This was a guilty pleasure for me, though the guilt was low and the pleasure was high. As a fan of movies, particularly older ones, and history, I thoroughly enjoyed this unique angle on cinematic history. As far as cinema history goes, there are loads of books about this or that star, this genre, etc. I'm sure there are other books detailing the history of the Oscars, the industry, and maybe even awards ceremonies in general or specific awards, but this one was neatly organized into roughly chronological order by chapter, with each one centered around a particular, salient theme for the era at question. It's not exhaustive in the encyclopedic sense; instead, Schulman picks about 3 or 4 storylines and weaves them in and out of each other within the chapter, each buttressing the other to communicate the chapter's chosen theme. It's wonderful to read a bit of history where I can somewhat experience the time and era. I can't rightly take a lens and directly view the time of the Mongols or Julius Caesar, but we can all watch (most of) the movies detailed in cinematic history, given its relatively recency, and approximate the human living of the time being studied. It's, at least, about as close as I can reasonably get. This immediacy added a real sprinkle of verve and vivacity to the usual lesson most folks who read stories or histories tend to conclude: human events tend to have repeating, rhyming patterns. Hollywood, indeed labor, strikes are nothing new; politicking has gone on since the dawn of the academy; "the Oscars are always getting it wrong", as the book announces in its opening sentence; and reducing the complexity of art - not even life! - to winners and losers, and categories, tends to do best when everyone is equally displeased with the results. In short, the content of this book is unique and interesting, thoroughly researched and heavily cited (which I appreciate). The writing is highly competent; in fact, I found it quite easy to read and without much of the pomp and circumstance that New Yorker writers tend to have. (As an aside: I say that with great fondness, for that's what I go to the New Yorker for...see John McPhee, perhaps my favorite non-fiction writer.) If you're interested in the subject and are looking for a relatively easy read you can really sink your teeth into, this is the book for you. The page count is high, but it doesn't feel long, and it doesn't drag. This wasn't a chore to finish for me, and I think any movie fan would have a similarly nice reading experience.