This book examines why thousands of cinemas opened in Britain in the space of a few years before the start of the First World War. It explains how they were the product of an investment boom which observers characterised as economically irrational and irresponsible. Burrows profiles the main groups of people who started cinema companies during this period, and those who bought shares in them, and considers whether the early cinema business might be seen as a bubble that burst. The book examines the impact of the Cinematograph Act 1909 upon the boom, and explains why British film production seemed to decline in inverse proportion to the mass expansion of the market for moving image entertainment. This account also takes a new look at the development of film distribution, the emergence of the feature film and the creation of the British Board of Film Censors. Making systematic and pioneering use of surviving business and local government records, this book will appeal to anyone interested in silent cinema, the history of film exhibition and the economics of popular culture.

Come Now, Let Us Argue It Out provides a look into a community that challenges common narratives about what it means to be LGBTQ and Christian in the contemporary United States. Based on his participant-observation fieldwork with a faith-based organization called the Reformation Project, Jon Burrow-Branine provides an ethnography of how some LGBTQ and LGBTQ-supportive Christians negotiate identity and difference and work to create change in evangelicalism. Come Now, Let Us Argue It Out tells the story of how this activism can be understood as a community of counter-conduct. Drawing on a concept proposed by the philosopher and historian Michel Foucault, Burrow-Branine documents everyday moments of agency and resistance that have the potential to form new politics, ethics, and ways of being as individuals in this community navigate the exclusionary politics of mainstream evangelical institutions, culture, and theology. More broadly, Burrow-Branine considers the community’s ongoing conversation about what it means to be LGBTQ and a Christian, grappling with the politics of inclusion and representation in LGBTQ evangelical activism itself.  

Come Now, Let Us Argue It Out provides a look into a community that challenges common narratives about what it means to be LGBTQ and Christian in the contemporary United States. Based on his participant-observation fieldwork with a faith-based organization called the Reformation Project, Jon Burrow-Branine provides an ethnography of how some LGBTQ and LGBTQ-supportive Christians negotiate identity and difference and work to create change in evangelicalism. Come Now, Let Us Argue It Out tells the story of how this activism can be understood as a community of counter-conduct. Drawing on a concept proposed by the philosopher and historian Michel Foucault, Burrow-Branine documents everyday moments of agency and resistance that have the potential to form new politics, ethics, and ways of being as individuals in this community navigate the exclusionary politics of mainstream evangelical institutions, culture, and theology. More broadly, Burrow-Branine considers the community’s ongoing conversation about what it means to be LGBTQ and a Christian, grappling with the politics of inclusion and representation in LGBTQ evangelical activism itself.  

The birth of cinema coincided with the heyday of the short story. This book studies the relationship between popular magazine short stories and the very early British films. It pairs eight intriguing short stories on cinema with eight new essays unveiling the rich documentary value of the original fiction and using the stories as touchstones for a discussion of the popular culture of the period during which cinema first developed. The short stories are by authors ranging from the notable (Rudyard Kipling and Sax Rohmer) to the unknown (Raymond Rayne and Mrs. H.J. Bickle); their endearing tributes to the new cinematograph chart its development from unintentional witness to entertainment institution.

This book brings together the study of silent cinema and the study of British cinema, both of which have seen some of the most exciting developments in Film Studies in recent years. The result is a comprehensive survey of one of the most important periods of film history. Most of the acknowledged experts on this period are represented, joined by several new voices. Together they chart the development of cinema in Britain from its beginnings in the 1890s to the conversion to sound in the late 1920s. From these accounts the youthful British cinema emerges as far from innocent. On the contrary, it was a fascinatingly complex field of cultural and industrial practices. The book also includes guides to bibliographical and archival sources and an extensive bibliography.

This is the first new book-length study of British cinema of the 1910s to be published for over fifty years, and it focuses on the close relationship between the British film industry and the Edwardian theatre. Why were so many West End legends such as Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree and Ellen Terry repeatedly tempted to dabble in silent film work? Why were film producers so keen to employ them? Jon Burrows studies their screen performances and considers how successfully they made the transition from one medium to the other, and offers some controversial conclusions about the surprisingly broad social range of filmgoers to whom their films appealed.

This story is the direct result of me sitting in the Athens airport departure lounge waiting for my flight back to the UK, picking bits of bright green expanded polyurethane adhesive out of my hair and dark brown polyester resin from my beard. I think that the realisation that I had glued my feet into my boat shoes and stuck my toes together brought home the absurdity into which my life had descended. My situation was hammered home when the security people asked me to take off my shoes before I walked through the airport scanner. I had to tear great lumps of skin from my insoles to get the shoes off. What was revealed was akin to some disgusting tropical foot disease and brought horrified gasps from the security girl. All I could do was shrug my shoulders and say "I have a boat," and to most Greeks that explains everything. How often have you sat in a sterile workplace and dreamed of sun, blue sea and bright sunny islands? Does your dream involve a boat or the enchanted Aegean? Are you ready for the reality? The truth is that living your dream can be more akin to wrestling with demons or riding your nightmares. This is the story of my wife and I and a shared dream of cruising the eastern Mediterranean, basking in the hot sun, swimming in warm seas and enjoying the food and wine. However all of the years of our boating in Northern Europe could not equip us for the chaos and insanity we live every time we step aboard, nor did it equip us for the crazy and sometimes loveable people we regularly encounter. At first we thought that fate had specially selected us for its entertainment, but as the years have rolled on we have met others similarly cursed. And a curse it is. Crazy enough to make you want to sell up and walk away but perfect enough to make you want to go aboard time after time. So if you have the dream read this first and consider taking up golf. It's cheaper and safer.