| Vintage Pulp | Sep 22 2021 |
The Zu animals break loose and Tokyo is never the same.
Above is a promo poster for Toei Company's pinky violence hit Zubekô banchô: yume wa yoru hiraku, aka Tokyo Bad Girls, aka Delinquent Girl Boss: Blossoming Night Dreams, which premiered in Japan today in 1970. We already talked about the movie years back and showed you the tateken sized promo poster. Because we had this second piece of art, today we decided to be completist. Reiko Oshida and Keiko Fuji are still the main graphic elements, but some of the other bits have been rearranged. You can see the first piece, and also read about the movie, at this link.
JapanToei CompanyZubekô banchô: yume wa yoru hirakuTokyo Bad GirlsDelinquent Girl Boss: Blossoming Night DreamsReiko OshidaKeiko FujiMasumi TachibanaYukie Kagawapinky violencepinkuposter artcinema
| Mondo Bizarro | Sep 22 2021 |
Two men find out that nothing in life is truly free except trouble.
An interesting story came out of Byram, Mississippi yesterday that caught our eye because it's pure pulp. We actually read a book a while back that has the same plot set-up. We can't remember the title but we wouldn't kid you. Anyway, the story is two men happened upon an Acura sedan on the side of a country road with a sign on it reading “free car.” The keys were in the ignition, so they took it for a ride, presumably with plans to keep it. In the book the guy actually was asked to drive the car, instead of finding it, but it had same basic opening.
At some point, we like to imagine, one of our Mississippi duo sniffed a couple of times, turned to the other and said, “Bro, was that you?” After a fierce fart denial, a counter accusation, and an agreement that the ten pine tree air fresheners scattered around the car's interior couldn't be making the aroma, they stopped, opened the trunk, and found a corpse. At least, that's how we picture them finding it. More likely, after the intial jubilation had passed, they simply realized a free car—even a used Acura sedan—was too good to be true. The baggage in back was identified as Anthony McCrillis, last seen a few days earlier. According to the Byram sheriff there were no signs of obvious trauma—on the corpse he meant, the two guys are probably still freaked. An investigation is ongoing.
The humor here—and yes, it's a little funny—comes in thinking about the note writer. Did this scheme spring forth from his brow unbidden, or had he worked his way up to it? Like did he start years back by leaving a bag of free clothes somewhere, but they were all infested with ticks? Then
maybe he left an umbrella somewhere but when someone opened it a dead parakeet fell out? And later, jazzed over his bird caper, maybe he left a free recliner on the road that had a cat under the cushion. The guy fascinates us, whoever he is. His cold, calculating callousness is a sheer marvel.
maybe he left an umbrella somewhere but when someone opened it a dead parakeet fell out? And later, jazzed over his bird caper, maybe he left a free recliner on the road that had a cat under the cushion. The guy fascinates us, whoever he is. His cold, calculating callousness is a sheer marvel.And yes, we're assuming there was a murderer, and McCrillis didn't plan to give the car away, wrote a note, made one last trunk check, oopsed his way inside and pulled the lid shut after him. There's a killer for sure. One with a wicked sense of humor. But the joke's on him because he'll get caught. He has to. You can't mess around with a car, a corpse, and a note, and leave no evidence unless you're Fantômas or Jame Gumb. After his conviction he'll be told he's getting a free prison cell, but find he's actually housed with some six-five lifer with face tattoos and a mental catalogue of callous ideas that have made three prison psychiatrists leave the profession. You know what that would be called, right? Karma.
| Vintage Pulp | Sep 21 2021 |
Zumba, huh? Never heard of it. But anything that involves dancing around in this heat I'll take a pass on.
A glance at this Barye Phillips cover for Dan Cushman's 1951 novel Jewel of the Java Sea and you immediately expect it to be filled with lyrical old place names, with their romantic connotations for Westerners of a certain age—Siam, Burma, Celebes, Dutch East Indies, and broadly “the Orient,” names that have dissipated into history, though colonial memory continues to associate them with riches, adventure, and freedom. The name Java is still in use, and that's where Frisco Dougherty, a musician by training, but a fortune hunter and brawler in practice, has been knocking around for fifteen years attempting to make his fortune.
