"Rabbit-Proof Fence" and "The Quiet American" return you to the politically themed films of your early career. Is this coincidence or design?

When I shot "Rabbit-Proof Fence", I was meant to go back to Hollywood and do "The Sum of All Fears". But finally, on the back of the German stock market volcano that erupted, we found the money for "The Quiet American". I'd been hoping to do the film since 1995, when I rediscovered the book on a visit to Vietnam. So it was sort of a coincidence, and sort of planned.

Why did "The Quiet American" affect you in a way that made you want to film it?

Because it was asking questions that I had in the back of my mind, and answering them too. Obviously all of us have thought about Vietnam, particularly in my generation in Australia that were part of conscription and fought there. Our friends came back, forever changed. So there were a lot of questions.

You're an Australian. Could an American have made this film?

Probably not. Sydney Pollack [executive producer] gave it up, and he's still nervous about it. He keeps telling me he doesn't think [Brendan Fraser's character] Pyle's innocent any more, like he is in the book. And I keep telling him, "Well, I don't think he ever was." The training of a CIA agent in the 50s involved reading a very famous book about conmen. So whatever Graham Greene [author of the novel] might have thought, maybe he was being conned as well.

The film's American release was delayed because of 11th September. Was there any worry about possible political ramifications before then?

Not really, because it was a different world. Self-criticism and self-reflection were possible. But that changed. And that's because of violation. People just don't laugh when their family is violated, and you don't shrug it off. You band together and you defend together. It's a funny, primitive instinct.