $20 million."

So, Steven said, "I promise
you, I will not betray you.

If it's $20 million, we will
make it for $20 million."

My experience
on three cost overruns,

"Jaws,"
"Close Encounters," "'41,"

taught me how to be
more economical

and benefited
"Raiders" immeasurably.

He had something to prove, but he
also didn't wanna let me down, his friend.

You know, it's like, it
wasn't a studio, it was us.

Friday night. If we don't get
this, we don't get the shot.

If we don't get the shot,
we don't get the movie.

If they don't get the movie,
we're all up the creek.

George said,
"Look, if you direct this,

you have to shake my hand
right now and promise

if it's a big hit,
you gotta direct two more."

And it was
a great collaboration.

Dad!

- What? What?
- Dad!

- Dad!
- What?

- Head for the fireplace.
- Oh.

The "Indiana Jones"
movies were always more about movies

than they were
about anything else.

They followed
certain film formulas,

which freed them
to do silly stuff.

There was
something which I simply adored

in "Indiana Jones."

When Harrison
had fallen over a cliff

and his friends thought he was
dead and they were peering down,

and Harrison had come up
without his hat,

because he'd fallen over
a cliff, for heaven's sake,

and a mysterious breeze blows the
hat into frame.

These movies are clearly
made for an audience.

They're made
for the filmgoer.

They're meant for the pure
joy of entertainment.

Which doesn't mean that they
can't be emotionally involving,

which doesn't mean they can't
be smart from time to time.

But they have to be
satisfying entertainment.

And Steven and George
have figured out

how to use the engine
of filmmaking

to satisfy an audience
in a way

not so many directors
or producers have.

In the century-long
history of motion pictures,

there has been
one director, just one,

whose movies have earned
a total of a billion dollars...

Steven Spielberg.

Steven is arguably
the most commercial director

in the history
of motion pictures,

and I think it's because
he has a deep understanding

of how the language
of cinema

elicits an emotional reaction
in an audience.

And there's no question that the idea of
making movies that became phenomenons

was extremely exciting
for Steven.

But it brought
a lot of mixed results.

There were people
that hated him,

people that blamed him
for ruining the movies.

William Goldman
had written specifically

that the blockbuster
and Steven

and George Lucas
had destroyed Hollywood.

Some people saw
Spielberg as a repressive force,

that he was bringing in
a kind of empty escapism

that was going to take film
in another direction.

And certainly
with the marketing executives

who moved
into the studios

in the late '70s
and the early '80s,

it was clear that what they
saw were dollar signs.

But I wouldn't blame
Spielberg for that.

Go back to the first review
by Pauline Kael.

She said he was
a great popular entertainer,

that he had a feel for what
audiences wanted to see.

Why should anybody
apologize for that?

Let me get you
to react to something

that one of your peers said,
another director.

"Steven Spielberg
can't be compared

with people like Mike
Nichols and Barry Levinson.

There is a place
for mass entertainment,

but it shouldn't
be confused

with art or quality,
award-winning filmmaking."

Sometimes I think
that statements like that

are pretentious
in themselves,

because it sort of says
that, you know,

art is serious and art
can't be... can't move you.

Art can't be on a bicycle with E.T.
and fly across the moon,

that that can't be art.

If you're making
the kinds of movies

that make the kinds of money
that his movies do,

and if you're making
franchise entertainment

or just something that
appeals to a lot of people

and is unapologetically
mainstream entertainment,

then there's a little bit
of, I think, suspicion.

You know, how can we take
you seriously as an artist?

Come on, girl,
'cause I'm waiting for you.

You cut me
and I'll kill you.

I was looking for a
different perception of myself.

And if I didn't want
to consciously

make a departure
and prove something,

not just to myself
but to everyone else,

I might not have chosen
"Color Purple" as my next movie.

But it was my first
really mature film,

which took on, you know, substantive,
humanistic subject matter.

I was turning 40 and I was looking
at life perhaps less optimistically.

And so, I knew this was gonna
be a very sobering journey,

and I was willing
to take it on.

All my life
I had to fight.

I had to fight my daddy,
I had to fight my uncles,

I had to fight
my brothers.

A girl child ain't safe
in a family of mens,

but I ain't never thought
I had to fight in my own house!

I loves Harpo.

God knows I do,

but I'll kill him dead
before I let him beat me.

For Steven to
even take on this material

was a really big deal,

because you're messing
in some territory

where if you get it wrong, then
you get a lot of people upset.

He wanted to create not only
an African-American worldview,

but a matriarchal world

in the presence of patriarchal
repression and violence.

And I truly believe
that he wanted

to stretch himself in a way
that he never had before.

And he does push himself,

but he's not gonna push
himself too far in advance...

the audience
or maybe his own,

you know,
core inclination.

He don't ever ask me
how I feel.

Just never asked me
nothing about myself.

Just climb on top of me,
do his business.

"Do his business"?
Do his bu...

why, Miss Celie,
you sound like

he going to the toilet
on you.

That's what it feel like.

I got in trouble
with several critics

who didn't like
that I shied away

from the love story
between Shug and Celie.

And the scene where Shug Avery shows
Celie, with a mirror, her vagina,

that that did not
go into the movie,

which would've
really changed

the entire nature and tone
of the film.

I just didn't go for the full
monty the way the book did.

I might've done that had I
made the movie 10 years later.

I was just timid.
I was just a little embarrassed.

I just wasn't
the right guy to do that.

Steven was telling
the story that Alice wrote,

and he was trying
to access that

from his personal
point of view.

He could never go where
Alice went with that book.

That book was appreciated
for its grit and its realism,

and neither of those were
qualities that he was known for.

He was just asking for it by
even going anywhere near that.

Nobody really
wanted Steven Spielberg

to be a gritty filmmaker.

That wasn't
his sensibility.

But with "The Color
Purple," colors are exact,

the settings have been built
from the ground up

according
to his specifications.

There's something so false
and so Disney storyboard-like

about that movie.

You know, he wanted
to make a prettier picture

than was intended
in the text.

That's Steven.

He wants to make
everything like that.

He wants to make
life like that.

I have a baby
on the way,

and the child is going
to change my life.

- It already has, in a way.
- Are you nervous about it or what?

I'm not nervous
about it at all, no.

I just think
it's the best thing

that's ever happened
to me and to Amy.

We really can't wait
for this.

I think the
destiny of Amy and I

was to bring Max
into the world,

which was such
a beautiful thing.

Before that, I'm not sure I
knew what a personal life was.

I thought life began

with, you know,
"Action!"

And then, "Cut!"

After my mom and dad
broke up,

I always thought
that I would do my best

that if I ever decided
someday to get married,

I wouldn't get divorced.

And then,
of course, I did.

Divorce in any situation
is painful.

