My early comics are really reflective of being kind of a befuddled, single loser in the Bay Area, and I think having kids has been by far the most profound impact on me as a person and as an artist.
I'm lucky enough to live in London, which is a boiling pot of every kind of language and background and demographic and sexuality and gender, and yet most of what we're seeing in the cinema is not reflective of that.
When you seek out - or seek to avoid - your own reflection, the modern city becomes a hall of mirrors: car windows, reflective walls, and plate glass are everywhere, transmitting a cacophony of different versions of you - this one too short, that one too wide, another one with a sickly color you've never seen before.
My kid is seven years old and is learning to read and conjugate, but I don't agree with that kind of education because I feel that the concepts are not contextualized... it's interesting to try to make my kid a reflective boy, rather than just a repetitive boy, even if he doesn't agree with me.
Both Brutus and Hamlet are highly intellectual by nature and reflective by habit. Both may even be called, in a popular sense, philosophic; Brutus may be called so in a stricter sense.
There have always been two people jostling for control of my life, two totally opposite characters. The first one is super-confident, bulletproof, a showman, and an extrovert. He tries to make people laugh, messes about, gets into trouble, shrugs it off. The other character is withdrawn and reflective.
I'm trying to make work that is reflective and is encouraging of reflection.
Behavioral scientists distinguish between fast thinking and slow thinking. Fast thinking is represented in the mind's System 1: it is automatic, intuitive, and often emotional. Slow thinking, reflected in System 2, is deliberative and reflective; it likes statistics. It's hard to think of a purer System 1 candidate than Trump.