Books like Film in Australia — picked by fans

This is an old but indispensable book that gives a panoramic overview of the history of Australian cinema, ending with the important cinema of the 1970s Film Revival.

I read this coffee table edition all the way through and loved the cinema stills and fabulous information on every page. One for the history of Australian cinema enthusiasts.

I really enjoyed reading this book on the development of Australian film culture and history from the silent cinema to the talkies. Diane Collins looks at unexamined areas of this history, including audiences, marketing, and distribution, and even has a chapter about how picture palaces used to have live music at every screening.

This is an engagingly written account that provides important context for any consideration of Australian cinema history. 

This rewarding little book asks and answers the question: what happened to Australian cinema after the landmark Mabo decision on Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander land rights overturned the colonial doctrine of terra nullius?

Theoretically informed and sensitively written, this book is essential reading for anyone interested in the intertwined relationship between history and cinema following a pivotal event in the nation’s journey toward reconciliation.

Australian women have been involved in the creation of cinema from the beginning.

I loved this book because it was one of the few books around at the time that seriously examined this aspect of women in cinema from a range of different perspectives, including from the filmmakers themselves. Can you name the film referenced on the cover? (A: Looking for Alibrandi–a great school film and so much more!)

Every Australian bookish girl knows Sybylla from My Brilliant Career. She is the original feisty heroine, the unashamed young feminist who rejects the isolation and low expectations of the bush and marriage at the turn of the twentieth century, wanting to strike out on her own as a writer. That her yearnings are so irrelevant to those around her and her ambitions unfulfilled act as a dare to all of us, and to me – to have that brilliant career, to tell your truths and have your independence, whether anyone else likes it or not. Equally as vivid, witty, and socially acute as Twain, if you read only one old and dusty novel about Australia, read this one.

This is a ‘crazy endeavor’ from the earlier days of film studies. Inspired by Christian Metz’s ‘le grand syntagmatique’, so-called film semioticians tried to close-read films as meticulously as possible. This resulted in a number of fascinating shot-by-shot analyses, sometimes of a particular scene (Bellour’s well-known interpretation of 82 shots from The Birds) to full-length schemes (on Minnelli’s Gigi, e.g.).

Stephen Heath wrote a wonderfully detailed essay on Welles’s Touch of Evil, but this was even surpassed by Bellour’s North by Northwest, which, like the earlier mentioned essays, is included in this volume, a translation of articles originally published in French, most of them in 1979 and 1980. Though the laborious method has not been without its flaws (there is an inclination to over-interpretation), Bellour’s efforts nonetheless gave evidence of an unprecedented passionate cinephilia. 

I have always enjoyed reading works by Emilie Yueh-yu Yeh and Darrell William Davis as I find their perspectives on the subject I love–Taiwan cinema–refreshing and intelligent.

In their new volume, Yeh and Davis team up with co-editor Wenchi Lin and provide a meticulous examination of 32 individual Taiwanese films between 1963 and 2017. I like the fact that this book offers a wide spectrum of Taiwanese cinematic output in addition to updating the existing literature.

I am particularly inspired by a question that runs through the entire volume: What does national cinema mean to Taiwan at different times under different social, political, and cultural contexts?  

Dazed and Confused, Richard Linklater’s plot-light, pot-heavy 1993 film about Texas teens hanging out on the last day of school in 1976, is perhaps my favorite movie ever, so I was already inclined to love this oral history about the film’s creation and legacy. Maerz expertly weaves the voices of almost everyone involved in the project — from breakout star Matthew McConaughey to members of the crew — to create a highly entertaining, super-compelling look at a stoner cinema classic.

This is a sweeping epic of a book and should be required reading for any student of film history.

Told in a manner that is at once intimate and authoritative, it reads like both a textbook and a biography, detailing the lives of a series of historical figures as a means of relating the history of the Black image in film.

In doing so, Haygood contextualizes the cinematic developments of the past by placing them alongside the social and political developments of the time, showing that you can never truly separate fact from fiction. 

Because this book concentrates on only six 1939 movies – Gone with the Wind, The Wizard of Oz, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Stagecoach, The Hound of the Baskervilles, and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn – Adams is able to go into much more detail about the making of each film and the critical reaction each received. I'd be hard-pressed to pick only six movies from that eventful year and movie fans will disagree with Vieira's choices somewhere down the line. But once you get past that, this book is filled with important information and plenty of trivial details that it is a great read.