And it's especially
painful for me

because I am a child
of divorce

and I know
what it felt like.

And so, you know,
I felt terrible for Max,

that he had
to endure that.

- My plane.
- Jamie! Jamie!

Mom?

- Mom?
- "Empire of the Sun"

was about this young boy
growing up in Shanghai

who gets separated
from his parents

during
the Japanese invasion.

Mommy!

- Jamie!
- Mommy!

And he goes through
a tremendous transformation

and growing-up process.

It was playing on
what I knew were my strengths,

being able to take the
dark, grim reality of war

and put it
with a child's approach

in the way this particular
special child saw that war.

It was based
on the experiences

that J.G. Ballard had

in a Japanese
internment camp.

Jim was a lost boy
trying to figure out

where he belongs
in this world.

It's a movie about
growing up too quickly

and abandoning everything
that you once used

to keep yourself safe.

When you have nothing
to keep yourself safe,

you become a survivor
like all the rest,

and you grow up
awfully quickly.

It's an extraordinary story

of the resilience
of children,

this incredible survivor

who manages to have
more fortitude to him

than, really, any of
the adults around him.

It's in the great
tradition of epic filmmaking.

That sports stadium
at the end when all the goods,

all the stuff that had
been stolen is there,

the surrealism of that

and what it makes you feel
at that time and place,

the sense of what
the world was like,

how it had fallen apart,
all of civilization.

And then, something
even more disturbingly beautiful,

and that is the glow
from the atom bomb.

It's like a soul transcending
into another life.

Mrs. Victor.

This is very poetic
and... mystical.

This was war

and it was death
and real horror.

And it was like
an end of innocence

for the Spielberg child.

I think it was
a truly great film,

but, for me,
it ultimately shaded

into an unnecessary softness
or sentimentality.

I don't know
where it comes from,

but he likes
and enjoys sentiment.

It's part of him.

At the time, he was
not dismissed, exactly,

by a lot of critics, but sort of
looked at a little skeptically.

"Oh, he wants
to be serious now.

Oh, he's trying to make
serious movies.

Oh, now he wants it"...
which, I mean...

it's such
a kind of nasty thing

to say about any artist.

It definitely
hurt his feelings.

I don't think anybody
as an artist

wants to feel like
they're being pigeonholed

in a way that other people
are determining who they are.

And when Steven
began to explore

other kinds
of more serious stories,

they were very reluctant
to let him do that.

That was like, "How dare
you, Steven Spielberg?

We've determined that you make
these kind of movies,

so why are you suddenly
trying to make this?"

He doesn't
over-intellectualize,

but maybe as a filmmaker,
Steven was using those movies

as stepping stones
along the way.

He didn't know
where he was headed,

but I think he was exercising
those muscles, in a way,

to recognize
he could go there,

that it was okay.

My very first
memory... I was in a stroller.

I just remember
being wheeled somewhere,

and my grandmother
and grandfather were with me.

We went into
this underground space.

There was a red light
over a set of doors.

And I just remember
getting closer and closer

to this red light
where all these old men...

just men were all
chanting something.

And the red light was the
Eternal Light, the Ner Tamid,

and that's
my very first memory.

- Do you believe in God?
- Yes.

Tell me about that.
Where where does...?

It comes from my...

you know, my spiritual...
not even spiritual,

my religious roots
and family.

All my grandparents had a very
strong influence over me.

My grandfather, Fievel,
played guitar

and he sang
all Yiddish Russian songs.

And my grandmother,
Jennie,

taught English to Hungarian
Holocaust survivors.

We were Orthodox.
I was raised Orthodox.

And tradition has been
a huge part of my family,

and religious studies,
and Hebrew school,

and bar mitzvahs, and bat
mitzvahs for my sisters.

But we always lived in neighborhoods
where there were no Jews.

And there was a real cultural
divide in those days

between Jewish people
and Gentiles,

a real cultural divide.

I remember
that at one point,

kids were standing outside
and chanting

"the Spielbergs
are dirty Jews."

I certainly
experienced being excluded

and being picked on
and discriminated against.

All I wanted to do
was fit in.

And by being Jewish, there was no
way I could fit into anything.

My grandfather would come
over to spend a week with us,

and I'd be playing in the
front yard seven houses down,

and my grandfather
would stand on our front porch

and yell my Hebrew name,
"Shmuel!"

As loud
as he could, "Shmuel!"

And all my friends would say, "Is he
talking to you? That's your house."

And I immediately denied
that that was me.

"No, he must be calling
somebody else."

"Is your name Shmuel?"

And all my friends
started laughing.

"Shmuel?
What's Shmuel?"

And meanwhile,
in the background,

you can hear
my grandfather yelling

with a Russian accent,
"Shmuel!"

Steve did not
want to be Jewish.

He didn't want to be Jewish
because it made us

too different
from everybody.

And the "Father Knows Best"
family

is an assimilated family.

And I think
he really yearned for that.

I began to deny
my Jewishness,

you know, began to deny

everything that I had
accepted as a child

and was not
willing to accept

if it was going
to make me a pariah.

I was ashamed of myself.

I still feel ashamed
of myself

even remembering
that long stretch of my life

where I didn't want
to be Jewish anymore.

When I first met Kate,

something that only happens
in the movies

happened to me.

It's a terrible cliché,
but bells began ringing.

It was love at first sight.
It really was.

There was something
that was

so both self-assured
about Katie

and reassuring for me.

There was
a kind of in-syncness.

We could talk
about anything,

and I couldn't get her
off my mind.

Kate came into
my world, in my life,

with a deep fascination
with the traditions

and the depth
of the history of Judaism.

And she really wanted
to marry me as a Jew.

So, she converted to Judaism
just before we got married.

She said she always felt
like she was coming home.

She always felt this was
where she was meant to be.

And so, as she studied Judaism
and got into it,

it brought Steve back around
to appreciating it.

Kate brought
something to Steven

that I don't think Steven
believed he could ever have.

She is so dedicated
to the idea of family

in its, you know,
purest essence

that not only
did it bring him,

I think, a happiness
he never thought he'd have,

but I suspect
it contributed

to his growth
as an artist.

In 1982, Sid
Sheinberg gave me the book

of "Schindler's List"
to read.

He felt it was my destiny
to make this movie.

He was tenacious
about getting me

to pay attention to it,
not to give up on it.

I think
he was intimidated

by the thought
of making it.

He had the book
for over 10 years

before he was ready
to do it.

And he just said,
"I'll know when it's time."

You know, if anybody
pushed him on it,

"I'll know
when it's time."

And then the time came.

On my first day, we
were outside the gates of Auschwitz.

5:30 in the morning,
bitterly, bitterly cold.

And hundreds of extras

dressed up in those
horrible striped pajamas

and German guards

and real Alsatian dogs,
real nasty dogs.

No! No!

