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Original and rich, The Cinema of Barbara Stanwyck is an essential and entertaining reexamination of an enduring Hollywood star.

From the mid-1930s to the late 1950s, Mexican cinema became the most successful Latin American cinema and the leading Spanish-language film industry in the world. Many Cine de Oro (Golden Age cinema) films adhered to the dominant Hollywood model, but a small yet formidable filmmaking faction rejected Hollywood’s paradigm outright. Directors Fernando de Fuentes, Emilio Fernández, Luis Buñuel, Juan Bustillo Oro, Adolfo Best Maugard, and Julio Bracho sought to create a unique national cinema that, through the stories it told and the ways it told them, was wholly Mexican. The Classical Mexican Cinema traces the emergence and evolution of this Mexican cinematic aesthetic, a distinctive film form designed to express lo mexicano.

Charles Ramírez Berg begins by locating the classical style’s pre-cinematic roots in the work of popular Mexican artist José Guadalupe Posada at the turn of the twentieth century. He also looks at the dawning of Mexican classicism in the poetics of Enrique Rosas’ El Automóvil Gris, the crowning achievement of Mexico’s silent filmmaking era and the film that set the stage for the Golden Age films. Berg then analyzes mature examples of classical Mexican filmmaking by the predominant Golden Age auteurs of three successive decades. Drawing on neoformalism and neoauteurism within a cultural studies framework, he brilliantly reveals how the poetics of Classical Mexican Cinema deviated from the formal norms of the Golden Age to express a uniquely Mexican sensibility thematically, stylistically, and ideologically.

Great music arouses wonder: how did the composer create such an original work of art? What was the artist's inspiration, and how did that idea become a reality? Cultural products inevitably arise from a context, a submerged landscape that is often not easily accessible. To bring such things to light, studies of the creative process find their cutting edge by probing beyond the surface, opening new perspectives on the apparently familiar.

“Creativity” is a word that excites and dazzles us. It promises brilliance and achievement, a shield against conformity, a channel for innovation across the arts, sciences, technology, and education, and a mechanism for economic revival and personal success. But it has not always evoked these ideas. The Creativity Complex traces the history of how creativity has come to mean the things it now does, and explores the ethical implications of how we use this term today for both the arts and for the social world more broadly. Richly researched, the book explores how creativity has been invoked in arenas as varied as Enlightenment debates over the nature of cognition, Victorian-era intelligence research, the Cold War technology race, contemporary K-12 education, and even modern electoral politics. Ultimately, The Creativity Complex asks how our ideas about creativity are bound up with those of self-fulfillment, responsibility, and the individual, and how these might seduce us into joining a worldview and even a set of social imperatives that we might otherwise find troubling.

"Play it again, Sam" is the motto of cult film enthusiasts, who will watch their favorite movie over and over, "beyond all reason." What is the appeal of cult movies? Why do fans turn up in droves at midnight movies or sit through the same three-hanky classics from Hollywood's golden era? These are some of the questions J. P. Telotte and twelve other noted film scholars consider in this groundbreaking study of the cult film.

The book identifies two basic types of cult films—older Hollywood movies, such as Casablanca, that have developed a cult following and "midnight movies," most notably The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Telotte, Bruce Kawin, and Timothy Corrigan offer thought-provoking discussions about why these two types of movies become cult films, the sort of audience they attract, and the needs they fulfill for that audience. Subsequent essays employ a variety of cultural, feminist, ideological, and poststructural strategies for exploring these films.

In a section on the classical cult film, the movie Casablanca receives extensive treatment. An essay by T. J. Ross considers Beat the Devil as a send-up of cult films, while another essay by Wade Jennings analyzes the cult star phenomenon as personified in Judy Garland.

"Midnight movie madness" is explored in essays on The Rocky Horror Picture Show, movie satires of the 1950s, science fiction double features, and horror thrillers.

Illustrated with scenes from favorite movies and written for both fans and scholars, The Cult Film Experience will appeal to a wider audience than the "usual suspects."

