I live with a bunch of yuppies and models.

Mulberry Street was the beating heart of the Italian-American experience, but you don't find those gangsters now. I live with a bunch of yuppies and models.

As an old-time New Yorker, it's not that I miss the '70s and '80s or whatever. I miss the fact that there was a certain kind of energy that exists when people can live for nothing.

I was raised a Catholic and when you're raised a Catholic they don't teach you to think for yourself. You're taught not to think too deeply about things.

This is New York seen from the point of view of an outsider. The TV journalist is so famous that he's no longer part of the world. A limo takes him from his house in Brooklyn Heights to his job in mid-Manhattan, and he doesn't see anything outside the car until a rock smashes his window. I wondered about famous journalists: Who these guys are? What do they really feel and how much can they show their feelings?

I grew up in the late '50s. I came from a real place and needed to see the movies that were around then. We went to those movies young. We were lucky - between '67 and '73 was pretty much a golden age. You saw everything you could want to see; you got an education. Pasolini and Hitchcock, Godard. It was all happening at once; you saw the best, like Jean Vigo, who died so young. Tragic - such a good filmmaker.