Nothing could prepare me
for my first visit to Auschwitz.

Nothing prepared me
for that.

I wanted to shoot where the
story actually took place,

all the actual locations,

but I realized at that point
when I went to Poland

for the first time
that I was playing with fire.

That's horrible.

He was like someone
whose skin had been torn off.

He was just
so vulnerable,

pacing up and down
all the time.

I could tell
how important

this subject matter
and this film was to him.

He was telling a story
of his family, his tribe,

so I was aware of the weight
of the subject matter.

I said to the crew,
"This isn't a documentary,

but we are documenting things
that actually took place

in the place that
you're standing right now."

And I said also, you know,
"Those of us who are Jewish,

you know, would never have
been able to stand here,

you know, in 1943."

I knew this
couldn't be just another movie

and it couldn't be anything like
anything I had ever directed before.

I had to approach
the material

and I had to approach
the location

with a great deal
of reverence,

and I had to make this
a very quiet, quiet production.

We were shooting
on hallowed, sacred ground.

Everywhere we shot
in Kraków

felt like we were shooting
in a cemetery.

And it changed my entire
approach to cinema.

I... that film
looks different

than anything I had ever
done before that.

I tried to do it with no fancy
tricks, no fancy lenses,

no big Hollywood
sweeping cranes.

I tried to take
all the tools

with which I made
so many of my films

and just chuck them
out the window.

I never handheld anything,
but I wanted to handhold

as much of "Schindler's List"
as I possibly could.

I just wanted to create
for all of us

the feeling that we were
absolutely there at the time.

Goodbye Jews!

Goodbye Jews!
Goodbye Jews!

I'm just wondering is the synagogue...

...a good background,

or is the park
a good background,

because this is
kind of interesting here.

Steven said, "I feel
like I'm directing my first movie.

I'm not storyboarding
anything."

And I think that gave him
an adrenaline

or something
that we all felt.

A fire, an alertness.

I've never felt the same level
of energy and focus.

He seems
to breathe cinema.

I wouldn't say
he's an intellectual director.

I think he feels things
intuitively and emotionally.

...and coverage up
like that.

He was kind of like
an abstract painter

who has his canvass

and has a palette
of extraordinary colors

but just doesn't know
what color

to put
on that screen first.

But once he's committed
to that color,

he was just firing
on all cylinders.

And there was literally
times he was running,

physically running,
with that camera

because a lot of the stuff,
he shot himself.

Handheld camera.

He'd be running
up and down,

saying, "Come on,
come with me, quick,"

as the idea
was forming in his head.

And we'd all be running
after him, "What? What?"

He'd be inspired.
He saw something.

We were all
struggling with the incomprehensible

as characters
and as actors.

But we put one foot in front
of the other in our mandate

to, as Elie Wiesel says,
tell stories.

We took on the mantle

of actor-warriors,
if you like.

Because if you soften
anything with sentiment,

you lessen the blow that
the audience have got to feel

and got to reel under.

In the liquidation
of the ghetto scene,

I knew I had
to serve the story.

I remembered my lines,
but I was in deep shock.

No acting.

The beautifully
orchestrated chaos

was unrepeatable
or unforgettable.

Oskar Schindler
was a gregarious man.

He was
a second-rate businessman.

Bit of a shady character,
you know?

A man about town, loved the
women, loved his booze.

A bon vivant,
that's what he was.

And he did
this extraordinary thing.

He saved
over 1,100 Jewish lives.

There was something
indescribably mysterious

about this character.

It was impossible
to really understand

why he did what he did.

But we decided
just to let the audience

work that out
for themselves.

I was a smoker at the time.

Steve was not a smoker,
but in the close-ups,

he would start
to tell me how to smoke.

He'd say, "Okay,
you're looking at the table.

You see three of these
high-ranking Nazi guys.

Take a drag
of your cigarette."

"No, no. Do it again.

Keep your fingers there.
Take a drag.

Let the smoke
curl up your face.

Do it again.

Okay, now take your hand away
very, very slowly."

So, he was basically
telling me how to breathe.

I remember sharing it
with Ben Kingsley

later on that night
or the next day.

I said, "Ben, I just... if every
scene's gonna be like that,

I'm a fucking puppet,
you know?

I don't want
to be a puppet.

I'm 41 years of age."

And I remember
Ben so well.

He said,
"A great conductor...

needs a good soloist.

So just trust that.

Just go
into his direction.

Don't fight against it.
Just go into it."

And that's what I did.

I just opened myself
for Steven, you know?

My father was
fond of saying,

"You need three things
in life...

a good doctor,
a forgiving priest,

and a clever accountant."

The first two...

I've never had
much use for.

But the third?

Itzhak Stern
was the character

that I was closest to
in my understanding of him.

Just pretend,
for Christ's sake.

And I said to Ben, "You're the
conscience of Oskar Schindler.

You're also my window

into my insight
into Oskar Schindler."

I'm trying to thank you.

I'm saying I couldn't
have done this without you.

Anything I can
glean from Schindler himself,

I think a lot of it is gonna
come from how you look at him.

You're welcome.

There are very,
very few directors

who respect stillness
as much as Steven.

He's gonna catch
every single gesture

you offer to the camera,
and he's going to use it.

His intuition for something real
and present is very, very strong.

He wanted to avoid clichés
about Nazis,

and, in terms of performance, I
understood it on my first day.

You know, the thing about Amon
having a cough... "Ahem, excuse me,"

and giving him sort of banal human
failings, touches like that.

Do you have any
questions, sir?

Yeah, why is the top down?
I'm fucking freezing.

There were ways in which, through
performance and filming,

you can amp up
and signal "bad guy."

And I think he wanted,
quite rightly,

to say,
"No, man doing job.

- You decide what you think."
- I have an idea.

How about just lighting
their mouths, nothing else?

I was just going...
you know...

no, him, I want to light
just from the top, you know,

so we get some shadows
here, just like...

Okay, I just want to make sure
we're not being too on the nose

with the... you know, the
badness of the character

by having
a straight-down light.

Everything we do in this
medium is about light and shadow,

how the cinematographer lights
the actors, lights the set.

If you look
at "Schindler's List,"

Amon Goeth was always
lit beautifully.

He always had
that beautiful front light.

You know, the guy
was very clear.

There was no mystery
in him.

You don't have
to enhance his evilness,

if you may say,
by lighting.

Now, if you look
at Oskar Schindler,

that was
a confused individual.

He came to Poland
to make money,

so it's always glamorous,
but always shadowy.

And then as the movie's progressing,
he gets more frontal light.

The shadows disappear.

They say you are good.

Because he's
learning who he is.

The little girl
in red actually happened.

Schindler on horseback watching
these people being rounded up.

He did spot this
little girl in a red coat.

