Universal's pioneering and iconic film Dracula (1931) not only helped to establish Universal Pictures as the publics "go to" source for horror films, but it also used and created many film tropes that are still present in the horror genre today.

        The article is a review of Dracula, also known as Bram Stoker's Dracula, a 1992 horror/romance film produced and directed by Francis Ford Coppola, by Roger Ebert. This film was based on the actual novel Dracula by Bram Stoker and stars Gary Oldman as Count Dracula. In his three-star review of the film Ebert talks about in depth both the plot and the quality of the film. Although it is mostly a positive review, Ebert reflects on the fact that Coppola “seems more concerned with spectacle and set-pieces than with storytelling.” He additionally states that at times the narrative is confusing and has many dead ends. Nevertheless, he says that he enjoyed the movie simply because the way it looked and felt. At the end of the article, he states that cinematographer Michael Ballhaus and Production designers Dante Ferreti and Thomas Sanders had "outdone themselves.'

        The origin of this film is precisely how Universal's Dracula, and many of its other horror films, came to be. For many of the films during the “Universal Horror” years, their inspiration came from gothic novels, legends and stage plays. Mystery plays, where individuals travel to a house only to be spooked and scared by a supernatural (or not) being is another commonly adapted type of media. The concept presented in these films usually evolve from one telling to the next, refining and reshaping the narrative to suit the needs of the culture it resides in. Films like the Bram Stoker's Dracula are supremely important as they help to reinvigorate old ideas and stories. This director used modern cinematic techniques and effects to excite the audience about an old story they believed they knew well. Just like Universal did with Dracula in 1931, Coppola changes his story slightly to appeal to his contemporary audience. This is a commonplace occurrence within the horror genre and it serves as a method to keep it fresh as time goes on.

       This article is actually extremely interesting as it talks about the effects of Universal’s Dracula in the narratives native country of origin, Romania. Although the film was created in 1931, it was not until the collapse of Soviet rule that the film finally made it way to the Transylvanian countryside. Apparently, after this discovery, much of the Romanian economy was transformed as tourist attractions based on the figure sprung up to capitalize (literally) on their country’s infamy. Hotels converted themselves into castle like bed and breakfasts, ordinary coffins became stage props for midnight performances, and ordinary roads became dark and scary paths for haunted hayrides. Additionally, besides a growth in tourism, the commercial exploitation of Dracula and Transylvania received an extra boost through the increase in academic tourism – several  international meetings of scholars specializing in the horror genres began to take place there as well.
    It’s an intriguing idea that a simple novel written Bram Stoker could inspire a film that later spawns a small scale cultural and economic revolution for a little, seemingly ordinary nation. This fact proves that Dracula’s influence reached far past the borders of our own nation and affected cultures around the world. A simple search on Google images with terms like “Dracula Japan” shows that the iconic imagery contained within the 1931 film is still found in popular culture even on the other side of the world. The Universal version of Dracula served as the basis for all future retellings in popular culture. Perhaps it was Bela Lugosi’s eerie voice acting or Jack Pierce’s masterful make-up work, whatever the reason, the 1931 account of Bram Stoker’s Dracula established itself as the most recognizable version of the tale to date and possibly forever.

In February of 1931 New York Times journalist Mordaunt Hall reviewed Director Tod Browning’s film Dracula. Throughout his review the writer raves about the picture; even though his summarization, his excited tone is evident. Although within his short article he seems to be enamored with the fantastical idea behind of the film, he does concede that the acting of some individuals is sub par. He ends with the line “This film can at least boast of being the best of the many mystery films.”
    Although it may appear unassuming at first, this article is actually very telling. Not only does it describe how the critics and the public felt about the film in 1931, it now serves as a forecast for the success that Universal would see later on with its other horror films. The author readily acknowledges that the film is not a high class picture but one for the masses, aimed squarely at those with the imagination and courage to view it. And arguably, it came at no better time. With the great depression in full swing and a general sense of hopelessness abounding, America needed a way to escape. What better way to do it than a Universal Pictures horror movie? After all, not much can scare someone after they face down the idea of not having enough to feed their families day after day. Dracula, as well as Frankenstein, the Wolfman and the Mummy, served as icons of distraction that helped America get though hard times and ignite their imaginations. This service proved invaluable in these troubled times and ultimately resulted in their visible location in modern society.

