This issue is one free of theme, order, or even — as some cruel readers will undoubtedly tell us — sense, but that won’t stop us from publishing it. Indeed, our legions of fans may welcome the helter-skelter, crazy-quilt, simmering stewpot of goodies we’ve got lined up this time.

BL associate editor and curmudgeon Alan Vanneman continues his exhaustive trek through the sound stages of RKO that once hosted Astaire and Rogers. On a more gruesome note comes C. Jerry Kutner’s unflinching look at one of cinema’s most horrific creations: Old Yeller! (Kids: Be 21 or begone for this one.) Eminent movie scholar Joe McBride brings us out of the doggie depths and into the bright lights of George Cukor’s fabulous career. From Robert Castle comes a provocative linking of Scorsese’s "goodfellas" with the medieval knights of yore (readers are welcome to submit their definitions of "yore"). Wrapping up the Features Rotunda is a two-part tribute to Tod Browning’s stomach-churning meisterwerk Freaks.

The Sex ‘n Sadism Foyer revives the 1968 film De Sade, whose authorship is still in question, while other ‘60s grindhouse fare gets the once-over in yours truly’s sampling of Euro sex ‘n horror. Entering the Experimental Film Niche offers some welcome relief from such trash with a glance at the wonderful work of New York avant-garde master Abigail Child. And three film festivals get heavily cruised this time: two worthy San Francisco fests; and from the redoubtable Cleo Cacoulidis, a survey of rare documentaries from one of the most beleaguered of the world’s many hotspots of the last decade.

Homo Corner turns the lavender light on another rarity, the queer Indian film Bombay Boys, done to the nines by Andrew Grossman. And there’s a review of Nico and Dani, a fabulous stroll through gay teenage sexuality that’s both respectful of the boyz and, well, sexy. DVD and book reviews are a little thin this issue (compared to last issue’s elephantine list, at least of video reviews). But wonderful indeed is Vanneman’s review of Jazz on a Summer’s Day. (In another piece, the author spits back at The New Yorker’s Anthony Lane’s smug dismissal of Our Lady of the Compassionate Tube Top, Julia Roberts.) We’ll leave the reader to judge the merits of your editor’s look at Ulmer’s strangely fascinating The Pirates of Capri with the, well, sexy Louis Hayward. Two book reviews, of Mick LaSalle’s curiously overpraised revival of pre-code cinema Complicated Women, and Jan Stuart’s tribute to an Altman masterpiece, wrap it up