So we did nearly everything together, day after day, week after week. At the National Film Theatre we had complete seasons of Fritz Lang, Howard Hawks, and Jean Renoir, as well as an extended survey of French cinema. This made for a magical coincidence in education, for it was in the early 1960s that revolutions occurred—the films of the French New Wave: The 400 Blows, Shoot the Piano Player, Jules and Jim, Les Cousins, Paris Belongs to Us, as well as Breathless and Vivre Sa Vie. It was not just that these were wildly exciting movies. They were made by young men we knew from the yellow-covered Cahiers du Cinéma where they had for years been reveling in Hollywood cinema. They adored Howard Hawks, Hitchcock, Fritz Lang, Preminger, Vincente Minnelli, Sam Fuller, Anthony Mann, and Nick Ray. In Sight & Sound (the prim English film quarterly we deplored), there had been an article by the editor, “Ray or Ray?,” in which the humanist compassion of Satyajit Ray was preferred to the desperate cinematics of Nicholas Ray. We admired Satyajit Ray, but we adored Nick Ray because his films were closer to our world. His Rebel Without a Cause was a knowing title, getting at the existential uncertainty in modern opportunities. Kieran and I collaborated on the most complete Nick Ray filmography yet done for the insurrectionary magazine Movie in 1963.