Dougherty has had little luck at this, which is why when he comes into possession of a yellow diamond said to be part of a priceless larger set, he goes into treasure hunter mode with sharp tongue, clenched fists, and hot lead. This jewel he's stumbled upon is supposedly one of five known collectively as the Taj Nipa, with those in turn married to a larger diamond called the Taj-i-nur. The whole kit and caboodle is presumed to reside in the vault of the Maharajah Sir Jagadipendra Bahadur, G.S., C.I., C.C.E.I., LMNOP. But that presumption could be wrong. Maybe the stones were liberated from their vault, though nobody has reported a theft.
Such capers are the core of these types of books, but there are also women. Anna, a Dutchwoman cast adrift in the islands, tells Dougherty she's searching for her missing father, an army major. She's important, but Dougherty is particularly intrigued by Locheng, an exotic dancer in the town of Pontianak, Borneo, and to his eye, a mix of all things good about Asia. He tells the reader she's, “Indo-Chinese, Malay, child of the melting pot, and [with] white blood, enough white blood make her vivid, give her fire.” Uh huh, Frisco loves him some Locheng, though he has a mighty brusque way of showing it:
He decided not to knock. He swung the door open. She sprang up to face him. She was naked. He took a deep breath and looked at her. She seized her sarong and swung it around her hips, tucked it tightly around her waist. Her breasts remained bare, after the fashion of native women.
“Why did you do that?” he asked. “Is it the Western influence that makes you think a body should be hidden? Let me see you as you were. You are so beautiful.”
The Western influence. We didn't notice him wandering around naked to demonstrate his liberation. But maybe that's his point—he's too corrupted to be free, but luckily—his luck, not hers—she isn't. At this point he's met Locheng exactly once before, and she called him a hodah orang—ugly man, according to the book, though not according to Google translate—and showed him the door. But he clearly thinks being cursed out was just a flirtatious prelude to his inevitable conquest of Locheng, and indeed, as these South Seas novels are usually male literary fantasies, that conquest will come soon enough.
Dougherty is interesting. He's impulsive and self-entitled; bigoted, though this appears to be more class than skin based; and sexist, to which we add no qualifiers considering he always wants women to parade around naked. But he's also sentimental and defends the underdog. We think he's an accurate depiction of a certain type of wayfaring American male endemic to the wilder reaches of the world. As former inhabitants of a couple of those reaches ourselves, we've met the type. Cue the Pulp Intl. girlfriends: “Met? You are the type.” Well, not really, though. We've always sought adventures, but our resemblance to Dougherty stops where he demands unearned respect, crosses lines of consent, and calls grown men, “boy.”
In the end, Jewel of the Java Sea is a South Asian thriller that sits neither at the top nor bottom of the genre. Frisco Dougherty might be worth having a beer with, but only until he says something offensive and refuses to apologize. What we'd prefer to hear from him are reflections about something other than how Western influence has ruined his chances to enjoy boobs al fresco. That may yet happen. Reading the book, we got the feeling he was supposed to become a franchise. A series never took root, but he did pop up in one sequel, 1960's The Half-Caste, also set in Asia. We already purchased it a little earlier today, because Cushman can write. What will be interesting is to see if Dougherty can grow.
| Vintage Pulp | Sep 20 2021 |
Moore than just another flash in the pan.
We've done a lot on b-movie femme fatale Cleo Moore. Above you see her getting a-level treatment on a stunning promo poster made in Italy for her 1956 hard luck drama Over-Exposed, which for its Italian run was called L'arma del ricatto, or “the weapon of blackmail.” This is a masterpiece. It was painted by Manfredo Acerbo, who also painted an iconic poster for Gilda we showed you a long while back. We've been neglectful in not digging up more from this guy. But we'll remedy that. There's no Italian release date for Over-Exposed, but it probably played there in mid-1957. You can read more about it here.
| Femmes Fatales | Sep 20 2021 |
Downtime always means pooltime in Hollywood.