Of all the carnage
that's happening,

he can't take his eyes
off this little girl

meandering
down the street.

He couldn't take
his eyes off of her

and wonder why
is she not being taken

along with
everybody else.

And, of course, the answer
was, "Well, she will be taken.

May not be
in the next few minutes,

but she's not
going to survive."

During the
liquidation of the ghetto,

when they were taking people
and putting them in trucks

and shooting old people
in the streets,

they were
leaving her alone.

Somehow,
the most obvious target

was not being
apprehended.

And, to me, it was less about
what turned Oskar Schindler,

and it was more that the world
turned a blind eye on the Holocaust

and the industrialized process
of wholesale murder.

Can you believe this?

As if I don't have enough to
do, they come up with this?

I have to find every rag
buried up here and burn it.

The party's over, Oskar.

They're closing us down, sending
everybody to Auschwitz.

- When?
- I don't know.

As soon as I can arrange
the shipments.

Maybe 30, 40 days.
That ought to be fun.

So, that little girl in red,

for me, symbolizes
the Holocaust

and all
of its monstrous evil,

and no one did anything about
it when they could have.

I remember I put together
a scene, very hard, emotionally.

And Steven comes in
that night.

We went out to where
he was staying

and I start running
the scene.

And he looks at it. "Hold on, Mike.
I can't do it."

He's like... he went like,
"I can't do it.

It's too tough."
And he left.

I just remember getting
home and just falling apart.

And Kate was on the set
with me a lot.

We would cry together
many, many times.

She really kept me going
through that whole production.

We were four months in Kraków.
A long time.

It was, emotionally, the
hardest movie I've ever made.

The film is not about

the Holocaust
with a capital "H."

It is a particular window
into the past.

And here,
a mainstream director

had crafted
a motion picture

that would in fact
finally reach a large audience,

including people that
simply may never have known

the word "Auschwitz."

About three quarters
of the way through the shoot,

Steven had this idea
about the end of the film.

He wanted to fly us
to Jerusalem.

We would shoot a scene
at Schindler's grave.

I needed there to be

some testimony
built into the movie

that says this story
actually happened.

Brave thing to do.

These are
the real people.

That was a pivotal
moment in Steven's life.

He recognized
he couldn't take

any of the profits
from the film.

He wanted to give
something back,

so he started what became
the Shoah Foundation,

documenting that oral history
and capturing history

in a way that allowed people
not to forget.

The Shoah Foundation
is a way of trying to hear

the faintest echo
of the stories that we've lost.

So, it's connected to him
as a storyteller,

which is in his DNA.

They started running toward
the tracks and they were shot.

It was
probably the last patrol of the day.

They were not supposed
to be there anymore.

And of course
they asked for papers,

but my grandfather didn't have any.

And they took them.
They took them.

He's got thousands and
thousands of testimonies,

and not just
about the Holocaust.

About Rwanda,
about Bosnia, you know?

And it's amazing, this legacy
that "Schindler's List"

has spawned
through Steven.

The experience of
making "Schindler's List"

made me reconcile
with all of the reasons,

the vain, glorious reasons,
I hid from my Jewishness.

And it made me so proud
to be a Jew.

There are periods of
time in moviemaking history

where you have
a collision of events

that innovates and creates
something new.

And "Jurassic Park"
was one of those moments.

- Keep it there.
- It was the beginning

of, really,
the digital era

where the central characters
were digitally created.

No one had ever
gone there before that way.

Come on!

Steven said to me,

"I want 28-foot to 30-foot
dinosaurs on the set

that the actors
can interact with,

and I want them
to be able to run."

There were going to be
at least 60 wide shots

with 60 head-to-toe
dinosaurs

that could not
operate mechanically.

They had to run.
They had to perform.

They had to twist and turn.
They had to be real.

So, I went off to start
to talk to experts

in the area of prosthetics
and theme parks

to figure out
how we're gonna do this.

And, of course,
everybody said to me,

"We can build these things,
but they can't run."

So, I went back to Steven
and I said, "They can't run."

He said, "Well,
they have to run."

- Okay, pushing team, move in there.
- Move in.

So, all this
development was going on,

and simultaneous to that, Dennis
Muren called me and he said,

"I'm working on something
with the computer

that I think could be
extraordinary."

Aah!

Lock the opening!

And we flew up to ILM,

and we went
in this little office,

and there was a computer,
and Dennis said, "Watch this."

And he hit a button,

and there was
a dinosaur running.

This is all in the computer.

There's no models,
no cameras, or anything.

When we looked at them,

it was like nothing
you had ever seen before.

And it was one
of those primal moments

- where you suddenly realize, oh, my God...
- Oh, my God.

Oh, my God,
we're there.

This is the future.

I could not
believe my eyes.

Couldn't believe it.

They were alive.
They were real.

And it was so exciting,
we all leapt to our feet

because we had never seen
anything like it.

I'm not exaggerating
when I say

looking at that test
was like the moment

when sound came to movies.

There was this new tool
that was going to be huge,

and you could just tell.

It was that
much of an experiment.

It felt that wild.

And watching, you know,
their brains at work

as we were shooting,
and how'd they adjust a shot,

and how giddy
Steven would get,

you get caught up in the dreams
he was building and the magic.

During the scenes where
we're first seeing the dinosaur,

he puts the camera on me
and says, "Okay, Jeff,

now you're looking
at the thing.

Okay, so look at it.

Yeah, keep going.
Keep rolling.

Is it real?
Is it a trick?

And now, for no reason at
all, you start to laugh.

Keep laughing
a little bit.

Laugh a little bit more.
That's it.

Now you're stunned
by it again

and you just get
very still.

Okay, that's it.
Okay, I got what I need.

Let's go. Let's move
on." Like that.

He knows exactly
what he needs.

Weapon, you know,
guy face... all faces,

weapons, faces,
and then right to Bob.

- Get in there! - Spielberg: "Jurassic
Park" is a cautionary tale.

We stand on the shoulders
of giants

to create
the next great thing,

and yet we take no responsibility
for our own creations.

But it's an old, timeworn
science fiction story.

It's what brought Godzilla
up from the depths.

You mess with atomic
energy, you get Godzilla.

There's a lot of
dark themes in "Jurassic Park"

that are about, you know,
unleashing Pandora's box.

As it turns out, it's not
only genetic engineering,

which is a theme
in the movie,

it's actually
the digital revolution

coming out right
from behind the fence.

This opened up a whole
new world in storytelling

because you can do
anything you want.

You're not limited
by plastics or metal

or gravity
or anything.

If you can imagine it,
you can do it.

It was the end of an era,
no question about it.

And it was the beginning
of a whole nother era.

Steven is a master of putting
the effects shots in for a purpose.

They're there
to advance the story

and to make it
a different journey

than anybody's
seen before.

