Never judge a book by its cover. Shooting To Kill's is glamtastic indeed: a blond-tressed Ewan McGregor besieged by shimmering hot pinks and mirrored silvers. Bloomsbury are peddling this on the broad-back of the Velvet Goldmine express and you can scarcely blame them. But prospective purchasers would do well to scout its pages in-store - a serious interest in the labyrinthine intricacies of indie-film is door-policy.

Not that it's sold under false pretences. It was largely written soon after Vachon's stint as producer on the film - her third production for director Todd Haynes (Poison, Safe) - and thus the best chapters come from her detailing of the fraught preparation and shooting of the Glam-stomp epic. Like loosing a million just before production, almost landing Nicole Kidman for the female lead, and a flu epidemic hitting the set. Shooting To Kill does not paint a seductive portrait of either the process or Christine Vachon.

That's possibly why it's as good as it is. Vachon wants to be both a nice person and a successful film producer of intelligent and provocative indie pictures. That's why her name is on Kids, I Shot Andy Warhol, Stonewall, Go Fish and Swoon. She is most proud of her work with Haynes on Safe, she says, and itemises some of the tough sell to market his astonishing second feature. The book also includes notes from her time on Todd Solondz's forthcoming and highly controversial Happiness (which was still without a title at the time of writing).

Shooting To Kill perhaps works best as a companion volume to John Pierson's Spike, Mike, Slackers and Dykes from a couple of years ago. But where he is a backend man (he comes in when films are partially finished or looking for distribution), Vachon is at the sharp end, still accepting unsolicited scripts in hopes of landing fresh talent. Even with a track record as impressive as this, she argues, every picture remains a struggle, and always comes down to money. Everything in this book is, in one way or another, is about dollars. What's essential, what isn't, what can be scrimped and what must be indulged.

As a result, for anyone not actually in the market for practical advice, the early chapters make for dry reading. Page after page is dedicated to the budget sheets of a fictional movie by way of example. But if the more casual reader soldiers through, they are rewarded with a wealth of fascinating material. How Velvet Goldmine was almost ruined at the very last stage of post-production. Why an artistic compromise was forced on the very uncompromising Safe by it's distributors. Or how calculated the apparently on-the-hoof Kids was. Not as well written as some film books maybe (occasionally stylistically ragged and repetitive), but surely one of the most informative - and cautionary.