A picture: Cocky Patriot by Gilbert and George.

I love clothes and accoutrements, so it would be either a suit or a watch. I love Mark Powell in Soho, and Paul Smith.

A painting by Renoir, paid for by demanding a huge fee for a screenwriting deal with a producer I didn’t want to work for. The movie was never made.

A sports car. I was in my 20s; I’d fallen out with my boyfriend, so to cheer myself up I got myself a little silver and black Mazda and a matching jumper and jacket. And do you know what, it worked. I saw him do a double take.

When Brad and I got married. We had to struggle for it. It involved a nationwide speaking tour, lobbying Congress and campaigning intensely. We were the first couple to get our marriage licence in West Hollywood.

Pope Francis, who left the Vatican to wash the feet of non-believers.

As a teenager I told my father, “You led us into the camp like sheep to slaughter.” I knew I had hurt him, this man that I loved so much. That’s haunted me all my life.

After the war, when I was about nine, we were held up in our home. The robbers grabbed my father and had a gun at his throat. It was terrifying. My mother got a wad of money and gave it to the people, and they ran away.

One great big artistic challenge.

Barbra Streisand’s Evergreen from A Star Is Born or You’ll Never Walk Alone from Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Carousel.