Recently we took time off from staring into space to check out what's happening in the "real world" and were surprised at how everything has gotten so "biggified." It's not just the waddling populace; nature itself is demanding fries with its shakes. Volcanoes are no longer content with slow-moving magma; they now insist on sending up pyroclastic plumes that grind international travel to a halt. Earthquakes don't just shake things up; they wipe out huge populations. In less sacred realms, Wall Street, which practically pushed the world economy off a cliff, continues to rake in profits beyond imagining by betting on when we'll fall. Even QVC is getting in on the act, recently marketing a knock-off "Hope Diamond" (the original's a whopping 45 carats) to their grim, working-class demographic. At least we can all look stylish as we hurtle toward oblivion.

We decided to be part of the problem rather than the solution in the supersize sweepstakes; this issue features a whopping 40 articles, profiles, and reviews. The centerpiece of our new campaign is Gregory Stephen's critique of King Corn and Fast Food Nation, a tour de force that riffs mightily on eco- and economic exploitation, racism, and a host of other timely themes. Other politically minded pieces include Ilan Kapoor's provocative discussion of The Cove and why it deserves less acclaim than it got; and Sara Villa's heady analysis of Breakfast on Pluto as a contested space between IRA macho-ism and the lead character's disruptive transsexuality. Speaking of things queer, Peter Forster offers a bracing read on Eastern Promises both as "queer noir" and in terms of its curious critical reception.

With horror the general emotional state of much of the populace these days, it's no surprise that this issue has several nods to the genre. Maximilian Werner manages an entirely new approach to films like The Ring, The Shining, The Exorcist et al. in his discussion of the evolutionary basis of fear. Mark Chapman disinters the postmodern vampire through a persuasive discussion of Claire Denis' Trouble Every Day. He also sketches that depressingly prescient Michael Powell classic Peeping Tom. Jon Lanthier clarifies much about Scorsese's overrated Shutter Island through an inspired conceit: phrenology. Erich Kuersten focuses his eagle eye on the fantasy horrors of the Twilight saga (and the complex feminism therein) as well as the real-life terrors of the military mindset (Patton) and 1950s drugs 'n' family madness (Bigger Than Life). Horror's twin, sci-fi, gets the once-over three times here, in Lesley Chow's elegant take on Joss Whedon's TV show The Dollhouse; Mervyn Nicholson's thoughtful excursion into the minimalist pleasures of Star Trek (the TV show); and Lee Sabo's frontal assault on Kick-Ass. And speaking of superheroes, Bruno Mikanowski and Dorian Fox engagingly mix the philosophical and the personal in discussions of three cult TV classics (Cowboy Bebop, Batman: The Animated Series, and Renegade) and Where the Wild Things Are.

There's nothing like looking backward for reassurance, however transitory, and this issue features a number of pieces from that vantage point. BL Associate Editor Andrew Grossman uses Meyerhold's melodrama Boris Godunov as a springboard for another brilliant exercise in cultural critique. Eric Wilson discovers the complex identities, real and cinematic, of Cary Grant. Cullen Gallagher somehow saw a print of Sturges' elusive The French, They Are a Funny Race and contributes a sympathetic review. BL Associate Editor Alan Vanneman continues his exhaustive series on Chaplin with a witty profile of The Great Dictator. Alan also confronts the documentary For the Love of Movies and yanks poor Ezra Goodman (author of The Fifty-Year Decline and Fall of Hollywood) out of his grave. Old-school joys continue with Imogen Smith's fine bio-analyses of two more Charleys: surrealist Bowers and sadly forgotten Chase. Dan Callahan celebrates the immortal Laurel and Hardy in a charming discussion. Two more articles are set in the 1920s: Chris Sandford's lively look at the original "Biograph Girl," Florence Lawrence, and Henry Rownd's intriguing research piece on one of the earliest 3D processes and the ill-fated movie that featured it.

Alas, we cannot live exclusively in the past (we know; we've tried) and must at least tip our hats to the now. As part of this effort, we feature Joseph Natoli's delightful look at Tim Burton's Alice that sees the film through Millennials' eyes. Amy Stotz convincingly frames Valentine's Day as evidence of how far we haven't come in terms of gender equality. Ian Johnston explains why The White Ribbon is different from Haneke's other films, and why it's the best. BL Associate Editor Megan Ratner attended Rendez-Vous with French Cinema in New York City and writes it up with her usual panache. Madison Brookshire rewardingly examines the "homegrown neo-realism" in Thom Andersen's Los Angeles Plays Itself. In interviews, Matt Sorrento gets the goods from noted noir promoter, and now filmmaker, Eddie Muller on his acclaimed short The Grand Inquisitor; and Zsolt Gyori had a revealing chat with noted "soundscapist" Peter Strickland, whose Katalin Varga won a Silver Bear at Berlin.

Wrapping things up, Gordon Thomas returns with his inimitable "Bright Sights" column, authoritatively analyzing such disparate films as Permissive, The Italian Straw Hat, Black Snow, and City Girl. Yours truly interviewed Jim McDermott as an excuse to feature more of his stunning artwork that graces Bright Lights. Finally, we haven't neglected that icon of old school, the book. Reviews include Matt Kennedy on America's Film Legacy and Robert Altman: The Oral Biography; Ian Johnston on A Short History of Cahiers du Cinéma; and Colm O'Shea on Hollywood Under Siege.

Welcome to all you new writers, and heartfelt thanks to all you regulars for being part of Bright Lights.

Now it's off to the smorgasbord, followed by a screening of Makavejev's Sweet Movie. Bon appétit!