Contributed an essay for the eye-popping new 4K Blu-ray of del Toro’s stylish Cronos — Fresh Blood: Vampire Cinema in the 1990s… (along with a slew of other extras, both on a second disc and the booklet)

Barry Forshaw

Savvy admirers of British film are well aware (or they should be) of the debt they owe to Josephine Botting, who as well as being a key curator at the BFI National Archive is one of the most perceptive commentators on the glories of UK cinema traditions. Apart from her sterling work at the BFI, her commentaries for the Blu-ray editions of a variety of films are always both informed and entertaining – never stinting on the scholarship, but remaining accessible. Literature on vintage British cinema has been relatively thin on the ground until recent years, and Botting’s new book, Adrian Brunel and British Cinema of the 1920s, is a useful adjunct to existing writing, channelling her assiduous archival research and marshalling a variety of sources. Brunel was a successful director in the 1920s, at ease in both short comedies and commercial Gainsborough features such as The Constant Nymph (1928). He was appointed studio production consultant, but his ascent was affected by encounters with studio politics; he was ultimately asked to resign from directing the film The Gentle Sex, leading to a hitch in his career progress.

Botting utilises the archives of Brunel as the perfect conduit for her study, and it would be nice to think that the book – particularly as it bears the imprimatur of Edinburgh University Press – might open the doors to a much neglected talent. We are reminded how British silent films were once held in the lowest esteem, and, with Brunel as a lodestone, Botting sees it as her task to open up this area for film students. There is also an examination of Alfred Hitchcock’s silent film work here – more familiar than most, principally due to the esteem with which that director is now held, with even his tyro efforts examined assiduously.

One effect of Botting’s study is, inevitably, to awaken in the viewer a desire to see some of this product again, but we are thankfully in an era when such things are more feasible. Botting’s employers, the BFI, have recently issued some of the early films directed by Michael Powell, and other companies have excavated the early work of the German director Douglas Sirk for the Blu-ray medium, so it’s possible that Adrian Brunel and British Cinema of the 1920s may be a Trojan horse that leads to the rediscovery of a crucial part of British cinema history.

Adrian Brunel and British Cinema of the 1920s is published by Edinburgh University Press

Barry Forshaw

As a much anticipated new film is in the offing from director James Gunn with a fresh iteration of the Man of Steel, it’s the perfect time for the high-end Folio Society to issue a sumptuous new volume, DC: Superman. This features specially selected stories written by such luminaries as Jerry Siegel (Superman’s original co-creator along with artist Joe Shuster, the latter of whose work – unsophisticated by today’s standards – is still beguiling) and later talents such as the United Kingdom’s most revered comics creator, Alan Moore – the latter, in fact, supplying the truly iconic Superman story, ‘Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?’, that rounded off an entire era for the character in truly memorable fashion. The artwork for this valedictory tale is by Curt Swan, one of the two most highly-thought of artists in the Silver Age of comics, defining the image of Superman for a generation (the other was Wayne Boring). Some might feel that these two illustrators (and ace writer Otto Binder) deserved more space in this highly collectable volume, but the decision was taken to feature just 12 classic stories, so it goes without saying that some judicious decisions had to be made – and it was right, for instance, to place as the final item in the book a fully painted adventure by another iconic illustrator, Alex Ross. Certainly, the stories collected here give a solid overview of Superman’s astonishingly detailed universe (brought to its most creative fruition by the acerbic DC editor Mort Weisinger) while dedicated collectors must accept the premise: you pays your money and you takes your choice. It’s not a hagiography – the shabby treatment of the original co-creator by their bosses is addressed here.

The Folio Society Superman tribute is a premium bibliophile volume featuring a dozen indelible Superman stories. It’s a strikingly crafted edition, with carefully curated reproductions of the artwork and a sturdy slipcase. What might persuade impecunious buyers to shell out the requisite cash may, however, be the inclusion of a lovely replica of one of the most highly priced comics of all time, Superman issue #1 (the other is the book that was the premier appearance of Siegel and Shuster’s groundbreaking superhero, Action Comics #1, and a rare letter from Jerry Siegel detailing Superman’s early concept). There is a certain charm to the inconsistency of this first issue: Superman’s boots inexplicably turn from red to blue at one point, and the famous ‘S’ shield often looks like an afterthought, rarely coloured in — or even finished! There is no denying, however, the appeal and influence of this first isszue. Justifying its £70 / $100 price tag, the collection is available exclusively at FolioSociety.com.