The middle-brow’s middle-brow. Always ‘that bearded recluse, the shy, indefatigable Stanley Kubrick’. Perennially mistreated by his countrymen, he sought refuge from the Hollywood machine in rural England, travelling everywhere by milk float in case of terrorist attack. Only the French truly understand him. His penchant for ordering repeated takes well beyond the point where they could be of any conceivable use has been labelled as egotistical bullying, but had Shelley Duvall not been reduced to a weeping wreck after being forced to open a door 253 times, where would she have found the resources to attack the role of Olive Oyl with such confident brio? He knew that the only way to get to the soul of a script is to make sure the interior lighting is just so. See GREENAWAY, Peter.