The rich history of the acoustic guitar and its impact on the music world.

In 2020, guitar expert John Stubbings released a limited-edition book on the American acoustic guitar that sold out in days. Now, The Devil Is in It returns with additional research and subject matter for a new generation of readers. Stubbings traveled the country and met with guitar makers, players, collectors, and historians to unravel the long and rich history of the acoustic guitar, its evolution, and the music it has made over the last hundred years.

Starting with the eighteenth-century European classical guitar, luthiers altered the instrument, changing the way musicians played them, and in turn the music they made. This slow but steady transformation created the iconic American flat-top that became influential across genres and rooted itself in cultural significance. The guitar developed from an obscure instrument into a superstar of the musical world, rivaling then overshadowing its competition. Tied to artists from Gillian Welch and Tracy Chapman to Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran, the acoustic guitar maintains its eminence in American music and culture. The story of an alluring instrument that shaped the music of the twentieth century, The Devil Is in It is a must-read for lovers of the acoustic guitar and the music it has made.

This extraordinary volume presents twenty-five in-depth interviews with established and emerging South African filmmakers, collected and edited by Audrey Thomas McCluskey. The interviews capture the filmmakers’ spirit, energy, and ambition as they attempt to give birth to a film culture that reflects the heart and aspirations of their diverse and emergent nation. The collection includes a biographical profile of each filmmaker, as well an introductory essay by McCluskey, pointing to the themes, as well as creative differences and similarities, among the filmmakers.

Exploring the meanings of media technologies through Walter Benjamin’s thought

Walter Benjamin’s prime years as a cultural critic coincided with the rise of televised broadcasting in Europe and North America, a unique period of rapid expansion in a new technological medium. So why would such a subtle and sensitive critic of media, known for his cultural criticism across genres, seem to have ignored or even missed the entire phenomenon of television? This book reveals how television, as a concept and a metaphor, in fact structures Benjamin’s philosophy.

Through a careful reading of Benjamin’s work across various media—literature, photography, cinema, radio, and television—Roland Végső reconstructs a powerful vision of media technologies as not merely tools of communication but as forces that shape how we imagine and construct the world as a conceptual totality. The Dialectical Screen provides a timely and provocative framework for understanding how media continue to shape our political, cultural, and existential horizons, recasting Benjamin's understanding of historical materialism in fundamentally tele-visual terms as a theoretical orientation that makes visible the perishing of the world itself.

Judith Malina’s newly restored diaries from a critical early decade in her personal, artistic, and political development

Judith Malina’s diaries from 1947 to 1957 are brought back into print in this volume, which charts her cofounding of The Living Theatre with husband and lifelong artistic partner Julian Beck. In these diaries, she narrates her developing political commitments and her expansive collaborations and personal relationships, as well as a moving account of her time in prison with activist Dorothy Day. This new edition features Kate Bredeson’s comprehensive introduction, which offers a detailed examination of Malina’s life and work in this period, along with additional historical context of these years and never-before-published photographs from Malina’s personal archives.

The Diaries of Judith Malina is a four-volume set that publishes for the first time together the edited diaries of radical theater director, actor, and activist Judith Malina from 1947 to 1971, the most influential period of her remarkable and storied career. A committed anarchist and pacifist, Malina made theater as a way to stoke revolutionary action. Her diaries showcase her political and social observations, cultural commentary, self-reflection, and wit. This expertly prepared set invites us to recognize Malina for her accomplishments not only as an artist and an activist but as one of the great literary diarists.
 

A previously unpublished volume of diaries recording Judith Malina’s extraordinary life and career in a moment of cultural revolution

Judith Malina’s diaries from the pivotal years of 1958 to 1968 are presented here in print for the first time. Meticulously edited and with an essential introduction by Kate Bredeson that offers a detailed discussion of Malina’s life and works during this period, the volume includes additional historical context and never-before-published photographs from Malina’s personal archives, as well as an illuminating foreword by Living Theatre archivist and longtime company member Tom Walker. This decade covers some of the most important years of Malina’s life and in the history of The Living Theatre, from career-defining productions of The Connection and The Brig to the company’s self-imposed European exile, when they created their signature works, including Paradise Now, Antigone, and Frankenstein.