We like this shot of Coleen Gray, née Doris Bernice Jensen, with its casual day-off feel. Gray appeared in some very good movies, including Kiss of Death, The Killing, Kansas City Confidential, State Fair, and The Leech Woman (well, maybe that one's not so good, but it's really fun). All told, she amassed more than one hundred credits in cinema and on television. We obviously haven't seen them all, but our favorite role of hers is as Molly in Nightmare Alley. Interest in that one will pick up soon because it's being remade by Guillermo del Toro, with Willem Dafoe, Cate Blanchett, and Bradley Cooper in the leads. We can understand why a maestro of the weird like del Toro was attracted to that film, and we expect the remake to be very interesting. But do yourself a favor and watch the original sometime too.
Nightmare AlleyKansas City ConfidentialThe KillingThe KillingKansas City ConfidentialState FairThe Leech WomanColeen Gray
| Vintage Pulp | Sep 19 2021 |
Casablanca drifts 2,500 miles east and loses a little something along the way.
Above you see a nice French poster for the Humphrey Bogart adventure Sirocco, which we touched upon briefly several months back. As we noted then, Columbia Pictures promoted the film as being, “beyond Casablanca...” but Sirocco comes up short in that department. How could it not? It's like saying, “beyond chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream,” or “beyond a raspberry gin Ricky,” or “beyond the 2003 Hurricanes-Buckeyes NCAA Championship Game.” These things are not possible. But Sirocco is actually pretty good anyway, owing largely to its setting in 1925 Damascus, Syria (the film was actually shot in Yuma, Arizona, but the illusion worked adequately).
Plotwise, local independence fighters are trying to drive out French occupiers via any means deemed necessary, including what we call today terrorist bombings. Bogart plays Rick from Casablanca, except he's named Harry Smith. But he's the same cynical, opportunistic, womanizing lone wolf he was before, who instead of running a bar, runs guns. He has no ideology in his profession, except love of money, and will work for whoever can hire him, Syrian or French. As the situation in Damascus grows increasingly fraught he finds himself unwillingly stuck between the locals and the occupiers. He also finds himself in a love triangle with slinky Märta Torén and a French military officer played by Lee J. Cobb.
The movie quickly coalesces around what we like to think of as the big three Bogart plot devices: romantic feelings threaten to upset his hard-won cynicism, he must make a choice between desire and conscience, and he must beat the clock if he hopes to get out of Dodge with his skin intact. Beyond Casablanca? Columbia pretty much strip mined Casablanca, is what happened. Even so, Bogart had few serious misses in his career, and Sirocco isn't one of them. Fans will get to see him doing exactly what made him an icon, and for that reason alone we think it's worth a watch. After premiering in the U.S. in mid-1951, it opened in France today the same year.
FranceSyriaDamascusArizonaYumaColumbia PicturesSiroccoHumphrey BogartMärta TorénLee J. CobbZero Mostelposter artcinemamovie review
| Vintage Pulp | Sep 19 2021 |
Into battle, me mateys! And tonight for those who survive—extra portions of organic Chai tea!
Today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day, not an official holiday, sadly. We asked the Pulp Intl. girlfriends what they'd do if they were pirates and the answers weren't pretty. Making all the men walk the plank was the most charitable of their thoughts, with swords and whips coming into play pretty quickly after that. Good thing we're only supposed to talk like pirates. Arrr... let's tone down the homicidal thoughts, girls.
Above and below is a collection of vintage paperbacks with women pirates. Well, maybe the woman on the cover of Rafael Sabatini's The Fortunes of Captain Blood isn't a pirate so much as someone defending herself. But anyone who can handle two pistols at once is an honorary pirate, at the least. We found eleven examples, and the cover art on display is by Harry Schaare, Rudolph Belarski, Barye Phillips, Paul Anna Soik, and others.
