| Vintage Pulp | Apr 8 2024 |
Fear and loathing are the least of his problems.
Jerry Allison art strikes a menacing note on the cover of William R. Cox's 1960 novel Murder in Vegas, in which Cox's gambler hero Tom Kincaid from 1958's Hell To Pay, which we recently discussed, returns to the written page to find more trouble. The first murder in the book actually occurs in Los Angeles, but someone is later knocked off in Vegas and as a direct result Kincaid is elevated from silent partner to full owner of a casino called the White Elephant. Simultaneously his girlfriend Jean Harper is in town filming a movie, and the murder and film production seem tied together. Kincaid is as interesting as before, but the fun creation here is down-on-her-luck party girl Carry Cain, who mixes sexiness and vulnerability with a beatnik mentality. She's an aspiring actress and gambling addict who thinks Kincaid might finally bring her the luck she's been seeking. Instead she finds herself in the middle of a Vegas-sized mess. Cox has talent, as we've noted before. It shines bright in Murder in Vegas.
| Femmes Fatales | Apr 8 2024 |
She's good with it, but she's even better with a 9 wood.
What is it about sports that all of them have so much terminology fit for sexual puns? Someone should do a study on that. Meanwhile, here you see British actress Eunice Gayson, who you remember as Sylvia Trench from the James Bond movies Dr. No (the source of this image) and From Russia with Love. In both films she serves as soft comic relief, as it were, when Sean Connery amusingly abandons her before they can consummate their lust. But that's probably why she survived both films—back then Bond's chance encounters usually were killed.
| Vintage Pulp | Apr 7 2024 |
The lone stranger rides again.
We usually watch movies in the order we're able to acquire them, so as a matter of availability we ended up watching parts one and three in the Rika the Mixed Blood Girl trilogy without having seen the middle entry. Last night we remedied that and screened part two, Konketsuji Rika: Hitoriyuku sasuraitabi, known in English as Rica 2: Lonely Wanderer. You see a rare tateken style poster for the film above—along with a nice zoom—that you won't find anywhere but on Pulp Intl. We already expounded upon the change in spelling of Rika's name in the English title a while back. Shorter version: we don't know why Rica makes more sense than Rika. Probably it doesn't. Take it up with the honchos at Kindai Eiga Kyokai.
Rika 2/Rica 2 stars Rika Aoki and she's once again required to right wrongs, as she escapes from the frying pan of reform school and lands in the fire of urban crime and other hazards endemic to pinku cinema. The main plot involves a ship that exploded and sank in Misawa harbor, and a survivor—Rika's friend Hanako—who's in a mental hospital as a result. But Hanako is mentally fine. She's actually hiding in the one place hired killers can't reach her. Turns out the ship was yakuza owned, and everyone who survived is being hunted down. Rika goes to the police and demands an investigation, but the cops are yakuza owned too. Why must everyone who survived the ship disaster be killed? How high does the conspiracy go?
Rika handles her business with moral outrage and violence, but she also has time for a musical number or two. She's the Dylan of the Misawa nightclub district. Check out her lyrical stylings:
As with the other films, some of the action in Rika 2/Rica 2 veers into slapstick. Also like the other films, there are racial and political digressions, and they aren't subtle. For instance, when Rika and a friend are accosted by Americans at one point, the group consists of one cowboy, one hippie, one guy dressed in a suit, etc. Later Rika is told point blank that it's lucky she's half white, because being half black like her friend Hanako would make her even more inferior to anyone fully Japanese. These are villains talking to her. The movie's default setting is anti-racist, which of course is correct and moral, but it's funny how what's considered racist evolves over time. Hanako is played by Japanese actress Masami Souda in shoe polish and an afro wig. Oops! For pinku cinema, it's just another day. But all-in-all, a reasonably fun one. Konketsuji Rika: Hitoriyuku sasuraitabi premiered in Japan today in 1973.
JapanKindai Eiga KyokaiKonketsuji Rika: Hitoriyuku sasuraitabiRica 2: Lonely WandererRika AokiMasami Soudapinkuposter artcinemamovie review
| Vintage Pulp | Apr 7 2024 |
People are being eaten by sharks but the hipsters of the Mexican Riviera are too groovy to care.
¡Tintorera!, for which you see a poster above, is often presumed to be within the pantheon of Jaws knockoffs, and that's true, but barely. There's a giant shark, and it eats a few people, but ¡Tintorera! couldn't be more different in tone than Spielberg's blockbuster. It's a counterculture movie set in and around Cancún, Tulum, and the Rivera Maya. A considerable amount of script is spent exploring free love and utopian lifestyles. Shark hunters Andrés Garcia and Hugo Stiglitz fashion an exclusive three-way relationship with Susan George. They also mix and match with Laura Lyons and Jennifer Ashley, and each bed down on consecutive nights with Fiona Lewis, which catalyzes a transformation from professional rivals to friends. Discussions of sexual sharing and finding new ways to live take up far more running time than anything to do with sharks.