And it could be
a spaceship,

it could be a dinosaur,
it could be an alien landing,

it could be, you know, a red
coat that somebody's wearing

when they're running through
a black-and-white movie.

It's part of the emotional landscape

of the story he's telling.

I've never seen
a single moment

in a Spielberg movie
in which you feel

that the technology
is crushing the story.

And that's really hard.

I mean, these moments,
which have to feel

spontaneous and real
on-screen...

There are
200 people around,

and half of it is being
created six months later

and half of it
was six months before.

When he made
"Jurassic Park,"

there was no guarantee
that it would work.

That could easily
have been a disaster.

But it was the right ratio of
excitement and fear for Steven.

Doing a movie has to
scare you a little bit.

Otherwise,
you're not pushing it.

"Schindler's List,"
which seems...

clearly, that should have
been a movie now...

was a three-hour black-and-white
movie about the Holocaust.

In the halls of Universal,
that was... that was crazy.

That was not...

who green lights
that movie, you know?

It was as big a risk as CG dinosaurs.
Bigger.

You're saying "All my credibility
as a fantasy filmmaker...

I'm gonna risk all that
on CG dinosaurs.

And all my credibility
as an artist,

I'm gonna put
on the line, too.

And I'm gonna do it all
over the course of 12 months.

Fingers crossed."

They seem obvious now.

They were by no means
guarantees.

And that must have been
a really terrifying period,

because you really are pushing all your
chips into the middle of the table

at that point.

Of course, it turned out
very well for Steven,

giving him
one of the strangest

and most astoundingly successful
years of any film director, ever.

This is my greatest
technological masterpiece...

the Schpiel-Borg 2000.

I spared no expense.

Your play pal, Pinky,

is actually an extremely
advanced cybernetic clone

of one of Hollywood's
most powerful figures.

And if his box office numbers
are any indication,

he has the potential
to become ruler of the world.

Steven is the best-known
director in the world, easily.

- Listen.
- What?

Steven, you've made
so many films.

When are you
gonna do the big one?

Wow.
What do you mean "big one?"

Something that clicks
with the public.

"Something that clicks
with the public."

The guy's
an unmistakable force

in the business
of making movies.

Running a company,
being an executive producer,

being a producer,
and being a director.

For a filmmaker,
you can't have a better producer

than one of the greatest
directors in the world.

He really nurtures
young talent coming up.

It's a pretty amazing
roster.

He's also a major figure
in the television business.

He started a restaurant.

Dive!
Submarine sandwiches.

The man was, like, doing
27 things at once

and being perfectly
unselfconscious about it.

How many hats does that man wear?
It's impossible.

He once told me,
"When I'm at a buffet,

I like to have too much
food on my plate."

He will be
in production on a movie,

doing preproduction
for another movie,

and editing yet a third.

He's got a lot
of different channels.

You know, me,
I have a list.

You know,
"change light bulbs,"

and that's on there
for a week.

No, he gets
a lot accomplished.

Three of Hollywood's
richest, most powerful boy wonders

teamed up today to create
a movie studio,

Hollywood's first
major new independent studio

in almost half a century.

I don't think Steven
really fears anything.

He's always ready to go
and do something new.

No one
can consume information,

be in so many places
so effortlessly.

It used to make me crazy
if a screenplay came in,

that, you know,
we were all waiting for,

no matter what,
I could never get home

and get it read
before him.

To be that talented,

to be that successful
almost in a mythological way,

your jaw drops.

Many times
you see the person

incorporating their success
into their personality.

There's a sense
of self-importance.

And it's the opposite
with Steven.

Steven's like a guy who works
for Steven Spielberg.

Shark!

A day of
pure bliss, for me,

is a day where
I'm with my family.

I've got my eyes closed,
they're swimming in the pool,

- and I just listen to their voices.
- One more time.

That's great, Theo.
That was the best one.

I never knew I was
going to have a big family.

That took me
completely by surprise.

Kate never thought she'd have
a big family either.

So, the natural evolution
in our life was a gift.

Jessica is my oldest,

and then Max,
and then Theo after that,

and then Sasha,
and then Sawyer,

and then Mikaela,
and then Destry.

Whoo-hoo!

Kate is a
force in my life.

There's such an honesty
about her

and an awareness
of the world.

And I think
the authenticity

of the kinds of movies
I began to make

after Katie and I
got together

had to do with bringing
a kind of truth into my life

where truth began
to upstage make-believe.

Okay, turn the camera on.

- Roll.
- Okay, do it.

Marker.

You know, I've turned down

a lot of very successful
movie franchises

that 10 years before I would've
jumped at the chance to direct.

But it wasn't
the kind of legacy

I want to leave behind
for my kids.

Steven wanted
"Saving Private Ryan"

to be a different kind of very
tactile and personal war movie.

We had no idea
that Omaha Beach

was gonna be what it was like
when we started.

He did not describe
anything to us.

He was playing
with our sense of confusion

and panic and fear,

capturing the moment
of our own shock,

or our surprise,
or our own blankness.

And the difference between standing
around before we're shooting

and saying, "Hey, ready to do this?
Nice to meet you. Here we go.

Can you swim?
You can't swim?

You better, because you're
in a Steven Spielberg movie.

You better..."
So, we're talking like that.

And then it opened up

and all the powers of physical
moviemaking went berserk.

Over the side!

Over the side, boys!

I tried very, very
hard to put the audience

as close to the experience
as I possibly knew how to do

so there wouldn't ever be
a safe feeling

in the audience.

And when you narrow
that distance...

if you're successful
in narrowing the distance,

then the audience
really becomes those characters.

Come on.

In "Saving Private
Ryan," Spielberg understood

the expressionistic
possibilities of sound.

You could hear the
bullets streaking along.

You can hear them
penetrate the flesh

and ravage these bodies.

You felt what it was like
to have your ears ringing

in the midst of this
and be completely disoriented.

The sheer
intensity of that scene,

the visceral element,

not just metaphorically,
but literally,

is like nothing... nothing that
had been put on film before.

I decided to shoot
the entire Omaha Beach sequence

in complete continuity,

not knowing
what was gonna come next.

And all my cameramen
were given instruction

to be spontaneous
in what they decided to shoot,

just like a documentary
cameraman would.

And for, like, 27 days,
we literally took the beach

as filmmakers,
one yard at a time.

Mama! Mama!

"Saving Private
Ryan" revealed

certain visceral truths
about war

that people were not
gonna learn from books.

They were not gonna learn
from documentaries.

That was him
at the height of his powers

doing something
that nobody else could do.

The first
time we talked about the movie,

he said, "I can't wait to shoot that machine
gun nest at the radar installation."

He had already mapped
this thing out in his mind,

and when we got to the location,
there was one problem...

the sun wasn't
in the right place.

Steven had thought
the set was built this way,

but it was built
this way.

