As a Cinema Historian, archivist, and collector, I especially enjoy being on just about everyone's mailing list. This results in an influx of catalogues. Always one of my favorites is the latest from the Midnight Marquee Press. Of the many books offered by this small, but dedicated press are two edited by Gary J. Svehla and Susan Svehla called Guilty Pleasures of the Horror Film and Son of Guilty Pleasures of the Horror Flim.
The Kinema Archives houses many periodicals from the house of Gary and Susan Svehla. It makes one pine for the days of FanEx when one could visit their table and peruse the piles of literary treasures on display. Like all true MonsterKid-friendly dealers, a bargain could always be gotten. The more one bought, the more one could get a deal and all were interesting and welcome additions to any and all libraries of fantastic literature.
Both Guilty Pleasures books offer interesting insights into B movies such as Rodan, Two Lost Worlds, The Indestructible Man, The Tingler, Frankenstein's Daughter, Robot Monster and Giant Gila Monster among others.
True, as the titles of the books would indicate, as well as the catalogue descriptions state, these are far from cinematic masterpieces. Yet because they are less than perfect (or even good by any sense of the word) they are still fun to watch and entertainingly so. Personal reasons why they are treasured are given in individual essays by authors like Tom Weaver, John Parnum, Gary Don Rhodes and Don Leifert. These reasons ring true. The cover of the first book is a different design than the one housed in the Kinema Archives, but the content is the same.
These two books offer a counterbalance to how these films are written about in other books; mainly 'scholar' Bill Warren's Keep Watching the Skies. The above mentioned films, along with many others, get far less than positive individual treatments in his third (count 'em three) refurbished edition of his work. In a film genre he claims to have a true affection for he finds a variety of truly pseudo-creative ways for trashing them, as well as insulting the 'auteurs' involved.
Truly, one could view these films, research them by consulting previously published accounts and critiques, seek out and interview people involved in the making of them, and offer personal opinion, but determining them to be guilty pleasures provides refreshing insight.
Many of the other book titles offered in the Midnight Marquee Press catalogue, as well as Warren's opus, are all welcome additions to the Kinema Archives, too.