Directed by James Whale and starring Boris Karloff as Frankenstein’s monster, Universals adaptation of the 1818 Mary Shelley novel Frankenstein was a crucial film in the studios line of horror pictures. Like Dracula, the film was released in 1931 and received critical acclaim from both critics and the public alike. The films narrative follows the now familiar plot of a mad scientist bent on creating a man from assorted dead parts and playing God. The twist occurs when the monster becomes uncontrollable and instead of creating man, Dr. Frankenstein creates a dreadful monster. By the end of the film, the local townspeople decide that the creation is an abomination and ultimately destroy it. The film was lauded because of its superb make-up, special effects and thrilling plot. It later spawned several sequels, prequels and side stories including Bride of Frankenstein and Frankenstein vs. the Wolfman.
    The true testament to the iconic nature of the film can be seen in the visual representations of Frankenstein that pervade the world today. Almost every single representation of the character we see in western society is based on the green skinned, bolted and shambling version presented to us by Universal in the early 1930’s. We see versions of Boris Karloff’s face on cereal boxes, cartoons and, of course, in the masks of Halloween costumes. The longevity of these images that occur in our culture is a genuine indicator of the success of the Universal horror line of films; they have become integrated into our popular consciousness and now represent the traditional fiends and monsters that we draw on for inspiration. Like with Dracula, Universal’s Frankenstein has become the most recognizable version of the monsters narrative, even more so than the original work by Shelley. Because of these reasons, Universal was able to establish itself as the best studio producer of horror films of the 20th century.

Written by Michael Atkinson in 1998, this article was featured in the Village Voice film section. In its paragraphs it describes a number of classic horror films a person could bring his or her family to. Atkinson stated that during the hey-day of horror films during the 1930s and 1940s the films must have supplied thrills and fun for depression era movie goers. He contends that their age now makes them more appealing to young boys and lovers of camp. With titles like Frankenstein vs. the Wolfman, who can blame him? Because of this, Atkinson states, the films are now more humorous than scary. He does however say that Universal Horror had a large influence on popular culture. He states:

    This small handful of films are responsible for more specific cultural touchstones than the era's westerns, musicals, and gangster films combined: Jack Pierce's flat-headed Frankenstein monster makeup and hotwired-Afro Bride design, Lugosi's accent, the hunchbacked lab assistant, the mad scientist, the throbbing electrical hardware of the lab itself, crowds of townspeople with torches, the details of werewolf myth (silver bullets, etc.), the vampire's old-world urbanity, and so on.

    Atkinson’s article for the most part is very agreeable. It’s blatantly obvious that the Universal horror films of the 1930s and 40s have begun to show their age. He eludes to the fact that horror films have evolved since then; this is very true. Films now contain much more gore, special effects, nudity and action. The modern audience has been desensitized to the traditional scares of yesteryear. The horror genre has come a long way since 1931 as the society that creates these narratives alters its own tastes as time marches on. In the 60’s we had the underhanded thrills of Hitchcock, the 80’s brought the blood with the likes of Freddy Krueger, and with the new millennium our society has found itself with the over-the-top style of the Saw series. Yet what these newer films lack is the other point Atkinson contends with within his article. The classic films that he highlights, especially ones like Dracula and Frankenstein, have engrained themselves in our national consciousness and have become a part of our collective identity. While today they may seem cheesy, at their release these films were truly terrifying tales about monsters that go bump in the night.