So, he could not shoot it,
because the sun

was not going to give him
the light that he wanted.

And he was mad, perhaps with
himself or perhaps with someone

who didn't tell him
what the compass points were.

So, he went on a walk,
and when he comes back,

he says, "Okay, I know
how I'm gonna shoot it."

And it's a different
perspective

from any other assault
that we had shot in the film.

And if you're not Steven,

if you don't have
this lifetime

of cinematic language
in your head,

that's a different
kind of day.

But because his eye
is so connected to his brain

and every movie
that he's ever seen

and every movie
that he's ever made,

he just went out
and said,

"Here's how we're gonna
do this, and that's it."

Incredible.

"Saving Private Ryan"
was in honor of the veterans,

and I think a bit of a homage
to my father

who flew missions
during WWII.

He wasn't in Europe.
He was in India and Burma.

When I was a kid, my dad was
telling WWII stories all the time.

His veteran friends
would come over to the house

and I'd listen to them
tell war stories.

So, WWII,
that greatest generation,

became something that I wished
I could be part of.

Steven had a complicated
relationship with his father,

but he was starting
to reconnect and realize

that his first impressions
of a lot of the things he had

weren't necessarily true.

It was complex for me
for a long time,

but at least
I had a art form

that I could
filter it through.

At least I had that.

If movies did
anything for me, it...

I've avoided therapy
because movies are my therapy.

Junior?

- Yes, sir.
- And this father-son obsession

I've had in my movies
obviously speaks

to a great deal of feelings
that I've been carrying with me

that I want to unburden
myself of, and I have.

Do you remember the last
time we had a quiet drink?

Huh?

I had a milkshake.

Hmm? What did
we talk about?

We didn't talk.

We never talked.

The absent father

has haunted Steven
throughout his life,

and he has fictionalized it
in all kinds of ways on film.

It's the heart of him.

Although I
liked the movies,

I noticed the absence
of the father

quite significantly.

For a long time,
Steven was very mad at me.

There he is.

- Get a hug? - Arnold: I was
hurt by it, but quietly hurt.

Confusing handshake?
Kick in the teeth?

I didn't
broach it with Steven.

I just ate it up
a little bit

and hurt a little bit.

- - I thought
I had lost you, boy.

I thought
you had too, sir.

My dad and I finally
resolved our differences,

and we're probably closer now
than we ever were before.

When he made
"Saving Private Ryan,"

he said,
"I made this for my dad."

And that was wonderful.

That made me feel warm
right here.

Steven has
always had a big vision

of what movies can be.

He's an American moviemaker.

And it's not
starry-eyed patriotism.

Animals!

He is drawn
to all the themes

that are inherent
in the American character

and the American society
and how it developed.

There are people struggling

in one way or another
for freedom in these movies.

Give... us free.

He doesn't take freedom
for granted.

Liberty and equality,

the Constitution,

and the rights
of the individual.

He's evolved
as a filmmaker.

"Amistad" and "Lincoln"
and "Bridge of Spies"

are all about
the rule of law.

They're all about
the rights of even people

who are either brought here
against their will

or come here to be a soldier
in an opposing army

and are caught.

The law fully covers
everyone.

We were supposed to show

he had a capable defense,
which we did.

Why are you citing the
goddamn Constitution at me?

Tom, if you look me
in the eye

and tell me
we don't have grounds

for an appeal,
I'll drop it right now.

I'm not saying that.
You know what I'm saying.

Tom is saying there's a
cost to these things.

That's right.

A cost to both
your family and your firm.

I really
believe in this country,

and I always have.

And it just resonated
throughout my work...

wanting to tell
American stories,

wanting to tell stories about
principled, ethical people

who, against all advice

and against most everyone
else's better judgment,

just proceed to do
the right thing.

I'm sure that sounds like
I'm this kind of, you know,

idealist or some sort
of a patriot,

but I am a patriot.

And I'm somewhat
of an idealist, too.

Say all we done
is show the world

that democracy
isn't chaos.

That there is a great
invisible strength

in a people's union.

Say we've shown
that a people can endure

awful sacrifice
and yet cohere.

Mightn't that save at least
the idea of democracy,

to aspire to?

Eventually to become
worthy of?

The first
thing that you have to overcome

is the reluctance
to even approach Lincoln

because he's such
a mighty figure.

His experience as a president
was in, you know,

one of the greatest crises
that this country's ever known.

And so, undoubtedly,
of course,

he made decisions that were
extremely unpalatable

to many, many people.

We are absolutely guaranteed
to lose the whole thing.

We don't need a goddamned
abolition amendment.

Leave the Constitution
alone!

...peace commissioners
appear today, or...

I can't listen
to this anymore.

I can't accomplish
a goddamn thing

of any human
meaning or worth

until we cure
ourselves of slavery

and end
this pestilential war!

And whether any of you
or anyone else knows it,

I know I need this!

This amendment
is that cure!

Steven worked a long time

to find where the story was
to tell it.

And it took guts for Steven
to make a movie about Abraham Lincoln

in which Lincoln shares top billing
with the House of Representatives.

He had
faith that if he told a story

that is about democracy and it's
about messiness and politics...

and people are on different
sides of the issue,

and people who were Democrats
then are Republicans now,

and Republicans now
were Democrats then,

was pretty confusing
for people to get a sense

right away
of what the story was.

But he somehow thought
if the American people

can feel this man
and feel what he was doing,

they'll see what democracy is
when it really works.

A motion has been
made to bring the bill

for the 13th Amendment
to a vote.

- Do I hear a second?
- I second the motion.

So moved, so ordered.

And in the end,
it's not Lincoln's triumph

that's pushed to the fore
in the film.

I think what's really
pushed to the fore

is that it's a triumph
of democracy.

The part assigned to me
is to raise the flag.

And when up, it'll be for
the people to keep it up.

That's my speech.

Oh, yeah!

From about the time

of the millennium
in Spielberg's career,

there is something, whether it's
personal, political, historical,

that pushed him in a more
adventurous and a darker direction.

I fundamentally
don't buy

that he has
a pessimistic worldview

or that he suddenly changed
and has a more dubious opinion

of the human race,
but still,

there's been
an alteration.

He has been willing
to go places

that he would not have gone
in his earlier films.

All right, Howard Marks.
Where are you?

It was a very complicated
story, "Minority Report."

A very dark story,
actually.

You know, democracy,
freedom of choice,

corruption.

That dark,
futuristic dystopian tone

was so compelling for me
at that time.

Tennessee
Williams says that artists

are like the canaries
in the coal mine.

And Steven has
an uncanny knack

for feeling what's going on
in the world around him

and what needs to be said
at its moment.

I think he's
a very present filmmaker.

By mandate of the District of
Columbia Precrime Division,

I'm placing you under arrest for the
future murder of Sarah Marks and Donald...

