Censorship is an emotive subject and only the most sterling of historians venture into the minefield of cultural regulation. Tony Aldgate and James Robertson skilfully avoid either defending or denouncing the practices of the Lord Chamberlain's Office or the British Board of Film Censors, instead sitting admirably on the fence in this intriguing attempt to draw together the parallel worlds of the theatre and film censor. Aldgate and Robertson's book is a timely contribution, providing a valuable historical framework for comparing the practices of censorship in the theatre and film worlds. -- Sian Lewis Journal of British Cinema and Television Censorship is an emotive subject and only the most sterling of historians venture into the minefield of cultural regulation. Tony Aldgate and James Robertson skilfully avoid either defending or denouncing the practices of the Lord Chamberlain's Office or the British Board of Film Censors, instead sitting admirably on the fence in this intriguing attempt to draw together the parallel worlds of the theatre and film censor. Aldgate and Robertson's book is a timely contribution, providing a valuable historical framework for comparing the practices of censorship in the theatre and film worlds.