Like any sensible person, we at Bright Lights welcomed Julian Assange and the wikileaks gang when they blasted the lid off corruption and criminality in governments and corporations near and far. Surely payback time for these miscreants was long overdue. We were shocked, however, when we discovered among the document dump a series of top-secret Bright Lights emails exchanged among certain BL writers. We admit we were apoplectic when we read some of the comments, not only because of the crushing disloyalty they represented in repudiating everything Bright Lights stands for, but also because of the vitriolic tone. (Poor Igor was so overcome he had to be hospitalized; he remains in "okay" condition according to his nurse.)

We had no idea that these writers — who were supposed to be in their cubicles reading old issues of Cahiers du cinema and Positif and diligently revising and updating Sarris's American Cinema categories — were in such a tizzy. Their words were indeed mutinous: "Sarris's 'canon' is more like a pop gun!'" asserted one. "We don't need a taxonomy of cinema," claimed another, "we need more porn!" "Fuck mise-en-scene!" said a third. Neither directors nor actors were spared. "All directors should be at the nearest deli getting sandwiches for the real auteur: the screenwriter!" "Bresson is a boring hack! My toenail clippings could give a better performance than Balthazar!" and "Orson Welles isn't a patch on Ford Beebe's ass!" (For some reason, the writers seemed particularly obsessed with Ford Beebe, auteur of 1940s and '50s programmers like Bomba and the Hidden City and many others.)

We'll refrain from quoting any further, as Bright Lights is a family publication. Be assured, though, that we are on the case. These Benedict Arnolds will be heading to re-education camps we've set up to help them reflect on what they've done and reacquaint themselves with the glories of classical auteurism. We can't answer for those who cannot, or will not, cooperate, but we're hopeful. The CIA and the Justice Dept. have been wonderfully helpful in providing psychologists, strategies, and discreet facilities to aid in our rehabilitation effort. We'll update you on this sordid affair in the next issue!

Now that we've gotten that unpleasant business out of the way, let's move on to issue #71. Leading off is new contributor Richard Voletz's epic exploration of the Dr. Moreau theme in a bracing variety of manifestations. Welcome, Richard! BL Associate Editor Andrew Grossman juggles kids, killers, toys, McLuhan, Skinner, and more in a pyrotechnic performance called "Toys and Amateurs." Erich Kuersten cunningly identifies a new player in contemporary cinema, the "dad of great adventure," and shows why he's, alas, a problem. Erich expertly extends that discussion in a sure-to-be-controversial smackdown of the conservative values spouted in The Kids Are All Right. Erich also weighs in with his top 10 from 2010. Horror gets its due courtesy of Jesse Stommel and Stephen Harris, the former convincingly capturing the disturbing pleasure we feel at visual horror (via Silence of the Lambs and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre), the latter using Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer and Ballard's "atrocity exhibition" in a fine riff on American " violence, sex, media, and entertainment."

This issue seems to specialize in surprises. BL Associate Editor Lesley Chow goes where few would dare — the soap opera, daytime and nighttime versions — and with her usual brilliance uncovers an unexpectedly fertile cultural space. New contributor Sean Nortz, in a dazzling display, takes a look at another rarely noticed treasure, Zugsmith's innovatively weird exploitationer Confessions of an Opium Eater. Joseph Natoli examines Gordon Gekko, Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps, and the present miseries with authority and maybe a little hope. Our pal Dave Saunders dabbles delightfully in Simenon, Broken Flowers, mortality, and more from his eyrie at Cardiff-by-the-Sea.

Mervyn Nicholson finds new things to say about Hitchcock in an evocative essay on how "boring" — but in a good way! — Psycho is. And he proves it with plenty of images. BL Associate Editor Alan Vanneman lays the lorgnette on the Astaire/Caron musical Daddy Long Legs and tells us why we can watch it without feeling too bad. Also under his eagle eye this time is The Social Network, which he attacks with his trademark brio. Gordon Thomas takes on the restored cut of the indispensable Metropolis and convinces us that some mysteries are better left unsolved. Gordon also gives us the lowdown on a number of recent DVD releases in another splendid edition of "Bright Sights."

We don't always know the location of one of our favorite writers, Jacob Mikanowski (Warsaw or Berkeley?), but his dispatches are always welcome. This time he covers Uncle Boonmee, Of Gods and Men, and ten worthy entries from the Warsaw and Chicago International Film Fests. Matt Sewell, in the second of his "Short Takes" column offering close readings of a single shot, meticulously analyzes a startling sequence in La Dolce Vita that wreaks havoc on the viewer's perception. Kelli Marshall helps us understand that inexplicable musical number ("Aquarius") at the end of The 40-Year-Old Virgin, while Robert Ecksel clarifies why The Black Swan isn't exactly what it seems to be. New contributor Barbara Eckroad wraps up the film reviews with a lively take on the underrated Fido.

Stars surely deserve the "star treatment," and that's what they get at Bright Lights. BL stalwart Imogen Smith contributes a nuanced study of the paradoxical Trevor Howard, while newbie Eloise Ross skillfully probes the "superbody" of "SuperBob" — Robert Downey Jr., that is. Of course, at Bright Lights, we're all about the director, the auteur (contrary to some recent opinions you may have heard from disgruntled, perhaps soon-to-be-ex-employees if they don't shape up), and this issue features four, three from new contributors. Jake Wilson offers a breathtaking look at Blake Edwards that shows why his work is important. Pat Kewley excavates pioneering stop-motion guru Ladislaw Starewicz (and his cast of roaches; squeamish viewers beware) in an excellent survey, and Mark Dow takes on the remarkable Frederick Wiseman in a thoughtful piece. Matt Sorrento's interview with director Frankie Latina and producer Sasha Grey nicely illuminates their tribute to the classic exploitation film, Modus Operandi.

Some of our writers managed to put down the remote control long enough to read a book, and they kindly sent along their reviews — six this time. BL veteran Matt Kennedy discusses the new Liz and Dick bio, Furious Love, while Joseph Aisenberg evaluates Peter Biskind's Warren Beatty bio, Star. New (or second-time) contributors John Carvill, Ian Hetherington, Ronald Bergan, and Andryn Arithson review, respectively, Thomson's Humphrey Bogart bio, Withnail and Us: Cult Films and Film Cults in British Cinema, From Rajahs and Yogis to Gandhi and Beyond: Images of India in International Films of the 20th Century, and Asian Horror. A special thanks to these folks for keeping the faith, book-wise.

And a tip of the hat to you readers, who I'm sure will remain faithful to Bright Lights, unlike some people whose names I won't mention . . . yet.

Gary Morris