The film anticipated
the whole post-9/11 mentality

of arresting people
before they can commit crimes

and preventive detention
and so on.

But the movie that I made

that was a real statement
about 9/11

was "War of the Worlds."

For me, it began
with what would really happen

if we were invaded

and everything
that we thought

made us invulnerable
to invasion

was all wrong?

There's a sequence
where Cruise's character

runs through the streets and the
ray is turning people to dust

and some of that dust
is in his hair.

And he comes home
and sees himself in shock

and realizes that that's
remains that are in his hair.

Oh!

Steven handled
that with great tact.

9/11 was so much a part
of our national psyche,

you didn't have to do much
to evoke the shock we all felt

and the helplessness
we all felt at being attacked.

Good afternoon.
I'm Jim McKay speaking to you

live at this moment
from ABC headquarters

just outside the Olympic Village
in Munich, West Germany.

The peace of what is... would've
been called the "Serene Olympics"

was shattered just before
dawn this morning about 5:00.

Nobody
was expecting Steven Spielberg,

maybe the world's
most famous Jewish artist,

to weigh in
on the Middle East

because
it's such a minefield,

and Steven
is not a sensationalist

in the sense
of wanting to create,

you know, firestorms
of controversy.

This is building number 31.

At this moment,

eight or nine terrified
living human beings

are being held prisoner.

I felt I could
not make this one-sided.

And so, I knew it would be
controversial from the very get-go.

It was that story
of the group of Mossad agents

who were assembled
to avenge the deaths

of the Israeli athletes
at the Munich Olympics.

It was their job to go after
a list of targeted men

who were part
of a terrorist group.

And it was their job to, one
by one, assassinate them.

This movie was trying
to affect and turn on a debate.

Is vengeance the answer? Does
it actually solve anything?

If you continue
the cycle of violence

and cycle of blood,
then...

that's what they'll be
and nothing else.

Steven was very keen
to tell a human story,

that these were men
and not superheroes.

Their indecision
and their mistakes

and their... is the reality
of what happened, you know?

Life isn't a "James Bond" movie.

Are you...
are you Wael Zwaiter?

He said yes already.
He already said yes.

What are we doing?

What do I do?

Do you know
why we're here?

In "Munich," Spielberg
is trying to come to terms

with the war
against terror.

And he doesn't know
where he is on it.

He's... he supports it,

but he's also
disturbed by it.

And so,
that's an example

of a kind of thoughtfulness
that goes into his work.

I mean, he's the Hollywood
equivalent of a public intellectual.

I remember when we shot
the telephone bomb sequence.

In that one dolly shot,

you got a complete sense of the
geography of the entire scene.

It took three
days to shoot the scene.

Everything had to be
from points of view.

There was the point of view
of the guys in the car.

So now we wait
for the red light.

There was the point of
view of the man in the phone booth

who was gonna dial
the number.

There was a point of view
of Avner.

It's a triangle
of shots.

Geography is one of the most
important things to me,

so the audience
isn't thrown into chaos

trying to figure out
the story you're telling.

The audience needs to be
clearer than you.

- Is the truck blocking the signal?
- No.

Will the remote
still work?

I can create suspense

if the audience knows
where all the players are,

and they know
what the stakes are,

and they know
that there's a ticking clock.

Like the mom and daughter
that get into the car

and then wind up returning
because she forgot the glasses.

The suspense
of that sequence

is letting the audience
know geographically

where everybody is
at all times.

Allô? Allô?

Allô?

Stop!

Stop, stop. Abort.

You're in the hands of somebody who
will always show you what you need to see

in order to understand, on a
narrative level, what's happening.

And you'll also see
a lot of things

that will help you understand
on deeper levels as well.

And that sort of narrative
device that's in his head

is, you know, I think
almost without precedent.

- Oui?
- Mahmoud Hamshari?

Yes.

We talked a great
deal about the politics

of making a movie
like this.

How do you make a film
that allows

for the possibility
of understanding

why these men who murdered
the athletes

did what they did?

Not in any way
to excuse it,

but to try
and comprehend it.

You kill Jews, and the world feels bad
for them and thinks you're animals.

Yes, but then
the world will see

how they've made us
into animals.

They'll start
to ask questions

about the conditions
in our cages.

The movie was
perceived to be suffering

from a sense
of moral equivalence,

which is really the bravest
thing about the movie.

It's looking for aspects of humanity
on both sides of this conflict.

Ambiguity is something that you don't
normally associate with Spielberg's films,

and "Munich" is the film
where he went the furthest

in the bluntness
and the ferocity

with which he approached
that subject.

Did we accomplish
anything at all?

Every man we killed
has been replaced by worse!

Why cut my fingernails?
They'll grow back.

Did we kill to replace the terrorist
leadership or the Palestinian leadership?

You tell me
what we've done.

You killed them for the sake of a
country you now choose to abandon.

The end of this film
is not celebratory...

rejoicing in the death
of the enemy.

It is incredibly quiet,

and only
on the second viewing

did I realize
the Twin Towers

are revealed at the end.

We did several
takes of that scene

without having
that space in the frame,

and then we did one take

with having that space
in the frame,

knowing that he would put
the Towers in.

Steven knew that he's making
a controversial movie.

He just didn't want
to push the boundaries.

But then at the end,
he realized,

"You know what?
I'm already doing it.

Why not just go and say what
I want to say, you know?"

I made the choice
because I wanted people to say

"Munich" is the context

for problems that exist
in today's world

and basically are
threatening to all of us.

You know, history
is its own reminder

of how bad things
can get.

And if we don't
solve these problems,

they accumulate.

And you can't...
there's no rug big enough

to sweep
these problems under.

And eventually,
something is going to happen.

And so, "Munich"
is a prayer for peace,

but peace the hard way.

You know, peace by
discovering within yourself

your moral high ground.

All my films come
from the part of myself

that I really can't
articulate.

I certainly have
intuitive facilities,

but I don't really analyze those
or don't really question them.

It's like looking
a gift horse in the mouth,

and I'm almost superstitious that
if I start to question that,

it's gonna, you know,
fly away.

I don't think there's
any doubt that Steven's work

deals with specific themes
in his life,

which makes him
a real personal filmmaker.

Do you understand what we
are saying to you, Frank?

Your father and I
are getting a divorce.

And his express
through the images,

through the choice of story
and how he deals with character.

All of Steven's
sensibilities

were right in tune
with this young man's journey.

You're immediately
with this kid,

and no matter
what he does,

you know he's searching
for some way back

to repairing
this torn household.

- Have you tried to call her?
- No.

Why... why don't
you call her right now?

Dad, why don't you call
her right now? Here.

Dad, just call her.

Call her for me.
You call her.

You tell her I have two first-class
tickets to go see her son...

