Alberto Barbera is the longest-serving director of the Venice Film Fest. Counting this year’s event, which kicks off August 30, Barbera will have racked up 15 years.

After a short, three-year stint from 1999-2001, Barbera returned in 2011, beginning the festival’s new golden age. Under his guidance, Venice has become springboard for the Oscars (Gravity, Birdman, La La Land, Shape of Water) and launchpad for studio blockbusters (Joker, Dune).

His current term is up next year, but when asked if he would sign up again, Barbera just laughs. “Do you think if they offered it to me I would say no? It’s an offer you can’t refuse.”

Back in the mid-1950s, in small municipal cinema?

I know that I got very frightened by a tense scene. The fascination of fear was so strong that I asked to come back. And to come back again. The first film I remember is Chaplin’s Modern Times. I must have been six years old. Then lots of Laurel and Hardy, Chaplin, shorts galore. Finally, an amazing thing happened. I saw a war movie with an ending that haunted me for years but I could never tell what movie it was. Not long ago, I bought old The Bridges at Toko-Ri (1954) VHS tape and put it on one night at home. That was it! It was very exciting.

When you were a child, what did you want to be?

Well, the Cassa di Risparmio di Torino foundation was giving us a sponsorship of 200 million lire, almost half of our budget. I forgot to invite the executives to the final evening. They took great offense. We were in danger of losing the sponsor. I think they weren’t there the next year, but that might be false memory.

Did you have to make political and economic compromises on your way up?

I was lucky. I can say no. When I was first offered the position at the Biennale, I didn’t even want to accept. It had reputation of being an unmanageable machine, it was government body that depended on the culture ministry. But in 1998, it became a foundation, a private entity. My first term was in ’99. We inaugurated with Paolo Baratta a new and magnificent season. Then, in 2001 we were all kicked out. With Silvio Berlusconi as the new Italian President and Giuliano Urbani as minister of culture, they tried to bring the festival back under the control of the ministry. They didn’t succeed.

How is the Biennale doing financially?

It’s very healthy. Removed from ministerial pressure, it has grown enormously. It has been led by people of great stature with vision, who have put investments first. We started again, in 2012, to restore our structures: the buildings, the halls. Today the Arsenale is one of the most beautiful art venues in the world. Great credit must be given to Paolo Baratta [President of the Biennale]. He did a lot of good for everyone.

Toronto and Telluride were held concurrently and they’d gotten bigger. Toronto had become the gateway to US cinema. It cost less, it worked. We had dilapidated structures, so we started from there, tidying up the rooms, the screens, and the projection techniques. Made it more welcoming. Then we had to rebuild our relationship with the Americans, not to be culturally subordinate to them but because we knew, if they come, the others will come too.

How did you pull it off with the Americans?

It was the second year, with Alfonso Cuaron’s Gravity. Warner offered it to us, they didn’t really believe in it. But it was magnificent. We opened with it. Months later it won him an Oscar for best director. Then it was the turn of Alejandro Inarritu’s Birdman, the next year, it won the Oscar [for best picture]. The majors became convinced that Venice was springboard to the Oscars. From there on it was up to us to select the right films, but it was never difficult. When you see La La Land, The Shape of Water it’s clear. A little expertise, a little flair, a lot of passion for cinema. That’s all it takes.

I would say yes. Luca Guadagnino fought until the end for it to be here but the reasons for the strikes are more than legitimate. It’s a fair claim. For a film, to premiere in one year and compete for an Oscar two years later is a big risk. But it’s just the history of cinema, this tug-of-war between talent and the market. The “perfect formula,” as in David Thomson puts it in his magnificent book, does not exist. Talent needs resources. It is a delicate balance, a constant adjustment. A perennial and unresolved conflict. Workers’ rights, however, must be recognized and protected at all times.

At least five or six. Among the Italians we selected there are some very good, important films. There are few masterpieces in the history of cinema. But it is decisive to make big production investments in talent. The Italian industry has understood that in order to be competitive on the world market it has to invest a lot. I think we’re at a turning point.

Two great moments of your life as artistic director

The first one was in 1999. I went to Los Angeles, to Warner to get a movie. They proposed Eyes Wide Shut. [Director Stanley] Kubrick wanted to come to Venice, they said. Then he died in May. Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman came. Bernardo Bertolucci read from the stage a magnificent memory of Kubrick, making a mea culpa about how he underestimated him as a director. Cruise and Kidman were crying on opening night. I was 49, feeling very young. Maybe I was. I was so excited.

Lady Gaga wiping off the rain in my office. Bradley Cooper asked to go into the theater with her to greet the audience, in the two theaters where A Star is Born was being shown. It had never happened before that the actors went into the auditorium. She, used to performing in front of thousands of people, hesitated and was afraid. “It’s my first film,” she said. “Maybe I’m a really bad actor?” You should have heard the roar in the theater, actually in the two theaters because we entered the second one at the end credits. It was incredible. Security was on edge. I put my arm around her shoulders. She spoke a few words of Italian. I gave her courage. Me. To Lady Gaga.

Have you ever thought of making a film as a director?

Never. I would be a terrible director. It’s the hardest thing in the world, you have to have enormous talent. I don’t think I’m capable.

Don’t you think you are capable? 

I’ve just learned, from the time of that Occhieppo cinema to today, to put myself at the service of other people’s talent. I am happy about that. Everyone in life has his own duty. That’s mine.