The Diaries of Judith Malina is a four-volume set that publishes for the first time together the edited diaries of radical theater director, actor, and activist Judith Malina from 1947 to 1971, the most influential period of her remarkable and storied career. A committed anarchist and pacifist, Malina made theater as a way to engage in revolutionary action. Her diaries showcase her political and social observations, cultural commentary, self-reflection, and wit. This expertly prepared set invites us to recognize Malina for her accomplishments not only as an artist and an activist but as one of the great literary diarists.
 

A newly restored edition of Judith Malina’s legendary diaries narrating a key moment of social, political, and cultural upheaval

Originally published by Judith Malina as The Enormous Despair, this slim, gripping collection of diaries from a pivotal period between 1968 and 1969 follows The Living Theatre’s return to the United States after their years of self-exile in Europe, their increasing notoriety and frequent arrests, and their cross-country touring. In these pages, Malina wrestles with the company’s artistic and political efforts during a moment of societal crisis and grapples with their future. Kate Bredeson’s introduction contextualizes Malina’s life and work in this period, while additional historical context and never-before-published photographs add new detail and depth to a stirring account of American social and political history. 

The Diaries of Judith Malina is a four-volume set that publishes for the first time together the edited diaries of radical theater director, actor, and activist Judith Malina from 1947 to 1971, the most influential period of her remarkable and storied career. A committed anarchist and pacifist, Malina made theater as a way to engage in revolutionary action. Her diaries showcase her political and social observations, her cultural commentary, her self-reflection, and her wit. This expertly prepared set invites us to recognize Malina for her accomplishments not only as an artist and an activist but as one of the great literary diarists.
 

Judith Malina’s never-before-published diaries describing a period of profound personal and professional transformation

The years 1969 to 1971 saw The Living Theatre’s greatest rupture, reckoning with its desire to leave its defining productions from the 1960s behind and move forward with new artistic works and practices. In these previously unpublished diaries, Judith Malina recounts these pivotal years, describing her transformative time in Brazil, including her experiences of daily life in jail while awaiting trial with her company members. This meticulously edited volume includes Kate Bredeson’s introduction, examining Malina’s life and work in this period, as well as additional historical context and never-before-published photographs. Living Theatre member Ilion Troya offers a foreword that provides new context for understanding the volume’s historical significance.

The Diaries of Judith Malina is a four-volume set that publishes for the first time together the edited diaries of radical theater director, actor, and activist Judith Malina from 1947 to 1971, the most influential period of her remarkable and storied career. A committed anarchist and pacifist, Malina made theater as a way to engage in revolutionary action. Her diaries showcase her political and social observations, cultural commentary, self-reflection, and wit. This expertly prepared set invites us to recognize Malina for her accomplishments not only as an artist and an activist but as one of the great literary diarists.
 

The drama's laws,
the drama's patrons give,
For we that live to please,
must please to live.
—Samuel Johnson, 1747

Democratic ferment, responsible for political explosions in the seventeenth century and expanded power in the eighteenth, affected all phases of English life. The theatre reflected these forces in the content of the plays of the period and in an increased awareness among playgoers that the theatre "must please to live."

Drawing from a wealth of amusing and informative contemporary accounts, Leo Hughes presents abundant evidence that the theatre-going public proved zealous, and sometimes even unruly, in asserting its role and rights. He describes numerous species of individual pest—the box-lobby saunterers, the vizard masks (ladies of uncertain virtue), the catcallers, and the weeping sentimentalists. Protest demonstrations of various interest groups, such as footmen asserting their rights to sit in the upper gallery, reflect the behavior of the audience as a whole—an audience that Alexander Pope described as "the manyheaded monster of the pit."

