In 1958, I was shooting a movie in Florida, and I decided to go to Havana, Cuba, to see what it was like.

It was automatic. We were always on the same wavelength even before we started shooting.

I lose things. I am preoccupied. I am misty. Eyeglasses? I go through eyeglasses like tissue.

No one could have imagined a place like Havana, Cuba. It is absurdly contradictory, always arguing with itself over whether it is audacious or meek, heroic or stupid, beautiful or abhorrent.

Cuba is such a beautiful country, and everywhere you go, there's music and people dancing - especially in Havana.

In the theater, you didn't have any marks. Your instincts in rehearsal told you what the blocking was. On film, they reversed it. They decided ahead of time what your instincts were, before you even arrived.