Quotes of the Day

When he agreed to be this year's Raindance Film Festival director in residence, British director Ken Russell was asked which of his films he thought best represented his body of work. Out of the 80 or so films he's made, he picked Savage Messiah, a 1972 biopic of sculptor Henri Gaudier that proved so impenetrable it was pulled from cinemas after five days, never to be screened again.

Until now. Always eccentric and often controversial, Russell, 76, is better known for making Oliver Reed and Alan Bates wrestle naked in Women in Love, taking religious hysteria to new (and mostly naked) heights in The Devils and bringing the Who's concept album to the screen with Tommy. He spoke to TIME's Jumana Farouky about making art and making waves.

Why did you agree to be the face of this year's Raindance? I never ask. All they had to do was ask me.

But must have a special affinity for independent film. Oh yes. I'm making one myself at this very moment called Revenge of the Elephant Man in my back garden with family and friends.

Why? Why not? I'm not answerable to anyone but me. I don't have to get the script approved, I don't have to get the final cut taken away from me. I can indulge myself.

So what if Warner Bros. asked you to do another movie for them..? Warner Bros. would never ask me after two films I made for them which they didn't like.

Even your big studio films, though, tend to have an independent sensibility to them. I sometimes wonder how they got accepted by the committee in the first place. Of course they didn't have committees so much when I was making my so-called controversial films like The Devils. You didn't have to sell the idea to a committee, there would be just one or two people who had to approve. After Women in Love I remember United Artists were pleased that it was an artistic success and it made money as well. And they asked me what film I'd like to do next and I said a film on Tchaikovsky whereupon their faces fell. And they said, 'What's the pitch?' And I said, 'It's about a homosexual who falls in love with a nymphomaniac.' I got the money. Ping! The cash register went and they handed it over.

Were they happy with it at the end? No. They were a bit shocked.

You refer to your films as "so-called controversial." But when you were making films like The Devils you must have known they were going to cause a stir. Well, it wasn't my idea to make the film. At least half the films I've made have been commissioned. The studios would come up with an idea and ask if I'd like to make a film of it. I'd never heard of it, but then I read Aldous Huxley's book on Devils of Loudun then amalgamated the film and made the script. Warners read the script, accepted it and when they saw the film they were appalled. And yet I hadn't changed a thing. Maybe they just didn't have as vivid an imagination.

Are you proud of it? Oh yeah, I think it's one of my best films. And the fact that it's taught at Loyola University in Chicago as a "pukka" Catholic movie ensures my entrance into heaven!

Do you consider yourself a religious man? Yes. All my films are religious films. They all have morals.

But what gives you the right to preach? I'm not preaching. I mean… did Jesus preach? I suppose he did, didn't he? Well, Oliver Reed always called me Jesus.

Did you like that? Like it or not, it was thrust upon me.

What was the hardest film to make? [Twiggy-starring musical] The Boyfriend. I thought after The Devils, which was a bit harrowing, I'd have a change of pace. I didn't reckon that putting six lady starlets in the same dressing room would be such a bad idea. Because on the touring company they would be in the same dressing room. So I thought if they were to be their characters, I'd put them in the same room. It was a disaster. Huge agony, misery.

You also once said it was difficult working with Rudolf Nureyev in your 1977 biopic Valentino. Oh yes. One of the most magnificent mime dancers in the world and all he wanted to do was speak dialogue. And the problem was he wasn't very good at it. He wanted to speak words. 'Words,' he was saying. 'Words. Words.' And if I cut one word from the script, he refused to do it. And, y'know, the accent. Rudolph Valentino had an accent, but it was apparently not Russian.

You've been making film for almost 50 years now. Is cinema getting better or worse? It's getting much better. I think Hollywood's getting better. I hardly ever go to the movies anymore, but I think they're very professional, well-acted, good music, beautifully shot. Usually crap dialogue.

So what's the most important element of a film? Anything that grips you. You've got to recognize a part of yourself or something that you believe in or whatever it is. You've got to relate. And there a lots of different ways to do that.

What about the difference between American film and European film? I was brought up on American film. And the first European film I saw I thought was awful. I was four and it was Don Quixote. I thought it was badly lit, over-exposed. I was born the year The Jazz Singer came out, so my mother always said my first words were [sings] "Mammy, mammy I would walk a million miles just for one of your smiles!" Whether that's true or not…

You teach film at the Southampton Institute, don't you? I make the occasional appearance.

And how are the next generation of filmmakers shaping up? They're all mostly in love with violence. Because it's easy, to make a stab at it, to splatter the screen with blood.

But what's the difference between that and the violence you used in your films? For me it was always a question of the subject, it's the expression that the subject allows. If the subject's about violence, then you use violence. A composer creating to his work ... now that's about poetry.

And what is Revenge of the Elephant Man about? It's inspired by The Island of Dr. Moreau with Marlon Brando in the performance of his career. Revenge is about a doctor who's inspired by Brando's character to try some genetic engineering and he crosses an elephant with a woman. The result is the elephant man, which has its trunk in a rather interesting place. It has two functions. I'll leave it to your imagination. I have a well-endowed neighbor playing the part.

Do you plan to retire any time soon? I can't afford to retire. I have four wives and nine children.

Nine? You've had another? I read it was eight. Well, eight or nine. [Laughs] Now that's controversial.

• Veteran British director Ken Russell talks to TIME