First things first: this is a scholarly text, and should be read as such. The author manages to flirt with being a popular writer, particularly in his descriptions of the films examined throughout, but his role as a professor is apparent. Buyer beware, I suppose.
As a professor of modern studies and Marxist, Steven can come off as a bit masturbatory at times, though I think it would be a bit harsh to actually brand him as such. His florid prose is only slightly less complex than the intricacies he tries to dissect, which is no small feat in my opinion. The book is trying to pull together a tableau of stars into something resembling a constellation, and I’m sure it took quite the effort to pull it off.
One concern I have is that the premise presupposes that the reader has already accepted that exegetic viewing is always valuable or insightful, which I am only mostly convinced by. It is true that the Marxist dialectic states that cultural production lies atop socioeconomic relations, making film a pretty obvious bud pushing its way out of the productive soil. However, people don’t think in straight lines, and Steven’s use of the term “economic intelligence” gets dangerously close to outright stating that there is a conscious effort not to necessarily “make a statement” with a film, but that it was crafted by a consciousness armed with epistemological tools for deciphering the nature of capital.
However, I am pretty compelled by the notion of ideology’s total capture of the psyche, making the author, art, and reader all not only receptive to the stimulation of filmic representation of hegemony, but divided crystallizations of hegemonic ideology themselves. As such, the tide of history moves all. Basically, we all know the vibe, and if I can be really reductive, Mark Steven is trying to track down the vibes that films are attuned to. To a critical thinker such as himself, to understand the superstructure is to understand the structure and vice versa.
Being a critic, or at least a good one, is to be a detective. You’re not just giving a list of what’s good or bad, you’re trying to help an audience come to a better understanding of what’s happening in the art being critiqued, but what can be credited (or blamed) for producing that work of art. That takes a trained suite of senses and a lexicon that not everyone else has access to. Steven is clearly practiced at teaching, as he comes very close to being able to communicate the knowledge being created through his research to a popular audience. I’m not sure if it’s totally possible to do that, given the subject matter, but he made a damn fine effort. Sometimes being a detective can direct one toward phantom clues, and though Steven makes a compelling argument for each link in the constellation, you do get the sense that he is reaching for something that may not quite be there, even if the point being made is salient all the same.
To wrap up, I highly suggest this book as both a fan of horror films and a leftist who could always use a chance to brush up on historiographic theory. There are surprisingly concise and cogent criticisms of capitalism here as well as a collection of critical reviews that make me wish Mark Steven had a Letterboxd account. Don’t expect it to be the easiest read, but don’t be intimidated, either. It rewards your effort fully.