This chapter of Film History: An International Journal was dubbed Sauerkraut & Sausages with a Little Goulash: Germans in Hollywood, 1927. The chapter dealt with the influx of German filmmakers into Hollywood during the 1920s and early 30s. Additionally, it talked about in detail the union of the styles of German expressionism and Hollywood, and its effects on the national and international film industries. Fleeing an increasingly more fascist Germany, these filmmakers brought with them techniques and skills that Hollywood readily adopted. The author further sustains that these filmmakers had an expressionist style that included a low key lighting design that was previously associated with German high art cinema. In 1930’s Hollywood, this technique was applied mostly to the classic horror films that we know today.
    German expressionism was extremely important in the development of the horror genre. Starting with Nosferatu in 1922, a unique take on Bram Stoker’s Dracula story, horror films used expressionistic techniques to their advantage. Shadows, contrasting lighting, heavy make-up and special effect are all expressionistic techniques that persist in the horror genre even to present day. Films during the 1930s were especially influenced by the style because many of the German immigrants, like Dracula cinematographer Karl Freund, went straight from their motherland to Universal Pictures where they began work on the horror classics we cherish today. German expressionism, while having a relatively short lifespan, greatly influenced film style worldwide and shaped Hollywood horror more so than anything else.

The writer of this article discusses a book called Hollywood Gothic: The Tangled Web of "Dracula" from Novel to Stage to Screen. Within his article he summarizes the book and talks about its more interesting aspects and ideas. According to his details, the text deals with many adaptations of the popular legend, both mainstream and obscure. While the book’s author mentions the 1931 version of Dracula with Bela Lugosi, he seems to mostly focus on another version by George Melford and Carlos Villiaras. This other version of the Bram Stoker narrative was also made by Universal in 1931 and even used the same script and sets. However this edition was filmed in Spanish as it was going to be distributed to Mexico and Spain. The book’s author argues that this version not a mere clone but is vastly superior to the American version in both cinematic style and performances. Within the book the author also recounts the legal battles surrounding F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu. While this film was another adaptation of the Dracula legend popularized by Bram Stoker, it was not authorized by the authors and thus illegal. The books author contended that although it was illegitimate in the eyes of the law, this 1922 silent version was still a extremely entertaining and a well done film.
    As the author describes, the story of Dracula is one filled with many appropriations of his image and hundreds of adaptations. He also states that the 1931 Spanish language version of Dracula was one of the best uses of the narrative ever. To this, many would have to agree. However, the reason why this version reigns supreme within the world of cinema is chiefly because of the company that backed its production. Universal brought together the inventive minds of make-up artist Jack Pierce, Director Tod Browning and Cinematographer Karl Freund to create a memorable works whose echoes can still be felt within society today. Although many individuals may be able to create an adaptation of a horror story, few pulled it off as well as Universal Pictures and their collection of ingenious minds.

    This particular entry appeared in the St. James Encyclopedia of Pop Culture and was written by Austin Booth. Within its pages, Mr. Booth describes the monster Dracula, in almost all of his many incarnations, within the realm of popular culture. He of course talks extensively about the 1931 version of the narrative, but also finds time to pay homage to a wide variety of characters such as “Sesame Street's Count, Grandpa Munster, Blackula, Duckula, and Count Chockula.” He then describes the resurgence of interest in monster culture on television during the late 1950s and 1960s. Lastly, his entry focuses on the idea of Dracula as a foil or guide to view popular ideas of psychological and social issues.

    Dracula is interesting as he can represent a metaphor for several issues within our society. Some see him as the fear of homosexuals in bodily form. Others believe him to be representative of medieval aristocracy or the uncaring nature of nobility towards the proletariat. A few individuals even see him as the embodiment of his victims in fiendish form. While his physical forms may be analogous to one another, the ideas behind Dracula are much more amorphous. The count is a fascinating monster as his intentions and metaphors can be appropriated to match many circumstances. His status is ambiguous as both fiend and gentleman, hyper-masculine and feminine, ravenous and deliberate. His conflicting dualities lend him to fit within many roles; because of this filmmakers have adapted his persona to suit different eras and audiences.

