Seven ways to die in Rome.
We mentioned a while back we were taking a closer look at vintage giallo flicks, and today you see a Renato Casaro poster for Sette orchidee macchiate di rosso, aka Seven Blood-Stained Orchids. During a train trip a serial killer who's been dispatching women in various diabolical ways tries to make a victim of Uschi Glas. Uschi's man Antonio Sabato is the police's number one suspect, and the only way he can disprove their suspicions is by finding the killer. Uschi plays sidekick for him, which is good, because he looks terribly confused most of the time. This falsely-accused-must-find-real-killer gimmick had already reached perennial status when Antonio arrived on the scene, so you'd hope for a fresh take on it—and be disappointed. This isn't a bad movie, but it's undistinguished, a giallo without the high style of the best entries in the genre. Umberto Lenzi, who had directed numerous films but was making his first giallo here, would do a bit better later. Sette orchidee macchiate di rosso premiered in Italy today in 1972.
It's a self portrait. I don't know why I painted myself bloody and mutilated. Just a weird inspiration.
These are my new strangling gloves. 100% lambskin. Nice, right?
My last victim didn't like gloves so this time I'm going bareback!
Not cutting him down.
Wait, what? That's not fair. I didn't even see him until just now.
This mystery is probably far less complicated than we think.
Not bad, kid. You got talent. Now can you make them rotate in opposite directions?
Above, a typical piece of Greenleaf Classics sleaze, Flesh Act, written in 1963 by whoever inhabited the Don Wellman pseudonym this time out for the sub-imprint Ember Books. It's a tale about women, talent agents, movie producers, and the casting couch, 1963, with Ed Smith cover art. Smith has been a fertile source of visual material, as you can see here and here.
I wanted you from the first moment I caught a whiff of your backside.
Clyde Merrick's 1961 novel Sex Pack goes in the high school sleaze bin, with fictional Keldon High School's coolest kids putting together an extracurricular club of alpha dogs devoted mainly to getting in girls' panties. The protagonist Troy Cooper is a football star and all around upstanding type who isn't interested, but when his innocent girlfriend Betsy joins not knowing what's in store, he joins too to try to get her out. Or at least that's the plan. This was billed by Beacon as “a book that should be read by every parent,” which was a typical approach, promotionally speaking. But we doubt many people bought it for any reason other than to get their loins heated up. Beacon was usually pretty good about crediting its covers, but not always. Artist unknown in this case.
The laws of physics are constant. The reflexes of humans—not so much.
Above and below is another set of accident scene photos from the Los Angeles area circa ’40s and ’50s. As we explained before, these photos exist because newspapers back then printed the occasional calamity if space needed to be filled. Which meant roving photographers showed up at accident scenes and caught people during the worst moments of their lives. Today's collection is a bit different because we've included plane and train mishaps. There were apparently a large number of both, based on the material we reviewed. Let these remind you in general to never be in too much of a hurry, but also to be extra careful at train crossings, and maybe cast an occasional glance skyward, just to cover all the bases. Of course, while you're looking skyward you'll probably get rear ended, because that's irony. Fifteen shots below, and the previous group here. And in case you're wondering, we cannot offer reassurances that everyone seen here survived, because several didn't.
Hi girls! I brought my paddle. And a couple of fresh balls. I still don't see where we'll play, though.
It's uncredited but memorable, this cover for Night Lust by Ken Gardner, from Erotik Books, a subsidiary of Foremost Publishing, which was a branch of Connoisseur Publications. It's almost like nobody really wanted credit for this book. Basically a kid named Peter is shaped by his two lesbian neighbors into a pervert. First they play dress-up with him and pretty soon they're leading him down the path of total perversion, which results in him becoming a roving peeper. The cover depicts them about to play the “spanking game,” which like ping pong incorporates the backhand smash. Put this book in the evil lesbians bin. Not that there's a good lesbians bin. This is mid-century sleaze. Lesbianism is like demonic possession—you're either eventually exorcised or lost forever. Gardner, presumably a pseudonym, continued in this vein with Terrified, Sex Hostage, and other highbrow literary efforts. Night Lust is from 1966.
I took an oath to first do no harm, but you know what? Oath schmoath.
Sylva Koscina prepares to dispense some bitter pills in this still from the 1970 adventure L'Assaut des jeunes loups, aka Hornet's Nest, a World War II flick set in Italy, starring her and Rock Hudson. She plays a German physician, but sometimes you have to stop healing and start unhealing, at least when Hollywood is calling the shots. The movie came during the second stanza of Koscina's career, which was characterized by a lot of minimally successful mid-budget fare. But there's nothing minimal or mid about Koscina. She's one of the most fondly remembered European actresses of her era.
It's the code that makes the site and we're swapping ours out.
If you've visited some of the older posts in Pulp Intl. recently you may have noticed that our headers on those old pieces, as well as on the history text in the sidebar, have partially or completely vanished. This only happens to Chrome users, and the reason is that Chrome has made some technical change that's knocking out the art files we use to create those headers. Pulp Intl. is pretty old now in digital terms, and the code we used to build the site is basically obsolete. That's why over the years bugs have cropped up, such as the Reader Pulp feature failing to work, and the e-mail page becoming non-functional. Each time a minor bug appears we fix it, but we always set aside repairing the major stuff until a more convenient time—which never arrives. Now though, losing the post headers means we have no choice but to do a total backend revamp. It will take some weeks, and we ask for your patience as we get it completed. In the meantime all the new posts (we're taking tomorrow off but we'll be back with new stuff Thursday) should behave normally.