Your mother's married now
to my friend Jack Barnes.

- They have a house in Long Island.
- Oh, no.

So often in
Spielberg's movies

the relationships
that matter

are the relationships
between parent and children

or members of a family
or members of a community

bound by affection
and loyalty and responsibility.

It's a huge theme that comes
up again and again and again

in different phases
of his own life

and in different stories.

Whoa! Hey!

Ronnie, hold it.
Hold it. Wa...

Hold it.

Family is a
big element in my life,

which is why
so many of my stories

are about separation
and then reunification.

Even "Lincoln" is about
separation and reunification.

Barry!

I've made
a lot of movies

about a family
disintegrating

and then a family finding
common ground to reunite.

There's a sense that everything,
including the natural world,

conspires to pull people

or beings apart
from one another

and then to return them.

It's like
Shakespeare's romances.

There's a deep faith
in his work that...

what's lost will in
some way be restored.

And I think
he is searching for that

in almost all the films
that he's made.

Now slowly.

My mom and dad
have a relationship today

which a writer
in a storybook

would be accused
of exaggeration.

I feel very lucky that
after all these years apart,

my parents spend quality
time with each other.

If
you look at the first 18 years

of Steve's life
and now, current day,

you would not know that there
was a huge chunk in the middle,

that there was a divorce
and a separation,

a lot of tears, and another
man, and another wife,

and, you know, it looks like we
were one continuous, happy family.

We just lost the reels
to the home movies

in the middle of life.

Now she's back
in love with me.

Isn't that nice?

Oh, Leah.

Janusz, it'd be
a better two-shot.

If Dougie is here, okay,
then it's not such a spread.

- So, it's not a single. It's over here.
- No, no, it's a single.

When we start pulling back, Dougie
comes into the shot sooner.

And then we continue
with the move?

Yeah, we continue
with the move,

but right now
it looks like

- there's nothing in the center
but the window. - Got you.

Steven loves to be a
part of a big gang of people

and the company of filmmakers
who are making a movie.

It's a big, great club.
It's a big, great family.

Tom, action. I
think it defines Steven's filmmaking

in many,
many different ways

because Steven is grounded
and feels very safe

inside an environment
with family.

He likes
close relationships

with a few people
who he trusts

and he can open
his life up to.

And then he's very reluctant
to have anybody leave.

That's it right there.
It looks great.

We work for Steven.

He's the boss, but he
encourages people with talent

to use the talent,
to be brave with it,

to take risks,

because he wants to be
stimulated as a filmmaker,

but those who he works
with, you know.

And that's a really good
quality in a filmmaker.

He's very collaborative.

He uses his people over and
over again on the films

because we already speak
a shorthand to each other.

- We've all worked together.
- And they'd come on to full size...

He understands that
people and can serve him

and how to synchronize
his wishes with your own.

He would've made
a great general.

If you could
say that a film unit

can be like
a Special Forces film crew,

that's what he has.

His team works so fast,

so hard getting through
a lot every day.

Everybody on their feet,
applauding.

And I think
you could come to grief

very, very quickly
on Steven's set

if you weren't
very well prepared.

Everyone has to be.

And that creates
incredible energy.

I work with my
peeps, and I have for decades.

I mean, I don't know
what I would do without them.

Roll sound.
Roll!

I can't really have sanity

unless I have
familiarity.

And it's just
an extraordinary family

that I've been able to assemble
over all these years.

I love being
part of his tapestry,

so to speak, you know,
like "Fiddler on the Roof."

Michael Kahn
and I are blood brothers.

He started with me on "Close
Encounters of the Third Kind,"

and except for one time, he's edited
every movie I made since then.

Janusz Kaminski has done everything
since "Schindler's List."

But John Williams
is my oldest collaboration,

and I depend on Johnny more
than I've depended on anybody

to rewrite
my movies musically

and put them a rung higher
than I ever could reach.

You know, if I had
to go back and recast

the creative team
surrounding me,

I wouldn't be able to work
as often as I do.

It'd be impossible.

Steven looks
at movies constantly

and over and over
and over again,

referencing shots
and framing and ideas.

That's something Steven does
all the time.

Great filmmakers'
works live on to create

tremendous moments
of inspiration.

And so, one of the films
I still see every year

is "Lawrence of Arabia."

The shots,
the sheer vistas,

and the portrait
of such a complex character,

it's pure moviemaking.

Hey!

Hey! Hey! Hey!

Who are you?

Who are you?

Steven has always
wanted to work

in a kind of big, you know,
historical canvass like that,

and it took many movies
before he accomplished

that level
of masterly filmmaking.

Many years ago, Pauline
Kael gave me a really great review

on "Sugarland Express,"
but she said,

"Whatever's on the surface
might be all that is there.

There may be nothing
behind that."

And she was
absolutely right.

I hadn't grown up yet
through the movies.

That was going to come
in time.

Take a look at what he's
done over close to 50 years.

There's certainly
a lot of variety.

There are some things he's
done that haven't worked,

but there is absolutely
nobody like him

and no film career
trajectory

that is anything like his
in the history of film.

He speaks cinema
as if it's his native language.

He is so fluent in it
that he does things

that nobody else
would dare to do

and they are
instantly recognizable

as things
that are purely his.

He has a dynamic
sense of real filmmaking.

I'm talking
about filmmaking of...

in the great narrative
tradition of American cinema.

Steven was blessed

in that he could be
commercial

and he could do art.

That's why
I always compare him

to a kind
of George Gershwin,

because Gershwin
could write a Broadway show

or he could write
"Concerto in F."

He could both,
and very few people can do both.

And Steven can do both.

And that's a talent
you have to be born with.

You think of
that young kid in Arizona,

in the desert,
watching movies,

watching television
incessantly,

one day sneaking his way
into a studio,

and manifesting
his own destiny.

It's a pretty fantastic
Hollywood story.

He's found a way
to take his view of the world,

his wishful thinking,
his optimism,

and also his uncanny sense
of the thrill,

and sort of galvanize
the whole thing

into whatever the story is
he's telling.

It's authentically him.

Steven has a part of him

that wants to see
something good

in the darkest
of the dark

or that wants
to just have a playtime.

And there may be people
who say he's not edgy enough

or he's not bitter enough,
he's not quirky enough,

or he's not dark enough,

but when it's all over
and said and done,

what Steven has left
is enormous.

To have both humor
and suspense

and adventure and heart

through his grand eyes
of storytelling

is a hell of a good thing.

Steven still
has an enormous appetite

for the work
that he does.

It's quite a rare thing.

You know, we all have,
probably, a shelf life.

Yes, we probably go
past that shelf life,

most of us,
without even knowing it.

But in his case, I think, till the
day he dies, he'll be doing work

that he feels absolutely
viscerally compelled to do.

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