Increasingly, society questions the connection between violence in entertainment and violence in life. Moralists and censors would reply resoundingly that media violence and social violence are directly linked, but others ask the deeper question: Why do people feel the need to create images of violence, and why do audiences continually watch them? In this thought-provoking and insightful study of American violent cinema, author Jake Horsley attempts to answer these questions by tying together the multiple disciplines of psychology, criminology, censorship, and anthropology. Horsley divides the forty years of his study into two volumes: American Chaos: From Touch of Evil to The Terminator, and Millennial Blues: From Apocalypse Now to The Matrix. These volumes aim to provide both a critical overview of the films themselves and a cultural study of the social and psychological factors relating to the demand for screen violence. By doing so, Horsley raises a new dialogue between scholars and movie buffs to examine the need to portray and the need to watch violent films.

A concise and accessible introduction to the role of violence from the silent era to the present, this volume illustrates the breadth and depth of screen bloodshed in historical, cultural, and industrial contexts. After considering problems of definition, the book offers a systematic history of film violence and examines three of the most popular violent genres: western, horror, and action. It concludes with a case study on the centrality of film violence to the directors of the New American Cinema, such as Francis Ford Coppola, Martin Scorsese, and Steven Spielberg, offering a strong example of how violence, history, ideology, and genre are deeply intertwined.

This filmography covers more than 300 horror films released from 1990 through 1999. The horror genre's trends and cliches are connected to social and cultural phenomena, such as Y2K fears and the Los Angeles riots. Popular films were about serial killers, aliens, conspiracies, and sinister "interlopers," new monsters who shambled their way into havoc. Each of the films is discussed at length with detailed credits and critical commentary. There are six appendices: 1990s cliches and conventions, 1990s hall of fame, memorable ad lines, movie references in Scream, 1990s horrors vs. The X-Files, and the decade's ten best. Fully indexed, 224 photographs.

"Life or movie: Which comes first?" is a glimpse into an aspiring screenwriter's mind as he tries to figure out the inner workings of high concept movies. The author starts out with the premise that there are very easy rules that govern storytelling, rules which are universal and tolerate no exceptions. That is how he was led to discard traditional perspectives of movie analysis one after the other (Field, Campbell, Jung, Freud) which all proved to be unfaithful to observable facts. The author proposes then a change of paradigm and a different look at storytelling: fiction is like magic; you cannot explain it or it will break the spell, ruin the magic. But when you think about it, there are no two rational ways of making a rabbit appear from a hat.

In many senses, viewers have cut their teeth on the violence in American cinema: from Anthony Perkins slashing Janet Leigh in the most infamous of shower scenes; to the 1970s masterpieces of Martin Scorsese, Sam Peckinpah and Francis Ford Coppola; to our present-day undertakings in imagining global annihilations through terrorism, war, and alien grudges. Transfigurations brings our cultural obsession with film violence into a renewed dialogue with contemporary theory. Grønstad argues that the use of violence in Hollywood films should be understood semiotically rather than viewed realistically; Tranfigurations thus alters both our methodology of reading violence in films and the meanings we assign to them, depicting violence not as a self-contained incident, but as a convoluted network of our own cultural ideologies and beliefs.

Superhero films and comic book adaptations dominate contemporary Hollywood filmmaking, and it is not just the storylines of these blockbuster spectacles that have been influenced by comics. The comic book medium itself has profoundly influenced how movies look and sound today, as well as how viewers approach them as texts. Comic Book Film Style explores how the unique conventions and formal structure of comic books have had a profound impact on film aesthetics, so that the different representational abilities of comics and film are put on simultaneous display in a cinematic work. With close readings of films including Batman: The Movie, American Splendor, Superman, Hulk, Spider-Man 2, V for Vendetta, 300, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, Watchmen, The Losers, and Creepshow, Dru Jeffries offers a new and more cogent definition of the comic book film as a stylistic approach rather than a genre, repositioning the study of comic book films from adaptation and genre studies to formal/stylistic analysis. He discusses how comic book films appropriate comics’ drawn imagery, vandalize the fourth wall with the use of graphic text, dissect the film frame into discrete panels, and treat time as a flexible construct rather than a fixed flow, among other things. This cinematic remediation of comic books’ formal structure and unique visual conventions, Jeffries asserts, fundamentally challenges the classical continuity paradigm and its contemporary variants, placing the comic book film at the forefront of stylistic experimentation in post-classical Hollywood.

American cinema has always been violent, and never more so than now: exploding heads, buses that blow up if they stop, racial attacks, and general mayhem. From slapstick's comic violence to film noir, from silent cinema to Tarantino, violence has been an integral part of America on screen. This new volume in a successful series analyzes violence, examining its nature, its effects, and its cinematic and social meaning.

Playful parodies by the author of The Name of the Rose and Foucault's Pendulum. Here, Eco pokes fun at the oversophisticated, overacademic, and overintellectual, and along the way makes penetrating comments about our modern mass culture and the elitist avant-garde in art in criticism.

This thought-provoking and insightful study of 40 years of American violent cinema ties together the multiple disciplines of psychology, criminology, censorship, and anthropology. The study is divided into two volumes: Volume 1: American Chaos, From Touch of Evil to The Terminator, and Volume 2: Millennial Blues, From Apocalypse Now to The Matrix. Horsley raises a new dialogue between scholars and movie buffs as readers struggle to find their own answers to the connection between the need to portray and the need to watch violent films.