Something funny happened on the way to the May issue. We noticed that the "recent cinema roundabout" was almost empty, hosting just a single review: Robert Ecksel's thoughtful take on James Toback's documentary Tyson. We had to wonder: Is contemporary cinema so bereft that even BL's most stalwart zeitgeist-sniffers were retreating into the dreamy past of pre-Code and Gone with the Wind and F. W. Murnau? Was the very concept of subtext — so reliable in the past as a trigger for our authors' endless riffing — lost in a culture that's increasingly "knock-kneed" and "spavined" (to quote SF critic Damon Knight)? The presence of a virtual tidal wave of book reviews didn't settle my mind. Talk about old school! But a quick consult with Igor proved as soothing as one of his "happy ending" massages. Everyone's favorite slobbering hunchback says BL has not gone reactionary after all; we've just relocated our thoughts on contemporary film in festival reviews, yours truly's Little Stabs roundup, and our ever-changing blog, q.v. Whew!

Igor eased our mind on another issue, too. The veritable stampede of women from BL last issue has been reversed, he claims, and women (or should we say womyn?) can be found in force throughout this May number. Now that that's out of the way, let's settle back and enjoy one of our biggest and, dare we say, brightest issues to date!

Headlining this time are two articles that can only be described as coups: previously untranslated articles by one of the gods of filmcrit, Andre Bazin. Bert Cardullo has kindly made these documents — one on French Cinema, the other on Jacques Tati — intelligible to those of us who don't speak French. Kudos to Bert for taking the time and writing great intros, too. Also of major interest this time are Greg Ford's stunning exegesis of the work of Tex Avery (reprinted from two old print issues of BL), and Mark Adnum's tour de force on AIDS, nensha, and other unwelcome guests in cinema and culture.

Associate editor Alan Vanneman applies his fabled wit to Fred Astaire twice this time: first to the musical Let's Dance and then to Joseph Epstein's apparently overrated book on the legendary hoofer. Also "Vannemanized" is the strange and fascinating Busby Berkeley musical Hollywood Hotel. Another associate editor, Andrew Grossman, turns in a bravura performance courtesy of the infamous Nude on the Moon, but as usual, there's plenty more there to chew on. Meanwhile, Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice, Darwin, and a host of other cultural tropes become grist for Dave Saunders' mill in a rather enchanting piece on altruism and empathy.

Horror gets the high-five thanks to Noah Berlatsky and his deep probe of the Friday the 13th series. Speaking of monsters leads us to the empty guest room, presently occupied by that "Mother Demon Night" herself, Ida Lupino, expertly explicated by Dan Callahan. Rubbing elbows with Ida this time are James Mason (wonderfully profiled by first-time contributor Christopher Sandford); the glorious silent Chinese star Ruan Lingyu (beautifully limned by Lesley Chow); and the fabulous Lee Tracy (nicely nailed by Imogen Sara Smith). Old Hollywood gets even more attention via Gerald Peary's heartfelt interview with Joel McCrea. We also hear from James Toback on Tyson and other subjects in a cozy chat with Damon Smith; and from Iranian auteur Khosrow Sinai, in an extremely rare interview with Michaël Abecassis.

We can talk about pre-Code at the drop of a 401K plan, not least because it's getting increasingly hard to distinguish the present social landscape from that of the early 1930s. Our pre-Code warrior, Erich Kuersten, convincingly begs for help from Mae West as a 1930s symbol of sexual liberation; and in another piece, tackles the "Wild Boys" (of the Road) and "Midnight Maries," who are tough enough to take it. In a more rarefied realm, C. Jerry Kutner reminds us of the significance of great experimental art via a sharp review of a recent box set of "avant-garde treasures."

In another backward glance, we started a new feature devoted to those humble handouts, program notes, from the glory days of America's cine-club/cinephiles movement of the '60s and '70s. First up is a two-fer by the late Roger McNiven explaining why we should be watching Allan Dwan's Slightly Scarlet and The Woman They Almost Lynched. Readers hoarding fascinating ephemera like this are asked to send them along for consideration.

Two international film festivals hosted BL writers this time. Cleo Cacoulidis navigates through the Middle Eastern Cinema program of one of our favorites, Thessaloniki. And new contributor Frank Bren succinctly surveys the Hong Kong International, one we've long wanted to feature. The kind of shorter and pithy reviews found in these festival articles, and beloved by time-crunched if not entirely addled readers, can also be found in Gordon Thomas' Bright Sights, a fine round-up of recent "arty" DVD releases; and in yours truly's Little Stabs column, which is all over the damn place.

That leaves the book reviews, which number a whopping 11 here, making this issue arguably a "Special Book Review Issue!" In addition to Vanneman's aforementioned write-up of the Fred Astaire book, we're featuring excellent, and in some cases exhaustive, reviews of books on Charlie Kaufman et al. (Colm O'Shea); Douglas Fairbanks (Gordon Thomas); Jean-Luc Godard (new contributor Mike Miley); Michel Gondry (Erich Kuersten); Gone with the Wind (Matthew Kennedy); Jack Hill (Noah Berlatsky); Joseph P. Kennedy (Matthew Kennedy); Quentin Tarantino (Lesley Chow); and a brief round-up of two titles, Hollywood's Ancient Worlds and Movie Photos (Ann McKim).

Let the clicking begin!