|Vintage Pulp||Nov 22 2017|
|Vintage Pulp||Oct 24 2017|
This poster was made to promote the Japanese pinku flick Kôkôsei banchô: Shin'ya hôsô, aka High School Boss 3: Midnight Broadcasting, starring Eiko Yanami and Keiko Matsuzaka. Third in a tetrology, the film is exactly as the title suggests—a tale of delinquency, prostitution, and revenge, with the extra twist of being centered around a radio station. Basically, one of the deejays on the program “All Night Music” reads a letter over the air from a young prostitute, who is later found to have committed suicide while three months pregnant. A search for the people responsible for the tragedy reveals that a prostitution racket is being run out of the local high school. Revenge follows. The tagline for this film is top notch: “When the town goes to bed, we get up!” Kôkôsei banchô: Shin'ya hôsô premiered in Japan today in 1970.
|Femmes Fatales||Sep 22 2017|
|Vintage Pulp||Aug 30 2017|
|Vintage Pulp||May 2 2017|
We've already shared two posters for the 1970 pinku flick Denki kurage: kawaii akuma, aka Play It Cool, aka Electric Medusa: Lovely Wicked Woman. Today we have yet another promo for the film, with Mari Atsumi looking cool, lovely, wicked, and a few other things, all of them good. In the film she plays a model who loses her job after she refuses to “entertain” a department store owner, and later finds herself hassled by a villainous Yakuza who wants to turn her into a call girl. If you've seen any pinku films at all, you know how this goes—humiliation, tables turned, revenge.
Atsumi was a big star in her day. She appeared in twenty-eight films, guested on a number of television shows, and released a couple of popular albums. Like many pinku actresses, though, her current whereabouts are basically a mystery. One Japanese webpage literally says nobody knows where she is. But that's okay—she gave us plenty to remember her by. You can see the other Denki kurage posters we've shared here and here, and there's even another promo for the film you can see over at the website Bulles de Japon at this link. And below we have more bonus material—some promo photos from the film.
|Vintage Pulp||Dec 25 2015|
Only a little time today, but we love sharing this Japanese material, so above you see an alternate poster in panel length for Yoshio Inoue’s pinku film Kawaii Akuma: Iimono ageru, aka Just for You, which premiered today in 1970 starring Mari Atsumi. It’s completely different from the standard sized version, which we showed you here, and better too, we think. Now we are off—our holiday involves lobster, crab, and other oceanic yummies eaten picnic style in a hilltop park. Hope your day is excellent.
|Vintage Pulp||May 26 2015|
Last night we asked the Pulp Intl. girlfriends if they wanted to watch a movie and they said no because the movies we pick are always bad. That obvious slur against our taste aside, we explained yet again that we choose poster art, not movies. Which is to say, we merely react to interesting vintage movie promos by following where we’re asked to go—to the sofa for a screening. The above poster for Hiroku Nagasaki onna-ro, aka Nagasaki Women’s Prison is about as successful as Japanese promo art gets. With its graphics, colors, and weird-ass content it demands that you watch the movie. The fact that it’s a quasi-sequel to 1970’s successful Onna-ro hizu, aka Island of Horrors gave us hope it would be good.
These crucifixions, we should mention, are not like what you see on the poster. That image is designed to trick you into watching something a bit more screamy, stabby, and bloody than you’d expect, so proceed with caution. In the end, we didn’t like the movie very much, and we got to thinking maybe our girlfriends are right. Maybe we do watch a lot of bad movies. Maybe they’re smart to avoid them. But no worries—we don’t need no icky old girls watching movies with us anyway. Hiroku Nagasaki onna-ro premiered in Japan today in 1971.
|Vintage Pulp||Jan 15 2015|
The three posters above promote the Japanese psychological horror movie Irezumi, aka Tattoo, directed by Yasuzô Masumura and starring Ayako Wakao as woman kidnapped into geishadom who is forcibly tattooed upon her back by a disturbed tattoo master. His creation is the monstrous, woman-faced spider you see on the posters. This act sets Wakao on a path toward vengeance, violence, and evil. Some reviews of Irezumi note that the tattoo is in some sense alive, like the portrait of Dorian Gray, however the actual art doesn’t change its aspect—we checked, using a handy invention called rewind, and the lady-spider is the same in the beginning and end of the movie. The tattoo does, though, unleash something, and Wakao changes, quite drastically, her journey from relative innocence into femme fatale depravity giving Irezumi its power and dread. While not splashy and filled with shocks in the style of modern horror, the movie is, all in all, a highly recommendable mind trip. There's another Irezumi from 1982 with a different plot, but this one, the first one, premiered in Japan today in 1966.
|Vintage Pulp||Oct 31 2014|
Above is a poster for Teinosuke Kinugasa’s masterwork samurai drama Jigokumon, which was known in English as Gate of Hell. It was the first Japanese film shot in color, via the process Eastmancolor, which was a leap beyond three-strip Technicolor, and one that makes Jigokumon blaze like a supernova. The story, from a play by Kan Kikuchi, concerns a Heian-era samurai named Moritoh whose bravery during a battle is rewarded by his lord granting him anything he desires. What he desires is the Lady Kesa. Problem is she’s married to another samurai. The lord mistakenly grants Moritoh’s wish, which is soon revealed to be impossible, but Moritoh resolves to have Kesa anyway, by any means necessary—trickery, bribery, even all-out murder. What develops is not just a thriller about entitlement and lust, but a meditation on honor, love and, especially, social strictures.
Jigokumon was a sensation. A hit in Japan, it was a revelation to foreign audiences. It took home the Palme d’Or from the 1954 Cannes Film Festival, a 1955 special Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film, an Oscar for Best Costume Design in a color film, and more prestigious nods. Along with Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon, Kimisaburo Yoshimura’s Genji Monogatari, Kenji Mizoguchi’s Ugetsu Monogatari, and other films from the early 1950s, it marked the emergence of Japanese cinema onto the international scene. We’ve posted a large group of screen grabs below—perhaps overkill, considering how many—but the film just looks so damn good and the shots are so spectacular that we couldn’t help ourselves. Jigokumon premiered in Japan today in 1953.
|Vintage Pulp||Jun 23 2014|
Above and below are two posters for Iwataro Ishii’s Mona Riza okyo, which was based on the graphic novel of the same name by Teruo Tanashita, and stars Mari Atsumi as a pickpocket trying to get her hands on a valuable but elusive diamond pin called the Star of the Sea. Strangely, the word “Kyoto” clearly appears in the poster titles—it’s the last symbol on both—but all the sources we checked said the film is called Mona Riza okyo. It’s a mystery too deep for us to solve, but if any of you can shed some light on it please drop us a line. Mona Riza okyo premiered in Japan today in 1971.
Update: David W. writes in and tells us: “Indeed the last word on each poster is Okyo, not Kyoto.“
Mystery solved. Thanks, David, for your help.
Update 2: NelC offers a more detailed explanation of the title. Here's what he wrote: The transliteration of the subject line is indeed Mona Lisa O-Kyō. The proper name for Kyōto is 京都市, "Kyōto-shi" or "Kyoto City" in English. 京都 is "Kyōto." 京 is "Kyō." 京 by itself means "capital" as in "capital city," and お is an honorific, so お京 might be read as "the capital." (モナリサ is, of course, "Mona Lisa.")
So the title might be read as "The Capital Mona Lisa." The significance of this is beyond my meagre abilities in Japanese, though. A colloquialism for "the great," maybe, as in Wodehouse-era British English? I don't know.
Thank you NelC. Your excellent explanation is more than we could have reasonably hoped for. Mystery solved, again.