Nosferatu was an early German horror film made in 1922 by director F.W. Murnau. While the film was one of the first cinematic takes on the Dracula legend, it was not actually approved by the Stoker estate. Because of this, all copies of the film were required to be rounded up and destroyed. However, the film was never fully suppressed because of the enormity of the task – the film had already spread across the globe and too many people did not want to part with it. Although the Stoker estate attempted to stop the spread of the film, it was already too late; the film had already achieved cult classic status as an eerie and otherworldly work. Today the film can be obtained for free legally as it has fallen into public domain.

    Nosferatu was extremely important to the development of both horror films and Dracula based narratives that followed it. Although illegal, as a German expressionist film the picture used several cinematic techniques that influenced Universal’s 1931 version and are still frequently in the genre today. In fact, many of the attributes of the film are now seen as staples of the horror genre. The use of low key lighting, shadows and special effects were all used in the creation of this silent film. When used together these visual effects helped the film establish the villain “Count Orlok” as a terrifying supernatural beast that should be feared. The chiaroscuro lighting that helped hide the monster in the shadows, show approaching danger and contrast images is still widely used in modern horror films.

This article featured in the trade journal Movie Maker glorifies the potential the Internet has for the film industry. From streaming videos to online rental stores, the Internet has revolutionized the way motion pictures are consumed. Not only does this new outlet seem profitable for the industry, but also convenient for audiences. With increasing digital capabilities, movies are becoming a media that audiences can interact with and access easily. The Internet in particular has drastically changed the movie industry in terms of advertising and viewing. Numerous websites are designed to stream full-length videos, such as Movielink.com. Netflix, a site known for its online rental services, is another site that is following this trend. Subscribers to Netflix can pay for monthly packages that allow for hours of streaming video. The author recognizes that the public may not be ready for such changes. As of now, people would prefer the comforts of their couch and big-screen tv when watching a movie.

Whereas these rental and streaming video websites are still evolving, studios have recognized the Internet's potential for publicity. The Internet has the ability to attract large audiences and target niche markets. This feature has a significant impact on smaller, low-budget films. Moviemakers can target films directly to their audiences and gain popularity through the net. This is exactly how the Blair Witch Project evolved into the phenomenon it became. A website that has expanded upon this idea is Customflix.com, which uses the Internet to promote independent films. These films, which may have disappeared due to lack of funding now can be viewed and sold online.

The article points out that "what we have learned from radio, television, video and DVD is that new media technologies tend not to replace existing modes, but to interact with them." The sales and marketing of film have reached new levels thanks to the web's capabilities. For example, MovieClub Online is a website that offers discounted movie tickets and video rentals, legally! They have joined with theaters and video store chains to make their site possible. Fandango is another company well known for online ticket sales.

Although this article highlights the advantages of the Internet, the author is overly optimistic and somewhat naive. Unfortunately, pirates have also benefited from these new technologies at the expense of the industry. It is important for my paper to note these innovations while also pointing out their downfalls.

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf (2 Disk Special Edition): Commentary by Mike Nichols. Dir. Mike Nichols. Perf. Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton. DVD. Warner Home Video, 2006.  The commentary track on the special edition DVD provides perhaps the most insightful perspective of the film as far as the on-set culture and interactions that occurred daily during the production of the film.  Nichols gives a very in depth explanation of each scene, which includes filming techniques, lighting issues, relationships between actors and cameramen, as well as script censorship issues.  For instance, Nichols explains how the studio forced them to change the explicative used by Martha as George opens the front door to greet the arriving guests. It was Nichols first feature film and was much different than the documentary style he was used to working with.  It was very interesting to hear about the different challenges that the crew faced depending on the scene.  Nichols also explains some of the back and forth battle that occurred between himself and the playwright Edward Albee as they attempted to adopt the Broadway play to the big screen.  It is a valuable resource for examining the mindset of the filmmakers as they challenged the PCA in order to present the film as the artist intended.

Lewis, John. Hollywood V. Hardcore: How the Struggle Over Censorship Saved the Modern Film Industry. New York and London: New York UP, 2000. 135-191. 

