[1999, on
Stanley Kubrick] In the early 1980s he was a funny, brilliant, well-read eater of Chinese sweet-and-sour ribs and an appreciative watcher of other people's movies, loyal to old friends, a tender-hearted animal lover, father, and husband, and of course a brilliant filmmaker. He liked dinner parties, and had the reaction of a shy foreigner to meeting well-known English people... People who have worked with him more recently say he was still the same. It is too bad that some have felt impelled, maybe by their love of mystery or from some unexpected resentment, to impose on Kubrick a cloak of misanthropy, reclusive malice, cruelty, solitude. Within the world he had created, his life was happy and complete.
