Essentially...Well...Uhhh...This book is what we in academic circles like to....uhhh....call -- crap. You see, what he is trying to do here is....uhhh....well....essentially trying to stroke his own prodigious, shall we say, ego. In Mr. Stowell's, well, shall we say, essentially happily fascistic world, James and Chekhov, are, well, essentially, uhhh....well, not worth more than the value of a good screening of Blue Chips (a fine film he seems to uhhh, well....well he seems to essentially say is, uhh, well....essentially better than, well....Schindler's List -- a highly stylized film, that uhh, well, he seems to essentially say never appraches the cultural essence (before existence), of uhhh....well....say John Ford.)

Nevertheless! It is Mr. Stowell's esteemed reputation as one of the country's foremost film educators (of those film educators that never actually created, conceived, worked, or did anything with any film other than a cheapie biker film some 30 years ago)that suffers from his wholly uncharacteristic ego, bluster, and ignorance of the subject he intends to educate others of (wholly uncharacteristic!) that bog this poor piece of work down to the ground. Such misfortune!