Frank ShayGardner F. FoxPhilip RushRobert E. HowardJeramie PriceDouglas BrownRaafael SabatiniInglis FletcherFrank G. SlaughterC.V. TerryAdam ShawHarry SchaareRudolph BelarskiBarye PhillipsPaul Anna Soikcover artcover collectionliterature
| Hollywoodland | Sep 18 2021 |
Royal Crown helps consumers to stay awake at the movies.
Lauren Bacall brings her special brand of smoky sex appeal to this magazine advertisement for Royal Crown Cola, made as a tie-in with her 1946 film noir The Big Sleep. RC was launched in 1905 by Union Bottling Works—a grandiose corporate name for some guys in the back of a Georgia grocery store. The story is that the drink came into being after grocer Claud A. Hatcher got into a feud with his Coca Cola supplier over the cost of Coke syrup, and essentially launched RC out of equal parts entrepreneurialism and spite. Union Bottling Works quickly had a line of drinks, including ginger ale, strawberry soda, and root beer.
However humbly RC Cola began, the upstart had truly arrived by 1946, because The Big Sleep, co-starring Humphrey Bogart, was an important movie, and Bacall was a huge star. She was only one jewel in the crown of RC's endorsement efforts. Also appearing in ads were Rita Hayworth, Veronica Lake, Joan Crawford, Virginia Mayo, Paulette Goddard, Gene Tierney, Ann Rutherford, Ginger Rogers, and others. Bacall flogged RC for at least a few years, including starring in tie-in ads for Dark Passage, another screen pairing of her and Bogart that hit cinemas in 1947. You see one of those at bottom. We can only assume these ads were wildly successful. After all, it was Bacall.
The Big SleepDark PassageLauren BacallHumphrey BogartVeronica LakeAnn RutherfordVirginia MayoJoan CrawfordPaulette GoddardGene TierneyRita HayworthGinger Rogersmagazine art
| Vintage Pulp | Sep 17 2021 |
Why so bashful, beefcake? Turn around, drop those buckskins, and let me see what I'm working with.
The frontier adventure The Stranger by Lillian Bos Ross has a fun and games sort of cover, but it somewhat belies the content of the book, which is about a lonely Kansas woman who advertises herself as a willing wife, agrees to an arranged marriage, travels to California's Bug Sur coast to wed, and finds that her new husband is an awful brute. It's an adventure but also a romance, and being written in 1942 and set even earlier, her main goal is to—you see this coming, right?—win over the husband who beats on her (and cheats on her, for that matter). Does she succeed? Do bears shit in the woods? This Bantam paperback edition was published in 1949, and the cover art is credited to Bernard Barton, who was actually Harry Barton, but using his middle name instead.
| Vintage Pulp | Sep 16 2021 |
Documentary explores the allure of erotic dance through time.
Here's some random Italian pleasantness today, two posters for the documentary Sexy, which focused on erotic dancers from ancient Egypt through the French Revolution and into the age of modern burlesque. This was soundtracked with music from Ricki (Ricky) Gianco, and some of the dancers include Rita Himalaya, Lin Chen, and the Sexy Twisters, whose act we'd give plenty to see. No such luck, though, because as far as we know the movie isn't available in any format. Too bad. We don't know if it's meant to inform so much as titillate, but we'd love to see what it has about Egypt. Well, we can hope. Obscure movies become accessible all the time. Sexy doesn't have a premiere date, but it came out sometime in 1962.
ItalyRita HimalayaLin ChenCora VanguardNorma GladisVeronique Gianna PolettiDukeRegine LaumerCaroline Li RouvekBabi DiamondBabette AntonyaLady Chinchilla LauraTere OliverBalletto RussoRicki GiancoRicky Giancoburlesque
 |
 |