But sharks there indeed are—specifically, a large tiger shark whose first victim is Lewis. She's eaten during a nude swim, which is another resemblance to Jaws. But to give a sense of how different ¡Tintorera! really is, consider that Lewis appears to be the movie's star during its first half hour, and when she vanishes no trace of her is ever found and nobody much cares that she's gone. They assume she left the country. In cinema's imaginary countercultureworld, who has time to ask questions? The focus of the film shifts to Garcia and Stiglitz's rivalry-cum-friendship. Shortly afterward, Susan George arrives, and the focus shifts again, onto the aformentioned threesome. But then she leaves, and suddenly Lyons and Ashley are the main love interests. Then one of them is eaten too. This round robin approach, in our experience, is unique in a film that isn't anthological or episodic, and it's jarring, to be sure.
Another aspect of ¡Tintorera! that might jar is it usage of real sharks and extremely practical special effects. Many actual sharks are killed. A loggerhead turtle is killed via throat cutting and hung over the side of a boat to make a blood trail. We don't think the Mexican filmmakers Conacite Uno and Productora Filmica Real added a disclaimer to the credits about no animals being harmed. Somehow they got a shark to swim around with a fake human torso sticking out of its mouth. Another shark is made to carry around a human lower body trailing yards of intestines. We don't know how the filmmakers achieved these striking scenes, but they look very real. So if all of what we've written doesn't make the film's slender free love plot sound enticing, maybe watch it for the gory efx. You'll marvel. ¡Tintorera! premiered in Mexico today in 1977.
MexicoCancúnTulum¡Tintorera!Tintorera: Killer SharkAndrés GarciaHugo StiglitzSusan GeorgeFiona LewisLaura LyonsPriscilla Barnesposter artcinemamovie review
| Vintage Pulp | Apr 6 2024 |
Before we go in, I should warn you that Isa might jump out from somewhere. Act surprised. She'll leave you alone after that.
Above: a cover for the 1953 adventure Isa, written by René Roques and published by his Paris-based company Éditions R.R. Their cover art was often by Jef de Wulf, but this one is signed YB. We have no idea who that is, nor have we ever seen his or her work elsewhere, but it's an interesting effort. R.R. produced attractive covers even in collaboration with obscure artists, so some of the credit for their consistency probably goes to the company's art director—René Roques himself. Click his keywords below to see more.
| Intl. Notebook | Apr 5 2024 |
She's a rare example of prey that's more dangerous than her predators.
Above is a fun pressbook cover for the legendary Pam Grier's classic action movie Foxy Brown, a tangled tale of drug dealers, crooked cops, loan sharks, and narcs, which premiered in the U.S. today in 1974. When pressed against the wall Grier gets just as vicious as her screen foes. She even sets one guy on fire and runs another over—with a plane. There are no holds barred in blaxploitation cinema.
Below we also have various lobby cards from the film. These are interesting because they're made from production photos that you don't typically see online. It's too bad Grier's blaxploitation/action phase was short, because she was good in the films, even when the films weren't good enough for her. But every artist seeks to hone their craft, so we imagine she got tired of such roles. That's okay—her output, though limited, is always fun to re-watch.
As a side note, the hazards of blogging during the unethical digital age are amply illustrated here. Users on both Alamy and Getty attempt to assert copyright on these items, but movie promos are made for non-copyright holders to publicize the works depicted, and despite claims to the contrary individuals can't hold copyright on them. There are probably hundreds or thousands of these reproductions out there, all individually possessed, so a specific person claiming copyright is nonsensical on the face of it. Only the issuing studio holds copyright.
Even so, we occasionally get threatening e-mails from digital photo resellers. They're AI generated and automatically sent, which means they'll only increase in number as time goes by. We have a form e-mail we send back demanding proof of copyright. We never get a reply to it. Shockingly. We'll say this though—one day corporate greed will kill the blogging culture the same way it's killed most everything else. But that day isn't today. Read what we thought about Foxy Brown here.
| Vintage Pulp | Apr 4 2024 |
Relax, honey. They must be from that boat with the skull flag. I bet they're spring breakers on a booze cruise.
The 1960 Fontana edition of Peter Cheyney's Dark Bahama, with its unlucky man being mauled by a shark, is one of the craziest mid-century paperback covers you'll see. By contrast, the earlier 1957 edition above from Pan Books goes a bit more traditional. It was painted by Henry Fox, easily recognizable thanks to his unique signature at lower left. The book is unique too. Feel free to read the earlier write-up to find out how.
| Femmes Fatales | Apr 4 2024 |
And fired last. Which is ideally how you want these things to go.
The above photo of U.S. actress Ellen Drew was made when she was filming her 1940 western Texas Rangers Ride Again, which is a surprise, because she's isn't dressed Old West style, with her leg-exposing skirt and open toed shoes. We guess even cowgirls get the blues—when it comes to wearing those hoop skirts and corsets. This is Drew's third femme fatale appearance. You can see the other two here and here.
| Vintage Pulp | Apr 3 2024 |
Gloria Grahame is a bad mamma scamma.