Hughes analyzes the changes in the audience's taste through the long span from Dryden's day to Sheridan's. He illustrates the decline in taste from the sophisticated, if bawdy, comedy of the Restoration Period to the sentimentalism and empty show of later decades. He attributes the increased emphasis on sentiment and spectacle to audience influence and describes the effects of audience demands on managers, playwrights, and players. He describes in detail the mixed assembly that frequented the theatre during this period and the greatly enlarged theatres that were built to accommodate it.

Hughes concludes that it was the English people's basic love of liberty that allowed them to accept audience disruptions considered intolerable by foreign visitors and that the drama's patrons greatly influenced the quality of theatrical production during this long period.

The first-century Roman tragedies of Seneca, like all ancient drama, do not contain the sort of external stage directions that we are accustomed to today; nevertheless, a careful reading of the plays reveals such stage business as entrances, exits, setting, sound effects, emotions of the characters, etc. The Dramaturgy of Senecan Tragedy teases out these dramaturgical elements in Seneca's work and uses them both to aid in the interpretation of the plays and to show the playwright's artistry.

Thomas D. Kohn provides a detailed overview of the corpus, laying the groundwork for appreciating Seneca's techniques in the individual dramas. Each of the chapters explores an individual tragedy in detail, discussing the dramatis personae and examining how the roles would be distributed among a limited number of actors, as well as the identity of the Chorus. The Dramaturgy of Senecan Tragedymakes a compelling argument for Seneca as an artist and a dramaturg in the true sense of the word: "a maker of drama." Regardless of whether Seneca composed his plays for full-blown theatrical staging, a fictive theater of the mind, or something in between, Kohn demonstrates that he displays a consistency and a careful attentiveness to details of performance. While other scholars have applied this type of performance criticism to individual tragedies or scenes, this is the first comprehensive study of all the plays in twenty-five years, and the first ever to consider not just stagecraft, but also metatheatrical issues such as the significant distribution of roles among a limited number of actors, in addition to the emotional states of the characters. Scholars of classics and theater, along with those looking to stage the plays, will find much of interest in this study.

A recurrent and popular setting in American cinema, the dressing room has captured the imaginations of filmmakers and audiences for over a century. In The Dressing Room: Backstage Lives and American Film, the only book-length study of the space, author Desirée J. Garcia explores how dressing rooms are dynamic realms in which a diverse cast of performers are made and exposed. Garcia analyzes the backstage film, which spans film history, modes, and genre, to show how dressing rooms have been a useful space for filmmakers to examine the performativity of American life. From the Black maid to the wife and mother to the leading man, dressing rooms navigate, shape, and challenge society’s norms. The stakes are high in dressing rooms, Garcia argues, because they rehearse larger questions about identity and its performance, negotiating who can succeed and who cannot and on what terms. 

A little over 100 years ago, the first production of An-sky’s The Dybbuk, a play about the possession of a young woman by a dislocated spirit, opened in Warsaw. In the century that followed, The Dybbuk became a theatrical conduit for a wide range of discourses about Jews, belonging, and modernity. This timeless Yiddish play about spiritual possession beyond the grave would go on to exert a remarkable and unforgettable impact on modern theater, film, literature, music, and culture. 

The Dybbuk Century collects essays from an interdisciplinary group of scholars who explore the play’s original Yiddish and Hebrew productions and offer critical reflections on the play’s enduring influence. The collection will appeal to scholars, students, and theater practitioners, as well as general readers.

September 12, 1910: The world premiere of Gustav Mahler’s Eighth Symphony and the artistic breakthrough for which the composer had yearned all his life. Munich’s new Musik Festhalle was filled to capacity on two successive evenings for the performances, which were received with rapturous applause. Representatives of many European royal houses were in attendance, along with an array of stars from the musical and literary world, including Thomas Mann and the young Arnold Schoenberg. Also present were Alma Mahler, the composer’s wife, and Alma’s longtime lover, the architect Walter Gropius. Knowledge of their relationship would precipitate an emotional crisis in Mahler that, compounded with his heart condition and the loss of his young daughter Maria, would lead to his premature death the next year.

