Iron*Man is about invasion and a miniature, perplexing world. Is it about a man being overwhelmed by a woman or a woman’s revenge upon a man? Is it about my father who always appeared emotionally paralyzed to me? Is it about me — my need to appear in control no matter what? It could be all of these things but first it was a film about objects — a frozen, unflappable miniature man, a tiny iron and ironing board and unexplainable clumps of hair. Meaning appeared afterwards, when I tried to make sense of what I had done.

Is it meaning or is made up? I can’t be sure.