            Chapter 4, titled Hollywood v. Soft Core, examines arguably the most influential year of film censorship to date.  In this year, MPAA president Jack Valenti issued a press release to stating that a new production code/ move rating system would be put into place.  The same system is still used today to rate films.  The chapter does a good job of outlining the events of how this code came into place. The author explains how the "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf" was denied by the PCA but began production anyway, anticipating that change was to come.  It talks about the controversy over the language such as "screw" and "hump the hostess" were debated and the issues Valenti faced with content regulation.  In the end of the meeting, Warner Brothers appealed the PCA's preliminary ruling to deny Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf and the film was released.  Because of the films amazing success, it marked a point in history where the industry was beginning to understand that the Production Code was a dated system.  The film was released with a warning stating "for adults only" and ranked third in the box office list in 1966 behind two other mature-themed pictures. This chapter is very useful and entertaining in its explanation of the pressures and challenges that Valenti faced when negotiating the new rating system. It offers a very in depth perspective and takes the reader on a film by film journey of the controversy.

This article gives a fairly good description of the life of Jack Valenti, who arguably had more power over the motion picture industry than anyone who ever lived.  Paragraphs 9 through 16 are particularly useful for formulating a perspective on the era in which Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf was released. It explains how there was a compromise in which three out of four vulgarisms were cut. It also gives credit to the film Blowup for using Woolf's momentum to cause its own controversy with brief nudity and sexual themes.  Fearing that censorship power might return to the individual states, Valenti acted,” I knew I had to move swiftly, and I did,” he later recalled. “I was determined to free the screen from anything like the Hays Code. But I also emphasized that freedom demanded responsibility.”  Some interesting notes are the fact that the movie Gremlins inspired Valenti to add a PG-13 rating to the initial rating system.  Also, the X rating was changed to NC-17.  The author then touches on one of the downfalls of Valenti's rating system, "distributors have mostly spurned [NC-17 ratings] for commercial reasons, leaving many filmmakers to make wrenching cuts to adult-themed films in pursuit of an R rating."  This explains some of the controversy over the rating system that still goes on today.  The rest of the article continues to elaborate on his incredible life but is less valuable for examining film censorship.

Gardner, Gerald. The Censorship Papers: Movie Censorship Letters From the Hays Office, 1934 to 7968. New York: Dodd, Mead & Company, 1987. 198-200.This part of Chapter 17, Dramas From Broadway, offers a very informative look at the process of the PCA when reviewing the script of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf.  It tells of the meeting between Jack L. Warner and chief censor Geoffrey Shurlock.  After reading a copy of the play by Edward Albee the censor gave a list of all of the explicatives and phrases that would be considered unacceptable by the PCA, which the chapter lists completely.  This is a great example of the strictness of the PCA and its discretion towards strong language and sexual themes.  When the film was actually made, many of these phrases are omitted or altered.  The chapter goes on to explain how the Warner Brother's film held faithful to the Albee play.  It was denied by the PCA and was appealed to the MPAA board.  The chapter then lists the reasons why the MPAA decided to release the film after all.  The reasons were: The film was not designed to be prurient; Warner Brothers has taken the position that no person under eighteen will be admitted unless accompanied by a parent, and that the exemption does not mean that the floodgates are open for language or other material. This chapter is very useful for getting an inside look at the appeal process of the time and the drastic exceptions made on behalf of who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf.

This article covers the history of film censorship in the United States extensively.  It begins by explaining the different factors that lead up the self-regulation of the motion picture industry.  Then it goes over every detail of the MPAA rating system, fully explaining the G,M,R, and X ratings.  The article takes a turn when Bates attacks the rating system for its unconstitutional implications. He argues that films should not be limited in content because that would violate the filmmakers' First Amendment rights.  He then goes into detail the vast differences between government censorship and the MPAA system which "lacks procedural safeguards that would be required of a state classification scheme".  He then proceeds to attack the MPAA for their claims of not being a censorship agency.  Towards the end, Bates makes strong arguments for the implementation of state action concepts to MPAA film classification.  He explains the governmental-function, government-enforced, and state-inaction theories as possible alternatives to the current problem.  He also examines the theoretical scope of the Fourteenth Amendment.  Bates overall perspectives are very insightful for delving into the controversy of the MPAA system and the solutions he offers are very interesting and intuitive. His words serve to challenge the MPAA and any other organization that has seemingly unlimited power over people with little to no government intervention.