In The Eighth, Stephen Johnson provides a masterful account of the symphony’s far-reaching consequences and its effect on composers, conductors, and writers of the time. The Eighth looks behind the scenes at the demanding one-week rehearsal period leading up to the premiere—something unheard of at the time—and provides fascinating insight into Mahler’s compositional habits, his busy life as a conductor, his philosophical and literary interests, and his personal and professional relationships. Johnson expertly contextualizes Mahler’s work among the prevailing attitudes and political climate of his age, considering the art, science, technology, and mass entertainment that informed the world in 1910. The Eighth is an absorbing history of a musical masterpiece and the troubled man who created it.

Marian Wilson Kimber restores elocution with music to its rightful place in performance history. Gazing through the lenses of gender and genre, Wilson Kimber argues that these female artists transgressed the previous boundaries between private and public domains. Their performances advocated for female agency while also contributing to a new social construction of gender. Elocutionists, proud purveyors of wholesome entertainment, pointedly contrasted their "acceptable" feminine attributes against those of morally suspect actresses. As Wilson Kimber shows, their influence far outlived their heyday. Women, the primary composers of melodramatic compositions, did nothing less than create a tradition that helped shape the history of American music.

An innovative account of listening and empire-building in 17th- and 18th-century China.

The Emperor’s New Epistemology explores how listening shaped knowledge and empire-building in seventeenth- and eighteenth-century China. As the Manchu dynasty expanded deep into Inner Asian territories deemed foreign by the majority-Han population, the Qing Empire’s musical culture encompassed the sounds of Mongols, Uyghurs, and Tibetans, as well as Western music brought by Jesuit and other Christian missionaries. Lester Hu reveals that this diversity transformed not only Qing court culture but the very grounds on which knowledge and power could be established.

In one revealing episode from 1692, the Kangxi Emperor (1654–1722) misinterpreted a key term of Classical Chinese music after studying European music with the Jesuits. Hu situates this anecdote within the political, social, and epistemic shifts that transformed late-imperial China. As Hu shows, listening was an instrument of Qing imperial authority: Knowledge about music, language, and even the universe could only be verified through the emperor’s ears. Furthermore, listening facilitated new theories of empirical knowledge, which both lent themselves to Qing-imperial ideology and generated new epistemic tensions. By exploring their echoes in similar shifts in early modern Europe, Hu’s book brings a global perspective to the study of music in the early modern world and reconsiders the transcendental ground on which such comparative and intercultural knowledge is possible.

2024 Finalist, Marshall McLuhan Outstanding Book Award, Media Ecology Association

How one company created the dominant aesthetic of digital realism.

Just about every major film now comes to us with an assist from digital effects. The results are obvious in superhero fantasies, yet dramas like Roma also rely on computer-generated imagery to enhance the verisimilitude of scenes. But the realism of digital effects is not actually true to life. It is a realism invented by Hollywood—by one company specifically: Industrial Light & Magic.

The Empire of Effects shows how the effects company known for the puppets and space battles of the original Star Wars went on to develop the dominant aesthetic of digital realism. Julie A. Turnock finds that ILM borrowed its technique from the New Hollywood of the 1970s, incorporating lens flares, wobbly camerawork, haphazard framing, and other cinematography that called attention to the person behind the camera. In the context of digital imagery, however, these aesthetic strategies had the opposite effect, heightening the sense of realism by calling on tropes suggesting the authenticity to which viewers were accustomed. ILM’s style, on display in the most successful films of the 1980s and beyond, was so convincing that other studios were forced to follow suit, and today, ILM is a victim of its own success, having fostered a cinematic monoculture in which it is but one player among many.