We had to watch Mama's Dirty Girls, not because it's a 1970's grindhouse movie (though that helped), but because none other than 1950s femme fatale Gloria Grahame got snared in this low budget affair. Sometimes the bills simply need to be paid. Or maybe she thought the script was dynamite. Either way, she gets top billing in this drive-in quality drama that premiered today in 1974, which tells the story of a scam artist mother and her three daughters who are honeytrap serial killers dispatching men for their money.
When Grahame gets another rich man on the hook, she foolishly poses as a well-to-do widow without realizing that her target is likewise seeking to kill someone for their money. This twist is ironic, and the mutual murder attempts that follow can be read as black comedy if you peer deeply between the lines, but in our opinion Mama's Dirty Girls doesn't have enough brainpower to be satire. Grahame probably wished it were, though—then she'd have had an excuse for starring in it. Sadly, it's just an amusingly bad movie. Everyone is terrible in it—even Grahame. And there isn't near enough eroticism to save it.
But you may want to watch it anyway. The cast is beautiful, particularly Currie, and there's an interesting value-added co-star too. Fifteen minutes into the movie's running time you'll see an actress that'll make you go, “Who is that?” You'll be reacting to the radiant beauty of bit player Annika Di Lorenzo, née Marjorie Lee Thoreson, who was a Penthouse centerfold in 1973 and later carved out a career in b-cinema. Besides Mama's Dirty Girls she appeared in such films as 1974's Act of Vengeance and The Centerfold Girls, 1980's Dressed To Kill, and 1979's big budget porn epic Caligula.
She later sued Penthouse publisher Bob Guccione, claiming that he forced her to have sex with business associates, and tricked her into the infamous Caligula orgy. She won a $4 million punitive judgement, but lost it in an appeal. Guccione took revenge by publishing a lesbian pictorial of Di Lorenzo. Afterward, she stepped away from the limelight, but in 2011 hit newspapers again when she washed up dead on Camp Pendleton Beach in San Diego under baffling circumstances. Police suggested suicide, but her family contended that it was foul play, possibly perpetrated by someone from the military base. In the end, her case was closed as unsolved, and today remains another Hollywood mystery.
San DiegoMama's Dirty GirlsAct of VengeanceDressed To KillCaligulaThe Centerfold GirlsPenthouse MagazineGloria GrahamePaul LambertCandice RialsonSondra CurrieMary StoddardAnnika di LorenzoMarjorie Lee Thoresonposter artcinemaposter artcinemamovie reviewxxx
| Vintage Pulp | Apr 1 2024 |
If you jump without looking you might get swept away.
The book you see above, a 1958 Popular Library edition of The Red Room by Belgian author Françoise Mallet-Joris, was picked up for us by a friend who thought he was buying a pulp novel. He was attracted by the cover, and it's indeed fine work, from the skilled brush (and possibly ink quill and charcoal pencil) of Mitchell Hooks. As for the novel, it was originally published in 1955 as La chambre rouge and was a sequel to 1951's Le rempart des Béguines.
When someone buys us a book we always read it out of appreciation and respect, even romance novels, and in reading The Red Room we were reminded once again of the skill gap between literary and crime fiction. There are obviously excellent, transcendent crime writers (and literary fiction that misses the mark), but Mallet-Joris—even translated—spins evocative phrases as deftly as a weaver with a loom. Like this one:
The presence of winter—vulgar winter, befurred and jangling her crystal adornments—was scarcely felt in the small white and gold drawing room.
The presence of winter—vulgar winter, befurred and jangling her crystal adornments—was scarcely felt in the small white and gold drawing room.
Isn't that nice? It's not Hammett describing a gangster popping off shots in a crowded bar, but it's still fun to read. The tale is a coming of age breast-beater set in Gers, France in which the main character, eighteen-year-old Hélène Noris decides to steal the dashing young film director her hated stepmother Tamara has earmarked for extra-marital games. That actually sounds kind of pulp, doesn't it? Well, just wait.
At some point it becomes clear that Hélène had been Tamara's young lover (probably this is the central plot of the previous book). Tamara and Hélène had been carrying on, but in order to secure for herself a stable existence Tamara decided to marry Hélène's father. Thus, The Red Room charts Hélène as she impulsively steals her stepmother's crush, only to find herself getting in too deep with someone who's more experienced and decisive than any man she's known.
Needless to say, that plot sounds like some of the sleaze novels we highlight here, which would make you wonder, in terms of public perception, at which point the lowbrow becomes highbrow. And the easy answer to that is: when you can write like Mallet-Joris and critics adore you. Overall, The Red Room is probably a little too genteel and interiorized for most pulp readers, but we liked it. Consider that less a recommendation than an acknowledgment of talent.
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