100 Books Like The Analysis of Film

First remarkable fact: This was written by a philosopher. Second remarkable fact: the study was published at a time when film studies had a strong political orientation, and therefore Cavell’s book was an odd one out, for it had a ‘light-hearted’ subject: seven screwball comedies, made between 1934 and 1949. Its relevance has only been acknowledged in retrospect.

Cavell’s style is colloquial and his aim was to set up a ‘dialogue’ with the films. Even though I am less enamored with his philosophical interventions, this work helped me to truly appreciate all seven ‘comedies of remarriage’ he had selected, and The Awful Truth (Leo McCarey, 1937) in particular has remained one of my all-time favorites ever since. Any analysis that encourages us to love a movie under discussion is worth recommending.

How can one take the tradition of feminist film studies (instigated by Laura Mulvey’s ‘the male gaze’ essay) seriously and at the same time be hooked to the cinema of Alfred Hitchcock?

Tania Modleski had set herself the task in this 1988 study to combine these two positions that, for a long time, seemed mutually exclusive. Whereas Mulvey had mentioned that the flashback in Hitchcock’s Vertigo was an exception that had proven the rule (of a cinema of patriarchy), Modleski reversed this by making the exceptions as such the rule in Hitchcock’s work. She thus ended up not condemning Hitchcock’s presumed patriarchal attitude but uncovering his ambivalence.

In her readings, she convincingly explains that it is not just a matter of desiring female characters but also identifying with them among others because of their cleverness.

This study was published during my student years, and I was instantly attracted to Žižek’s unorthodox approach and his idiosyncratic rhetoric. The idea that (Lacanian) theory and (Hegelian) philosophy only make sense insofar as one can explain it to two ‘idiots’ by using examples from ‘popular’ culture, and film in particular, struck a chord with me.

The way Žižek can discuss within only a few pages a Stephen King adaptation, a spaghetti western, and a Fritz Lang film has confused several of his critics, but it has been mind-blowing to me to the present day. Bold and thought-provoking as his works are, he is the Tadej Pogačar within the academic world. The Slovenian cyclist Pogačar could become world champion even after a crazy attack; Žižek can bring crazy associations to a proper end.

Jean-Luc Gordard famously said that film criticism died with the premature demise of Serge Daney, at the age of 48, in 1992. Daney wrote an incredible number of essays and reviews, and his eloquence is astounding. Daney seems to have undergone something of a breakthrough in the Anglo-Saxon world more than thirty years after his death with some new translations, such as The Cinema House.

I consider him the most original reviewer that has ever lived, for I can never foretell his opinion of a certain film: he is constantly oscillating between cinephilic passion and political commitment, between enthusiasm and derision, and for him, moral issues are determined by a filmmaker’s formal approach rather than content: one can ruin a film by making an inappropriate tracking shot.

Two experts in the field provide a great account of Australian film that, at the time, uniquely took a genre approach. There are chapters on comedy, adventure, teen, horror, and art films, to name a few.

In discussing genres, this excellent account foregrounds the films themselves, rather than the history of the Australian film industry. To which genre does your favorite Australian film belong?

This book was my first foray into social and political history of Hollywood.

Sklar covers early film industry battles with Thomas Edison, the impact of censorship in Hollywood, the monopoly-like integration of the studios, and the overarching mythology that Hollywood sold through their movies.

I read it as an undergraduate when I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. Looking back as an author and professor, I can see this book as planting seeds that continue to blossom through my own work in the classroom as well as in books and articles that I publish. 

The year before Errol Flynn blew into Hollywood, the “pre-Code” era ended. What was the “pre-Code” era? It was the period in the early 1930s when Hollywood rode the cliff, making movies about sensational topics like adultery, pay-for-play, drug use, and more. Many of the pictures included a scene or two with leading ladies scantily clad and even braless. Leading men were often scoundrels.

This book entertainingly details both the point of view of studios struggling to remain relevant in the depths of the Great Depression by creating salacious products and the outcry from alarmed parents who took their kids to the movies only to cover their eyes and rush them back out again.

The author backs up his narrative with eye-popping photos illustrating just what was so shocking about the pre-Code era. This interesting period of Hollywood history ended abruptly and, unfortunately, with the puritanical “Production Code” that ushered… show more.

Yes, of course, just about everyone has heard of Roger Ebert (d. 2013), the great film critic for the Chicago Sun-Times and co-host, with Gene Siskel of the PBS program Sneak Previews. But have you ever read any of his reviews? They’re delightful–smart, funny, touching, and thoroughly readable.

Ebert must have seen every film ever made (his reviews are arranged in these collections alphabetically by film title). In each short review he offered, not just his opinion of the film in question, but striking insights into the film’s themes, meanings, symbols, and underlying philosophy.

Any film lover should immediately obtain all four collections. 

This lavishly illustrated large-format volume takes the reader from George Lucas’s childhood and early youth to his years at film school and his subsequent Hollywood career as a director, writer, and producer, with a particular emphasis on the production histories of his key films.

With unprecedented access to countless interviewees and archival materials, Hearn brings George Lucas and the making of his films to life.

Apart from telling compelling stories, he also reproduces a wide range of documents for the reader’s perusal so that the book may serve as an archive in its own right (and I have certainly used it precisely in this way in my own research).

Another fun bit of psychedelic folk horror, combined with a really cool history of the experimental films of Canada.

The narrator is compelling, and the whole time you feel the pull of her obsession to the film she’s looking into, even if it unsettles her and terrifies her at the same time. Love that pull of danger, wanting to look, to see, but knowing that doing so will probably kill you…

It's like horror novel catnip.