When there's serious killing to be done.
We're reading a James Bond novel at the moment and it reminded us that a long while back we downloaded these shots of an amazing 1966 Aurora Plastics Co. model of Goldfinger bad man Odd Job. While the product is nice, as you see below, the box art is of astounding quality, the equal of what you'd see on most paperback covers. There's a reason for that—it was painted by Mort Kunstler. You can see his signature on the lower right. According to the back of the box Odd Job is suitable for ages eight to adult, so if you want to buy one of these—and we do—there's no shame. Aurora says it's fine! Not like they were trying to increase sales or anything. They also increase sales by failing to mention prominently that the model is plain white plastic. You have to paint it if you want the results you see below. But that at least offers the opportunity to customize. Blue hair? Sure. Whimsical curlicue mustache? His first name is Odd, after all. Unfortunately, the one we saw ran $150, which is quite a bit, but having it on our website is almost like owning it.
No, there's two in every town. Unless you showed up here for some other reason, manslut.
Above, a Signet paperback edition of James Aswell’s There’s One in Every Town, originally published in 1951, with this edition appearing in 1956. Aswell conducts readers into Erskine Caldwell country with a tale of sex and consequences. This genre was absolutely bursting back in the 1950s. We never stop running across entries that were previously unknown to us. This particular story is about young—very young—Jackie Vose, who by mere association ruins any male who comes near her. She's seen as salvageable by at least one man—or rather boy, since he's the seventeen-year-old heart-smitten narrator. But he never has much of a chance. It's the town doctor who actually gets in too deep, and it doesn't end well. South, sin, and sadness.
Annie Belle streaks across Hong Kong and stardom follows.
Above you seen an Aller, aka Carlo Alessandrini, poster for La fine dell'innocenza, which premiered in Italy today in 1976 and was titled in English Annie, after the lead character Annie Belle. The star of the film had acted under her real name Annie Brilland up to this point, but adopted Annie Belle as her stage name for this film and the rest of her career. Yes, technically she acted as Annie Belle in an earlier movie—Laure, which came out about a week before Annie, but we strongly suspect that made-in-Manila sex romp was shot later and simply went through post production more quickly. Another small movie from 1975 is credited to Belle, but we're sure that was done much later. Annie is the film that made her Belle.
It's a coming of age story in which Belle proves to be too independent for all those—male and female—who wish to possess her. She begins the film under the wing of her incest-minded father, travels with him to Hong Kong, where he's arrested for money laundering, forcing her to fend for herself. From there she makes the inevitable sexual splash in upper crust expat circles around the island. And who can fault them for their interest? In real life Belle is a tiny, tomboyish figure, certainly no more than 5' 2”, but onscreen she comes across as even lusher than the Hong Kong hills. There's no disputing it: the camera loves her. She's one of the most striking stars of any era of cinema.
La fine dell'innocenza is remembered for its extended sequence depicting Belle's escape from a brothel. She pulls it off—no body double—by sprinting starkers through the Hong Kong streets, leaping onto the back of a motorcycle driven by an associate, careening through traffic as she wantonly flouts local helmet laws, leaping off the bike and running again, now chased by cops, to a public fountain, where she's finally apprehended. The scene is worth rewinding just to see all the locals gawking from the backgrounds of the shots. They must have thought, watching this platinum blonde boy-woman with the jet back muff running through their city—what the hell do these foreigners smoke?
The headlines that mattered yesteryear.
1920—The Nazi Party Is Founded
The small German Workers' Party, or DAP, which was under the direction of Adolf Hitler, changes its name to the National Socialist German Workers' Party. Though Hitler adopted the socialist label to attract working class Germans, his party in fact embraced mainly anti-socialist ideas. The group became known in English as the Nazi Party, and within the next fifteen years expanded to become the most powerful force in German politics.
1942—Battle of Los Angeles Takes Place
A object flying over wartime Los Angeles triggers a massive anti-aircraft barrage
, ultimately killing 3 civilians. Initially the target of the aerial barrage is thought to be an attacking force from Japan, but it is later suggested to be imaginary and a case of "war nerves", a lost weather balloon, a blimp, a Japanese fire balloon, or even an extraterrestrial craft. The true nature of the object or objects remains unknown to this day, but the event is known as the Battle of Los Angeles.
1945—Flag Raised on Iwo Jima
Four days after landing on the Japanese-held island of Iwo Jima, American soldiers of the 28th Regiment, 5th Marine Division take Mount Suribachi and raise an American flag. A photograph of the moment shot by Joe Rosenthal becomes one of the most famous images of WWII, and wins him the Pulitzer Prize later that year.
1987—Andy Warhol Dies
American pop artist Andy Warhol, whose creations have sold for as much as 100 million dollars, dies of cardiac arrhythmia following gallbladder surgery in New York City. Warhol, who already suffered lingering physical problems from a 1968 shooting, requested in his will for all but a tiny fraction of his considerable estate to go toward the creation of a foundation dedicated to the advancement of the visual arts.
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