Thirteen celebrated critics offer a variety of reviews on the outstanding cinematic achievements of the 1969-70 film season.

Advised to protect their graduate student husbands from stress, three women face confl icts within each marriage amid anti-war protests, drug use, racial unrest and the emerging feminist movement. Told from the women’s perspectives, the story begins in harmony, but turns to discord as: • Meg struggles to balance motherhood with her own academic ambitions, and copes with her husband’s violent mood swings; • Rosemary, daughter of a British coal-miner, copes with her upperclass husband’s verbal abuse; • Terry, an artist familiar with the drugs of the time, married to a former Navy SEAL, balances her anti-war activism against her husband’s Vietnam memories.

Haidee Wasson provides a rich cultural history of cinema's transformation from a passing amusement to an enduring art form by mapping the creation of the Film Library of the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), New York, established in 1935. The first North American film archive and museum, the film library pioneered an expansive moving image network, comprising popular, abstract, animated, American, Canadian, and European films. More than a repository, MoMA circulated these films nationally and internationally, connecting the modern art museum to universities, libraries, women's clubs, unions, archives, and department stores. Under the aegis of the museum, cinema also changed. Like books, paintings, and photographs, films became discrete objects, integral to thinking about art, history, and the politics of modern life.

In cognitive research, metaphors have been shown to help us imagine complex, abstract, or invisible ideas, concepts, or emotions. Contributors to this book argue that metaphors occur not only in language, but in audio visual media well. This is all the more evident in entertainment media, which strategically "sell" their products by addressing their viewers’ immediate, reflexive understanding through pictures, sounds, and language. This volume applies cognitive metaphor theory (CMT) to film, television, and video games in order to analyze the embodied aesthetics and meanings of those moving images.

First published in 1897, Bram Stoker's Dracula has never been out of print. Yet most people are familiar with the title character from the movies. Count Dracula is one of the most-filmed literary characters in history--but has he (or Stoker's novel) ever been filmed accurately? In its third edition, this study focuses on 18 adaptations of Dracula from 1922 to 2012, comparing them to the novel and to each other. Fidelity to the novel does not always guarantee a good movie, while some of the better films are among the more freely adapted. The Universal and Hammer sequels are searched for traces of Stoker, along with several other films that borrow from the novel. The author concludes with a brief look at four latter-day projects that are best dismissed or viewed for ironic laughs.

From the female soldiers of Abu Ghraib prison to Palestinian women suicide bombers, women and their bodies have been "powerful weapons" in the Afghanistan and Iraq wars. Kelly Oliver reveals how the media and the George W. Bush administration used metaphors of weaponry to describe women and female sexuality and forge a link between vulnerability and violence. Oliver analyzes the discourse surrounding women, sex, and gender and the use of women to justify America's decision to go to war. She also considers the cultural meaning, or lack of meaning, that lead female soldiers at Abu Ghraib to abuse prisoners "just for fun," and the commitment to death made by women suicide bombers. She examines the pleasure taken in violence and the passion for death and what kind of contexts creates them. Oliver concludes with a diagnosis of our fascination with sex, violence, and death and its relationship with live news coverage and embedded reporting, which naturalizes horrific events and stymies critical reflection.

We often picture life on the Canadian home front as a time of austerity, as a time when women went to work and men went to war. A Small Price to Pay, the first full-length study of consumer culture in wartime Canada, explodes this myth of home front sacrifice by bringing to light the contradictions of consumer society during the Second World War. Wartime governments pressured Depression-weary citizens to save for the sake of the nation, but Canadians had money in their pockets after years of want, and the fantasy realm of advertisements promised them fresh groceries, glamorous movies, and new cars and appliances. Graham Broad reveals that our “greatest generation” was not impervious to temptation but rather embarked on one of the biggest spending booms in our nation’s history. Cutting through the fog of patriotic enthusiasm, this richly illustrated book reveals that the consumer-spending boom of the 1950s and 1960s was not a “postwar” phenomenon after all.