I remember it like it was yesterday. Or not, because actually yesterday's not as clear as way back when you get to my age. I just turned 82, whaddaya want?

I was taken to the Nuart Theatre, a weird little place on Santa Monica Boulevard, by my producer friend Stuart Cornfeld to see an odd little picture called Eraserhead. He was bugging me to see the work of this guy, a new director on the block called David Lynch.

It was a beautiful film in black and white, but I still couldn't really believe that this was the director for the project I'd been working on called The Elephant Man, which a babysitter I shared with one of the writers had slipped to me as a favour. But Stuart was convinced, so I met with David. He'd only meet at one place, called Bob's Big Boys, where they serve hamburgers and malt shakes. It was way out in the Valley and I wasn't expecting him to be so polite, but I was rather impressed. He made sense and was very savvy about the changes he wanted.

It was a problem: how does a guy who is known for the best fart jokes in cinema go on to make The Elephant Man? I had all along the line assiduously kept my name from the project. But after this one conversation, David knew I had more to me.

I guess it was the outsider aspect that appealed to him. And that's where I think we met, mentally. My films, even if they're comic, they're about: 'Let's accept the bizarre. Let's learn more about these creatures, or these Jews.' I know the Elephant Man wasn't Jewish, but, to me, the story had all the aspects of anti-semitism and [Joseph] Merrick had all the traits of the classic wandering Jew.

Plus, he was kept in a hospital in London's Jewish quarter. That hospital was right across from Bloom's [a famous kosher restaurant in Whitechapel], for God's sake. Whitechapel and the East End. I loved Petticoat Lane and Brick Lane.

I was there on set every day. We were on Gun Wharf and all along the docks. They're not there any more. When I go back, that whole London has just gone, like the old fog took it. London was friendly back then. You could also get good kosher stuff. I ate at Bloom's every day - and I survived. Amazing.

The first day of shooting with David was in October 1979 and a bit chilly. And he'd arrived without a coat. So I bought him a nice blue overcoat that he wore every day, and he moaned about not having Bob's Big Boys burgers. He's very obsessive-compulsive that way, but, you know, he did find a burger joint in London and he ate there every day, too.

I had a wonderful cast. John Hurt, of course, and Anthony Hopkins, who was magnificent, and Anne Bancroft. She was so good in that film. She had already won the Oscar for The Miracle Worker and she was the producer's wife, so, no, she didn't have to audition. Are you crazy?

Right now, I'm looking for a London theatre for my new musical production of Young Frankenstein. I wrote 20 new songs for it, old burlesque and Jimmy Durante-style songs, and I've done some in the Irving Berlin and Cole Porter style and some in Siggy Romberg operetta style. Always from my period. I don't do hip hop. Oh, you're right. I did one rap, the 'Hitler Rap'. Oy, I forget about that one. It was for a joke, but it was a big hit.

Let's have lunch. You're crazy. [He yells to his secretary] Shelby, take this guy's number. I'm hanging up on him. [To me] I want lunch in London. We'll eat salt beef. They still do that? They got good pickles?

· The Elephant Man special edition DVD is released on 4 August