If you swallow a key does it become a pass key? Just wondering. Whatever you call it, you won't be seeing it again for up to three days, according to what we read about human digestion. But we digress. Above is a beautiful cover for Call Girl by Gail Jordan, aka Peggy Gaddis, for Quarter Books, copyright 1949 with uncredited art. If you've never visited the blog Sleazy Digest Books, we suggest heading over there for a look at this cover and many others in the same style. 

Most 1970s tabloids espouse the idea of easy sexual availability of women for men, but Midnight, more than others, made that its reason for existence. You’ve seen the covers here before—a wild and willing Nobu McCarthy, the girl that seduces an entire town, mail-order love slaves, et al. In this issue published today in 1965, cover star Raquel Welch tells readers she thinks married men should be free to roam. She explains: “Most adulterous men get that way because their wives don’t know how—or simply don’t give a damn—on satisfying them emotionally. Adultery serves to get rid of tensions and restore a man’s faith in his desirability.” Music to Midnight’s male readers’ ears, we’re sure, but did Welch ever say that? The article sounds more like a bad high school essay than an interview. It even ends with this bit: “That’s why I claim that adultery can very easily save a marriage!” Which is more like the summation after a debate rebuttal than anything from a real interview. It’s like—“Tah dah! Thank you. Thank you very much.” So we’re thinking this all came from the typewriter of a really bad Midnight assistant editor. But we love the cover.

We’re pretty brave when it comes old sexploitation movies, but this one was really, really, really, really bad. Four students from some sort of adult girls school are raped one night when they’re out on the town and afterward they decide to fight back. They take martial arts, learn to shoot, dress up in black leather jackets (but virtually nothing else), hit the streets and beat the living shit out of the guys that attacked them. Revenge whets their appetites and, naming themselves the Black Alley Cats after their leather gear, they become urban vigilantes. There’s more to it—for instance a subplot involving illicit porn movies—but really the production is such a mess it seems rudderless. In tone it’s like a Japanese pinku flick, but not cleverly scripted, choreographed, shot, or edited.

Anyway, Black Alley Cats is grindhouse of the rawest variety. It was originally rated X, and presumably still bears that designation. In a rational 2013 it would be re-rated an R, but that’ll never happen because nothing terrifies the greyhairs at the various ratings agencies around the globe like a visible black penis, and a big one at that. So X it is, whichmeans you can probably forget about getting the movie in your Netflix queue. But maybe that’s just as well. Black Alley Cats has some enjoyable aspects—notably Sunshine Woods, a supporting cast of hilariously irredeemable male sleazeballs, and those spectacular bushes (did we mention Sunshine Woods?)—but otherwise this is not a great effort. We have some murky stills below with actual—not made up—lines of dialogue. The movie premiered in West Germany under the English title Black Cats today in 1973.

“The third technique will be snatching the groin, destroying the groin, reaching in, ripping away. Ready? RIP!”

“Rub his body. You’ve always wanted to touch a black man.”

“Take your panties off. You’re not going to need them tonight.”

“What the fuck are them honky bitches doing here?”

“At least they don’t cheat food money from their own people.”

“That motherfuckin’ son of a bitch. What in the hell kind of doctor is he?”

We’re back to the West German publication Illustrierte Film-Bühne today, supplementing our post from two months ago. These examples are all from American dramas or films noir produced during the 1940s and early 1950s, but which premiered in West Germany later, typically 1954 or after. You can see the earlier IFB collection here.