Promo photo of Austrian actress Maria Perschy from the West German action flick Die Pagode zum fünften Schrecken, aka Five Golden Dragons, 1960. 

Nobody really knows where the word burlesque came from—some claim its roots are the Italian and Spanish words “burla”, which mean “hoax” and “deception” respectively. We’ve also seen burla translated as “jest.” Whatever its etymological roots, the art of burlesque began in Victorian England as a type of musical variety show that satirized highbrow art forms such as opera, ballet, and costumed drama. On American soil, burlesque took similar shape, but also began to incorporate semi-clad dancers. Soon, these sexually suggestive dances became the focus of the performances, and the word burlesque became a synonym for striptease. Stars such as Sally Rand, Amy Fong and Dixie Evans became celebrity practitioners of the art. The dancers generally didn’t strip totally nude on stage, but a few, like Bettie Page, did take it all off in short burlesque films. Above is a shot of Betty Blue Eyes Howard, and below we have more assorted burlesque photos featuring some of the biggest stars of yesteryear’s striptease firmament. Of special note are Betty Rowland dancing in panel 12, and being escorted into court to face obscenity charges in panel 13, Bettie Page from one of her nude shorts in panel 20, Lilly Christine in panel 21, Lili St. Cyr in panel 22, two shots from one of Nazi Germany’s legendarily decadent mid-1930s burlesque shows in panels 23 and 24, a shot from a 1945 Tokyo burlesque show staged for American GIs in panel 25, and finally Tempest Storm in the last panel. We hope these images take the edge off those Monday blahs. 

Above is a Brazilian cover for German-born author Bruno Fischer’s Os Túmulos Não Falam, which would translate as something like “Graves Don’t Speak”. However, Fischer never wrote a book with that name, so this is one of those occasions where the original title was scrapped, which means we can’t tell you which English language release this corresponds to. We do know it’s a Ben Helm mystery, and that it involves a hypothetical perfect murder. It also involves perfect cover art, though sadly it goes uncredited. Fischer was a popular author, thus he deserves a more detailed treatment, which we’ll give him a little ways down the line. 

Above is an amazing German promo poster for Der Schwanz des Skorpions, aka La coda dello scorpione, aka The Case of the Scorpion’s Tail. You may have noticed we’re on a bit of a giallo kick of late. This one was directed by Sergio Martino, who also gave us the unforgettably titled thrillers Your Vice Is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key and The Bodies Bear Traces of Carnal Violence. When a woman inherits a million dollars from a husband who died in a plane crash, people start crawling out of the woodwork and all of them want a share of the loot. We won’t go into more detail, except to say that it’s pretty good, and the interesting Swedish actress Anita Strindberg—whose fantastically-shaped mouth probably fueled about fifty million erotic fantasies during the seventies—co-stars with hunky George Hilton. The title refers to a scorpion cufflink that’s a clue to the killer’s identity, but we didn’t really pay too much attention to the plot details because we were too busy contemplating the anti-gravitational properties of Strindberg’s two, uh, body modifications. They must be among the first to appear on a movie screen, so Der Schwanz des Skorpions isn’t just a fun giallo, it’s also historically significant. Sort of. It opened in West Berlin, West Germany, today in 1973. 

German poster for Mario Bava’s 1968 camp masterpiece Diabolik. We’re a little surprised how few people actually get this film, which pushed the swinging sixties thriller to its illogical extreme. The lead character—played by John Phillip Law—was a thief, and a rather Machiavellian one at that, who didn’t mind innocent people getting hurt if it meant more profit. Sounds a bit like a Goldman Sachs executive, right? But where investment bankers are typically balding math majors pretending to be swashbucklers of high finance, Diabolik was 100% stud, complete with a secret identity, a high tech underground lair, and a female sidekick always ready for some down and dirty. We recommend you check this one out next time you’re in the mood for a laugh. Diabolik premiered in West Germany today in 1968. 

Sean Connery with his signature Walther PPK and steely gaze on the cover of a German film program for Feuerball, aka Thunderball, 1965. As you might be able to guess from looking at the word, "feuer" does not mean thunder—it means fire. So the German title is actually "Fireball."

We have no idea what’s going on in this 1950 issue of the German magazine Das Ronke because German is not one of our languages. What are major stars doing paired with various automobile brands? Nein idea. Are they ads? Possibly. We’ve seen American stars used in foreign ads before. But ads imply legitimacy, so why are there naked women in the magazine? We ask because you would think, especially in 1950, no Hollywood actress would wish to be associated with a smut publication, especially one that has broken the magical pubic hair rule that at the time defined obscenity. It’s all destined to remain a mystery to us until we find ourselves a German somewhere. We’ll try the nearest pub and get back to you on this later. 

American actress Debra Feuer seen here in a promo still from one of our favorite movies, Leben und Sterben in L.A., aka To Live and Die in L.A., 1985 

Liliana Cavani’s controversial drama Il portiere di notte, aka The Night Porter, is a landmark of Italian cinema, and another of those seventies films that could never be made today. It involves the sado-masochistic relationship between a concentration camp survivor, played by Charlotte Rampling, and a former camp officer, played by Dirk Bogarde. The camp is eventually liberated, but the Nazi manages to escape the Allies. Postwar he builds a normal-seeming life but must carefully hide his former identity. Meanwhile, the woman builds a normal-seeming marriage, but conceals her psychological scars. In Vienna years later, the woman is shocked to encounter the Nazi again, and soon their destructive codependency is rekindled. The amazing promo poster above uses a frame from the movie’s pivotal scene, a flashback in which Rampling performs a striptease wearing an SS uniform, after which her captor rewards her á la Salomé with the head of a prisoner who has been tormenting her. Il portiere di notte is dark, slow, and deadly serious, but for the true film buff it’s probably a must-see. It was generally well-reviewed upon release, but there were also slams from a few major critics. In the end, you’ll have to make your own decision. Il portiere di notte premiered in West Germany yesterday, 1974. 

German actress Elke Sommer in her up-do on the cover of New York News Sunday magazine, forty-six years ago today.