McCabe touches on Pabst passim. Of particular interest is her discussion of "H.D.'s unremitting admiration of Pabst--from Joyless Street to having 'vanquished the border-sphere' in Secrets of a Soul" (162). McCabe suggests that H.D. was attracted to Pabst's "feminine" film style which influenced her own film aesthetic.

Friedberg introduces her article with a look at the twin birth of psychoanalysis and cinema and argues that "Freud's theory of the unconscious. . .was, from the start, a theory in search of an apparatus. Yet the cinema, an apparatus which could reproduce and project specular images, from its beginnings, an apparatus in search of a theory" (41). Drawing on Chodorkoff and Baxter, Friedberg offers a reading of the history of the making of Secrets of the Soul, including Freud's rejection of the project. She calls the film the first 'that directly tried to represent psychoanalytic descriptions of the etiology of a phobia and the method of psychoanalytic treatment" (45). Friedberg points to the various ironic name puns having to do with Freud's lack of involvment in the film: that Pabst, the director of Joyless Street--Die FREUDlose Gasse (my emphasis) was asked to direct a film "mit Freud," when Freud refused to be involved; and that the actor who plays the pshychoanalyst in Secrets, Pavel Pavlov, shares his name with "Freud's mightiest theoretical opponent, the physiologist Ivan Pavlov" (46). Friedman goes on to describe and analyze the film, which she notes is separated into five parts: Pre-Dream; The Dream; Post-Dream; Analysis; and Cure. She notes that the happy ending of the film works as a kind of advertisement for psychoanalysis, arguing that Abraham and Sachs in consulting on the film, intented to "extol its curative virtues" (51).

Chodorkoff and Baxter provide a detailed historical account of the making of Pabst's Secrets of a Soul, taking it as an important example of post-World War I German film, which offers a "significant by forgotten aspect of the history of psychoanalysis" (319). They include a brief reception history as well as a look at the film's form and structure and the experimental nature of presenting dream on the screen in an historical context. They also quote extensively from the letters of Karl Abraham and Freud on the subject of the making of the film and film in general to show Freud's lack of interest in the project--Freud was concerned with protecting psychoanalysis from exploitation and delegitimation. Chodorkoff and Baxter's treatment of the dynamic between Abraham and Freud over film offers context to Freud's often-quoted assertion that "satisfactory plastic representation of our abstractions is at all possible" (323). But the authors find that despite Freud's notion that psychoanalysis could not be captured on film, the resulting film is better at representing psychoanalysis "plastically" than "verbally"--the film uses an excess of text in the form of titles (sub- and inter-), which take away from the film's successes. Finally, the authors read Secrets of the Soul as an historical document that sheds light on early psychoanalytic practice, and they end with a note on the repressed homosexuality in the film, which they suggest is exemplary of Weimer cinema.

Bergstrom examines the differences between Lang and Pabst's uses of "psychological explanation" in their films in order to show the wide spectrum of Weimar film's emphasis on psychology. She notes that while Pabst in such films as Pandora's Box and Secrets of the Soul emphasizes "'realistic' characters who are carefully individuated through psychological depth," Lang's characters are abstract types set up in contrast to institutions (163). Bergstom is not interested in psychoanalysis but in "how psychology is used at the narrative level" (164). Bergstrom reads Secrets of the Soul as didactic/educational film whose project is to legitimate psychoanalysis by showing how it works to diagnose and cure the film's central character. But she notes that the film is the least satisfying of those she examines because, while the main character is shown to have great psychological depth, the secondary characters are devoid of such depth.

Harrison, Stephanie.  Adaptations: From Short Story to Big Screen.  New York: Three Rivers Press, 2005.

