Contributions by Zoe Bursztajn-Illingworth, Marc DiPaolo, Emine Akkulah Do?fan, Caroline Eades, Noelle Hedgcock, Tina Olsin Lent, Rashmila Maiti, Jack Ryan, Larry T. Shillock, Richard Vela, and Geoffrey Wilson In Next Generation Adaptation: Spectatorship and Process, editor Allen H. Redmon brings together eleven essays from a range of voices in adaptation studies. This anthology explores the political and ethical contexts of specific adaptations and, by extension, the act of adaptation itself. Grounded in questions of gender, genre, and race, these investigations focus on the ways attention to these categories renegotiates the rules of power, privilege, and principle that shape the contexts that seemingly produce and reproduce them. Contributors to the volume examine such adaptations as Quentin Tarantino's Death Proof, Jacques Tourneur's Out of the Past, Taylor Sheridan's Sicario and Sicario: Day of the Soldado, Jean-Jacques Annaud's Wolf Totem, Spike Lee's He's Got Game, and Jim Jarmusch's Paterson. Each chapter considers the expansive dialogue adaptations accelerate when they realize their capacity to bring together two or more texts, two or more peoples, two or more ideologies without allowing one expression to erase another. Building on the growing trends in adaptation studies, these essays explore the ways filmic texts experienced as adaptations highlight ethical or political concerns and argue that spectators are empowered to explore implications being raised by the adaptations.

Since the 1980s the number of women regularly directing films has increased significantly in most Western countries: in France, Claire Denis and Catherine Breillat have joined Agnes Varda in gaining international renown, while British directors Lynne Ramsay and Andrea Arnold have forged award-winning careers in feature film. This new volume in the Thinking Cinema series draws on feminist theorists and critics from Simone de Beauvoir on to offer readings of a range of the most important and memorable of these films from the 1990s and 2000s, focusing as it does so on how the films convey women's lives and identities.Mainstream entertainment cinema traditionally distorts the representation of women, objectifying their bodies, minimizing their agency,and avoiding the most important questions about how cinema can 'do justice' to female subjectivity: Kate Ince suggests that the films of independent women directors are progressively redressing the balance, and thereby reinvigorating both the narratives and the formal ambitions of European cinema. Ince uses feminist philosophers to cast a new veil over such films as Sex Is Comedy, Morvern Callar, White Material, and Fish Tank; and includes a timeline ofdevelopments in women's film-making and feminist film theory from 1970 to 2011.

Darren Aronofsky's Films and the Fragility of Hope offers the first sustained analysis of the current oeuvre of the film director, screenwriter, and producer Darren Aronofsky. Including Pi (1998), Requiem for a Dream (2000), The Fountain (2006), The Wrestler (2008), Black Swan (2010), and Noah (2014), Aronofsky's filmography is discussed with respect to his style and the themes of his films, making astute connections with the work of other directors, other movies and works of art, and connecting his films with other disciplines such as math, philosophy, psychology, and art history. Jadranka Skorin-Kapov deploys her background in philosophy and math to analyze an American filmmaker with an individual voice, working on both independent productions and big-budget Hollywood films. Aronofsky is revealed to be a philosopher's director, considering the themes of life and death, addiction and obsession, sacrifice, and the fragility of hope. Skorin-Kapov discusses his ability to visually present challenging intersections between art and philosophy. Concluding with a transcript of a conversation between the author and Aronofsky himself, Darren Aronofsky's Films and the Fragility of Hope is a much-needed study on this American auteur.

The acute processes of globalisation at the turn of the century have generated an increased interest in exploring the interactions between the so-called global cultural products or trends and their specific local manifestations. Even though cross-cultural connections are becoming more patent in filmic productions in the last decades, cinema per se has always been characterized by its hybrid, transnational, border-crossing nature. From its own inception, Spanish film production was soon tied to the Hollywood film industry for its subsistence, but other film traditions such as those in the Soviet Union, France, Germany and, in particular, Italy also determined either directly or indirectly the development of Spanish cinema. Global Genres, Local Films: The Transnational Dimension of Spanish Cinema reaches beyond the limits of the film text and analyses and contextualizes the impact of global film trends and genres on Spanish cinema in order to study how they helped articulate specific national challenges from the conflict between liberalism and tradition in the first decades of the 20th century to the management of the contemporary financial crisis. This collection provides the first comprehensive picture of the complex national and supranational forces that have shaped Spanish films, revealing the tensions and the intricate dialogue between cross-cultural aesthetic and narrative models on the one hand, and indigenous traditions on the other, as well as the political and historical contingencies these different expressions responded to.

This book uses popular films to understand the convergence of crime control and the ideology of repression in contemporary capitalism. It focuses on the cinematic figure of the fallen guardian, a protagonist who, in the course of a narrative, falls from grace and becomes an enemy of the established social order. The fallen guardian is a figure that allows for the analysis of a particular crime control measure through the perspective of both an enforcer and a target. The very notion of 'justice' is challenged, and questions are posed in relation to the role that films assume in the reproduction of policing as it is. In doing so, the book combines a historical far-reaching perspective with popular culture analysis. At the core remains the value of the cinematic figure of the fallen guardian for contemporary understandings of urban space and urban crime control and how films are clear examples of the ways in which the ideology of repression is reproduced. This book questions the justifications that are often given for social control in cities and understands cinema as a medium for offering critique of such processes and justifications. Explored are the crime control measures of private policing in relation to RoboCop (1987), preventative policing and Minority Report (2002), mass incarceration in The Dark Knight Rises (2012), and extra-judicial killing in Blade Runner 2049 (2017). The book speaks to those interested in crime control in critical criminology, cultural criminology, urban studies, and beyond.