Liza Bear's Beyond the Frame provides immediate insights into the modus operandi of many of the most intriguing figures of world cinema from the past 20 years. This lively collection consists of in-depth profiles reprinted from the cultural quarterly Bomb, and feature stories written for the mass media. Speaking here in their own voices are master directors such as Gillian Armstrong, Milos Forman, Takeshi Kitano, Wong Kar-wai, Mohsen Makhmalbaf, Jacques Rivette, Ousmane Sembene, Agnes Varda, and Zhang Yimou. The spontaneity of the exchanges cuts to the creative quick. What drives filmmakers? What are the sources of their scripts? How do art films get made? These and other questions explored in incisive interviews uncover a rich array of topics, from sociopolitical context and family collaborations to directorial choices of casting, location, and mise-en-scene. In addition to cinema veterans, the book focuses on debut features such as Alejandro Inarritu's Amores Perros, Shirley Barrett's Love Serenade, Samira Makhmalbaf's The Apple, and Jafar Panahi's The White Balloon. Other highly original films discussed include Infernal Affairs, Swimming Pool, and Princess Mononoke. Supplementary to the interviews is an introduction by noted author Robin Andersen that elucidates recurrent themes arising out of the discussions, a foreword by Laurence A. Kardish, Film Curator at the Museum of Modern Art, an index, and numerous photographs.

Liza Bear's Beyond the Frame: Dialogues with World Filmmakers explores the world cinema of the past 25 years, and celebrates its range and diversity by paying detailed attention to the creative process. It contains roughly 50 interviews with, and short pieces on directors and other artistic collaborators from over twenty countries, primarily in Asia, Europe, Latin America, and the Middle East. Liza Bear's incisive interviews provide immediate and rapid insights into directors' key themes and concerns. Her continual attention to bodies of work also allows the directors to explain what guided them in their respective movements towards and away from certain themes and genres. While directors are notorious for keeping their cards close to their chest, most of the interviews provided here have a stunning degree of openness and honesty, perhaps because many of these voices have had such a hard time getting heard in the first place. The dialogues examine, among other issues: the sources of the scripts, how the films get made and, where possible, the socioeconomic and cultural conditions under which the directors have worked, from Argentina to Iran to Romania. In addition to the interviews, there is an introduction by noted author Robin Andersen that elucidates recurrent themes arising out of the discussions, a foreword by Laurence Kardish, Film Curator at the Museum of Modern Art, filmographies, and numerous photographs.

This book features interviews with 13 major international directors: Akira Kurosawa, Satyajit Ray, Luchino Visconti, Abbas Kiarostami, Ermanno Olmi, Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, Zhang Yimou, Mike Leigh, Ken Loach, Jacques Tati, Eric Rohmer, and Fran_ois Truffaut.

How artists' magazines, in all their ephemerality, materiality, and temporary intensity, challenged mainstream art criticism and the gallery system. During the 1960s and 1970s, magazines became an important new site of artistic practice, functioning as an alternative exhibition space for the dematerialized practices of conceptual art. Artists created works expressly for these mass-produced, hand-editioned pages, using the ephemerality and the materiality of the magazine to challenge the conventions of both artistic medium and gallery. In Artists' Magazines, Gwen Allen looks at the most important of these magazines in their heyday (the 1960s to the 1980s) and compiles a comprehensive, illustrated directory of hundreds of others. Among the magazines Allen examines are Aspen (1965–1971), a multimedia magazine in a box—issues included Super-8 films, flexi-disc records, critical writings, artists' postage stamps, and collectible chapbooks; Avalanche (1970-1976), which expressed the countercultural character of the emerging SoHo art community through its interviews and artist-designed contributions; and Real Life (1979-1994), published by Thomas Lawson and Susan Morgan as a forum for the Pictures generation. These and the other magazines Allen examines expressed their differences from mainstream media in both form and content: they cast their homemade, do-it-yourself quality against the slickness of an Artforum, and they created work that defied the formalist orthodoxy of the day. Artists' Magazines, featuring abundant color illustrations of magazine covers and content, offers an essential guide to a little-explored medium.

Extreme violence in contemporary European art cinema is generally interpreted for its affective potential, but what about the significance of the everyday that so often frames and forms the majority of these films? Why do the sudden moments of violence that punctuate films like Catherine Breillat's Fat Girl (2001), Gaspar Noe's Irreversible (2002) and Markus Schleinzer's Michael (2011) seem so reliant on everyday routines and settings for their impact? Addressing these questions through a series of case-studies, and considering notorious films in their historical and philosophical context, Troubled Everyday offers the first detailed examination of the relationship between violence and the everyday in European art cinema. It calls for a re-evaluation of what gives these films such affective force, and such a prolonged grip on our imagination.

