Movie Criticism

Whether for game night with family and friends, preparing for the competition at the local pub, or passing the time during long family car trips, this is the book for you....

1974 was a busy year for Mel Brooks. Although still recovering after a series of failed projects threatened his career, he pulled off a one-two punch that saw the release of two of the most beloved American comedies ever made: Blazing Saddles and Young Frankenstein. Although both films are well-known, the stories beyond the making of each movie are less so. How did they come to be, and how did the era's culture and politics not only permit them to be made, but help them to become enduring comedy classics?

Movie Nightcap continues its series of exclusive episodes known as the Reserve Collection. In this high octane follow-up, hosts Jill Tighe, Abe Saffer, and Nate Fisher bring you more antics, more beer, and of course, more movies. For Volume 2, the hosts further explore the world of beer and movies and sit down with artists from both industries. We hope you enjoy this collection of episodes that is equal parts comedy, education, and passionate conversation.

Movies under the Influence charts the entangled histories of moviegoing and mind-altering substances from early cinema through the psychedelic 1970s. Jocelyn Szczepaniak-Gillece examines how the parallel trajectories of these two aspects of American culture resulted in them being treated and regulated in similar ways. Rather than looking at drug use within film, she regards cinema and intoxicants as kindred experiences of immersion that have been subject to corresponding forces of ideology and power.

What did President Ronald Reagan think of Rocky IV? How did the Matthew Broderick film WarGames inform America's missile defense system? What Michael J. Fox movie made such an impression on President Reagan that he felt compelled to mention it in a speech to the Joint Session of Congress? Over the course of eight years, Mark Weinberg travelled to Camp David each weekend with Ronald and Nancy Reagan.

In the summer of 1970, legendary but self-destructive director Orson Welles returned to Hollywood from years of self-imposed exile in Europe and decided it was time to make a comeback movie. It was about a legendary self-destructive director who returns to Hollywood from years of self-imposed exile in Europe. Welles swore it wasn't autobiographical.

To avoid fainting, keep repeating It's only a move ..only a movie ..only a movie ..only a movie If you grew up believing that Planet of the Apes told you all you needed to know about politics, that Slade in Flame was a savage exposé of the pop world, and that The Exorcist revealed the meaning of life, then you probably spent far too many of your formative years at the cinema. Just as likely, you soon would have realised that there was only one career open to you - you'd have to become a film critic.

We've all heard that you learn more from failure than you do from success. Which means that all those hours spent watching crappy movies wasn't a waste of your precious and ever-dwindling life span; it was an education! And Better Living Through Bad Movies can show you how to extract the profound, life-affirming lessons from films like Battlefield Earth, Coyote Ugly, and Indecent Proposal.

Film historian David Thomson, leads us into this very delicate subject. While unpacking classics such as Seven, Strangers on a Train, The Conformist, The Godfather, and The Shining, he offers a disconcerting sense of how the form of movies makes us accomplices in this sinister narrative process. Murder and the Movies admits us into what Thomson calls "a warped triangle": the creator working out a compelling death; the killer doing his and her best; and the entranced spectator trying to cling to life and a proper sense of decency.

In their third and final screen teaming, Judy Garland and Gene Kelly starred together in the MGM musical Summer Stock. In C'mon, Get Happy, authors David Fantle and Tom Johnson present a comprehensive study of this 1950 motion picture. The production coincided at a critical point in the careers of Kelly and an emotionally spent Garland. Kelly, who starred in An American in Paris just one year later, was at the peak of his abilities.

Lucas: His Hollywood Legacy is the first collection to bring a sustained scholarly perspective to the iconic filmmaker and his legacy beyond the Star Wars films. Edited by Richard Ravalli, this volume analyzes Lucas's overall contribution and importance to the film industry, diving deep into his use and development of modern special effects technologies, the history of his Skywalker Ranch production facilities, and more.

Apocalypse Television features a dramatic insider's account of the making of and backlash against The Day After. No other book has told this story in similar fashion, venturing behind-the-scenes of the programming and news divisions at ABC, the backlash from the conservative movement and Religious Right, the challenges encountered by the film's production team, and the experiences of the citizens of Lawrence, Kansas, where the film was set and shot.

When you sit down at a play, movie, or concert—or even in front of the TV or scrolling on your phone—you are taking part in one of the oldest and most mysterious forms of human behavior. Being part of an audience is an age-old experience that we all crave, one that has evolved from amphitheaters to screens. Right This Way is a pop history of audiences through the ages. Playbill editor Robert Viagas unfolds the unique aspects of what he calls “audiencing” with stories from the age of the Greeks to the world of Zoom.

Al Jolson, born Asa Yoelson, immigrated from a shtetl in Lithuania to the United States in 1894 after his father secured a job as a rabbi in Washington, D.C. A poor, Yiddish-speaking newcomer navigating a racially segregated and antisemitic America, young Jolson dreamed of becoming a star, and he did. Through Jolson, Bernstein simultaneously breaks open the history and legacy of the cultural sensation The Jazz Singer. Not only was The Jazz Singer the first feature-length film with synchronized music and dialogue, but it was also taboo smashing in its content.

I was a “Monster Kid” and “The Weird Kid, The Horror Movie Kid.” I found out early…horror is always personal. Now I make horror for a living. It shouldn’t just be WATCHED. Horror should be ENJOYED. This isn’t some stuffy analysis telling you what’s good or bad. Instead, it’s a tour of the 1930s through the 1980s—a personal account of how the best and worst of this era gave us so many memories and experiences that impacted our own lives. It’s fun…just how horror should always be.

Reflections on life and reviews of movies.

As any actor, producer, director, or screenwriter can attest, working in the movie business isn't easy. After Jack Nicholson filmed his first screen test for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, studio mogul Louis B. Mayer politely told him afterwards: "I don't know what we can use you for, but if we ever do need you, we'll need you real bad.” In the late 1960s, Paul, John, George, and Ringo–better known as The Beatles–were set to star in a movie version of J.R.R. Tolkien’s epic fantasy novel, The Lord of the Rings, until Tolkien objected over the loudness of their music.

This audiobook is a tour guide to the best art, music, movies, and literature of Western Civilization. In just a few hours you will become an intermediate level scholar of great paintings, and music...The emphasis is on ancient Greece, ancient Rome, Bible art, Renaissance art, Catholic counter reformation, and the Victorian age for paintings.

When Brian DePalma's operatically violent and profane Scarface debuted in 1983, the film drew almost as much fire as the relentless gunfire in the film itself. The movie was a remake of 1932's Scarface—revamped for a new era of drugs, sex, and graphic violence. Attacked as both a celebration of cocaine-fueled excess and a condemnation of it, the film's reputation only grew as the years went by. But the real story of its success started nearly a century ago—when Hollywood first fell in love with the American gangster....

The Towering Inferno (1974) was the crowning achievement of über-producer Irwin Allen, the self-proclaimed “Master of disaster.” Crafted from two best-selling books and with a budget-busting cast headed by two mega-stars, it took two studios to bring it to the screen. In celebration of the 50th anniversary of The Towering Inferno, biographer-historian Nat Segaloff (who was a member of the film’s special publicity unit) writes about the production, its innovative marketing campaign, and the goings-on before, during, and after its box office success.