Harrison’s book neither deals directly with Roeg’s film, nor with du Maurier’s short story that inspired it, but it is essential to any analysis of Don’t Look Now.  The process by which a director adapts a short story into film is important, because a short story is just that, short.  A director must take something that rarely lasts over fifty pages and turn in into a film that usually lasts over two hours.  A director must take the story and ‘run with it;’ in some ways making the story his own.  Harrison analyzes 35 short stories and the films they spawned.  She separates the films and analyses into sections based mainly on genre (Horror, Western, etc.).  Don’t Look Now is a hybrid film, so it would not snugly fit in any of the genres that Harrison chooses, but it does have horror, drama, erotica, and auteur elements to it.  Harrison describes four different auteurs (Altman, Hitchcock, Kubrick, and Kazan) and their individual styles of adaptation.  She calls Altman, for instance, the “translator” (3), because he attempted to stay as true as possible to the original story.  There is little to no literature written about Nicholas Roeg, so it is impossible to know whether or not he would fit in with any of the different auteurs.
    One point I found very interesting in Harrison’s analysis is her idea that audiences are less hard on films based on short stories for being true to their source material, because “few short stories are embedded in the public’s consciousness in a way that popular novels are” (xvi).  In the case of Don’t Look Now, both the story and the film seem to have been lost from the public consciousness (due, in part, to the success of The Exorcist, which was released the same year as Roeg’s film).  Harrison’s book, as I said above, never mentions Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now, but by looking at the process by which other writers have adapted short stories, we can get a sense of the different approaches to it and how Roeg many have gone about doing it.  Roeg took a fifty-four page short story about a man’s blindness to his abilities and his fate and refashioned it into an unsettling drama/thriller about a married couple and ...

Hutchinson, Tom. Horror & Fantasy in the Movies.  New York: Crescent Books, 1974: 13-36.

Hutchinson goes beyond merely mapping out the history of horror cinema, and dedicates the first chapter of his book to revealing the deeper meanings beyond certain horror films.  Behind the blood and monsters, Hutchinson sees social commentary and much more, which the average viewer is completely unaware of.  He events of The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) and concludes that its underlying message is, “that we ought to co-operate or else” (23).  Hutchinson writes that Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956), another 1950s sci-fi film, “carries a warning about loss of identity, an all-too-grim idea in a world where individuality is ironed out into uniform characteristics of thought and yes-saying” (23).
Hutchinson begins his analysis with the birth of cinema and the fantasy shorts of George Meliès.  He moves into German Expressionist films, such as Robert Weine’s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1919) and Fritz Lang’s Metropolis (1926) (19-21).  He also refers to Hitchcock’s The Birds (1963) and Jacques Tourneur’s Cat People (1942) as further examples of horror films with social messages (23).  Hutchinson argues though, that one cannot simply voice these messages, or warnings, to the audience directly.  As he says, they must be “wrapped up in trappings of tinsel before they will be accepted” (28).
Don’t Look Now (1972) is one of those films whose meaning is “wrapped in trappings of tinsel” (28).  Hutchinson explains that, “[Donald] Sutherland here carries the seeds of his own destruction within himself, but will never know it” (29).  Reflexively, we are placed in the same position as Sutherland, because we are also unable to interpret the signs to recognize the future (e.g. our doom).  Hutchinson’s argument is that, “[Sutherland] is time-trapped in the way that we all are, unable to move beyond his three-dimensional context” (29).  Hutchinson ties into a theme explored in other sources I have encountered, that of time and space (in Don’t Look Now).  He, unfortunately, does not give the theme an adequate explication (quickly moving to the next film), but he does place the film in relation to other horror films that do more than just scare.  One is easier able to understand Don’t Look Now, when placed in the context of other horror films...

Beginner's handbook on the business aspect behind making movies. Includes information about profits, trailers, contracts, etc.

Introduces the psychoanalytic approach to cinema. Uses movie examples such as 'Psycho' and 'Casablanca' to explore how particular story elements appeal to audiences. Also looks at the psychology of the characters in these movies.

A report on research into the effects on young people of scenes of violence in films and television. Examines not only the impact that movie violence has, but also the psychological determinants behind it. Very scientifically presented.

lots of movie related links