Prolific British director Michael Winterbottom (b. 1961) might be hard to pin down and even harder to categorize. Over sixteen years, he has created feature films as disparate and stylistically diverse as Welcome to Sarajevo, 24 Hour Party People, In This World, Butterfly Kiss, and The Killer Inside Me. But in this collection, the first English-language volume to gather international profiles and substantive interviews with the Blackburn native, Winterbottom reveals how working with small crews, available light, handheld digital cameras, radio mics, and minuscule budgets allows him fewer constraints than most filmmakers, and the ability to capture the specificity of the locations where he shoots. In Michael Winterbottom: Interviews he emerges as an industrious filmmaker committed to a stripped-down approach whose concern with outsiders and docu-realist authenticity have remained constant throughout his career. Collecting pieces from news periodicals as well as scholarly journals, including previously unpublished interviews and the first-ever translation of a lengthy, illuminating exchange with the French editors of Positif, this volume spans the full breadth of Winterbottom's notably eclectic feature-film career.

This first comprehensive English collection of the interviews of Jacques Rivette (19282016) documents his career through chronology, filmography, bibliography, and image stills. A comprehensive introduction places this work in the wider context of twentieth-century social change. Rivettes films, like many of the works of the French New Wave, seem to have avoided the aging process entirely, remaining as playful, fresh, and quietly spectacular as the day they were made. Indeed, his body of work may be the most impressive of the French New Wave. Celine and Julie Go Boating (1974) has been recognized as possibly the best film to emerge from the post-New Wave era, even as Paris Belongs to Us (1961) is one of the best pictures to emerge from the New Wave itself. Rivette was hardly the most prolific director, however, and the length of his films has often counted against him. Nonetheless, his clinical, self-reflexive essays in film form reveal him as a cinematic purist whose commitment to the celluloid muse hardly diminished from the heady days of the early 1950s to the end of his career in 2009. Beyond inspiring the New Wave movement and continuing to reflect, and reflect on, its central tenets, Rivettes enduring contribution to the history of film is unquestionably evident in his sensitive treatment of the histories and destinies of women, especially through strong roles for actresses. During the six decades of his career, nonetheless, he struck a subtle balance not only between female and male characters, but also between political and personal obsession, between myth and fiction, between theater and cinema, in films that, in addition to having influenced such contemporary filmmakers as Claire Denis, Jim Jarmusch, Olivier Assayas, and David Lynch, continue to redefine the art of cinema around the world.

*A timely window on the world of Middle Eastern cinema, this remarkable overview includes many essays that provide the first scholarly analysis of significant works by key filmmakers in the region.

The crack of thunder, a blood-curdling scream, creaking doors, or maybe complete silence. Sounds such as these have helped frighten and startle horror movie audiences for close to a century. Listen to a Universal classic like Dracula or Frankenstein and you will hear a very different soundtrack from contemporary horror films. So how did we get from there to here? What scared audiences then compared to now? This examination of the horror film's soundtrack builds on film sound and genre scholarship to demonstrate how horror, perhaps more than any other genre, utilizes sound to manipulate audience response. Beginning with the Universal pictures of the early 1930s and moving through the next nine decades, it explores connections and contrasts throughout the genre's technical and creative evolution. New enthusiasts or veteran fans of such varied films as The Mummy, Cat People, The Day the Earth Stood Still, Psycho, Halloween, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Scream, The Conjuring, Paranormal Activity, and A Quiet Place will find plenty to explore, and perhaps a new sonic appreciation, within these pages.

This book follows the hybrid and contradictory history of magic realism through the writings of three key figures – art historian Franz Roh, novelist Alejo Carpentier, and cultural critic Fredric Jameson – drawing links between their political, aesthetic, and philosophical ideas on art’s relationship to reality. Magic realism is vast in scope, spanning almost a century, and is often confused with neighbouring styles of literature or art, most notably surrealism. The fascinating conditions of modernist Europe are complex and contradictory, a spirit that magic realism has taken on as it travels far and wide. The filmmakers and writers in this book acknowledge the importance of feeling, atmosphere, and mood to subtly provoke and resist global capitalism. Theirs is the history of magic-realist cinema. The book explores this history through the modernist avant-garde in search of a new theory of cinematic magic realism. It uncovers a resistant, geopolitical form of world cinema – moving from Europe, through Latin America and the former Soviet Union, to Thailand – that emerges from these ideas. This book is invaluable to any reader interested in world modernism(s) in relation to contemporary cinema and geopolitics. Its sustained analysis of film as a sensory, intermedial medium is of interest to scholars working across the visual arts, literature, critical theory, and film-philosophy.