<p> John Sayles was making independent films on short budgets well before “indie” became a trendy buzzword, yet unlike some of the flashier directors in his wake, stardom eluded him. Although Steven Soderbergh\'s <em>sex, lies, and videotape </em>(1989) is often cited as the turning point in the indie boom, David R. Shumway\'s book <em>John Sayles</em> (published as part of the University of Illinois Press\' Contemporary Directors series) regards Sayles\' <em>The Return of the Secaucus Seven</em> (1980) as a crucial milestone. Aside from inadvertently inspiring <em>The Big Chill</em>, <em>Secaucus Seven</em> laid new roads for the distribution of indie films and set an example: it\'s possible to find good audiences and turn a good profit on movies without stars on subjects Hollywood won\'t touch. </p> <p>Shumway moves lightly across Sayles\' life, focusing instead on revealing, film-by-film critical analysis. What emerges from his careful consideration runs contrary to misconceptions that have sometimes distorted Sayles\' reputation. Like most anyone worthwhile, the director has been attacked from all sidesby rightward critics who deride his political themes as well as disengaged cultural studies creeps whose once fashionable Theories are at odds with any artist seeking to illuminate our world. </p> <p>Sayles is a man of the left but not naïve or narrow focused. Acutely aware of the complexity of social and political problems, he\'ll present a scenario without imposing an answer. He\'s not a propagandist. If there are often bad guys in Sayles\' films, the good guys are usually flawed or uncertain. The liberal physician in the unnamed Latin American setting for <em>Men with Guns</em> (1997) is living in a delusion; the rebels do bad things even if the military regime does worse. In <em>Matewan</em> (1987) the union organizer in coal country struggles unsuccessfully with the ideal of non-violence in a violent society. </p> <p>More concerned with content than form, Sayles has been willing to try many approaches in the service of his storytelling. The pre-modern Irish setting of <em>The Secret of Roan Inish</em> (1994) could be called mythic realism and in <em>Lone Star </em>(1996) the conventions of murder mysteries and westerns are employed at cross-purposes with their familiar Hollywood iterations. Community, locality and history have been Sayles\' enduring themes across many genres. Few recent directors inside or outside of Hollywood have pursued them as intelligently. </p>
