When I first met someone who claimed to never have dreams, 
I considered him handicapped. Dreaming was part of living, like eating. 
When I learned the concept that humans have souls, I figured that
those who could not dream perhaps had no souls.

My parents taught me the difference between what happened in my dreams
and in waking life, so I would not get confused. At breakfast, we’d share 
stories of our dreams. Easy as Aunt Jemima’s smile. Not that she was 
ever in my dreams, but there were lots of characters who I had adventures 
with. Some of them still visit me.

When I started writing this screenplay, I was aware of my friends in dreamland, 
and their view of my waking world. I had long talks with Ori (that’s not his real name), 
and when I woke up I’d apply his ideas to some basic situations. 
He was right about most everything. I wrote The Door through his eyes.

Working with people to make The Door into a film, well, that was interesting. 
I forgot that actors are of this world, and so were all the problems that popped up. 
But when we were able to transcend the uncomfortable moments, to stretch time 
and forget fatigue, the lens captured things which my eyes could not see.

Bruce Wood