| Vintage Pulp | Feb 22 2019 |
I'd prefer to eat her with a Château Latour Pauillac and some grilled vegetables, but a werewolf has to make do.
This lycanthrope painted by William Randolph for the cover of Avon's 1951 edition of Guy Endore's The Werewolf of Paris has been caught red-handed eating his entree without a side and a garnish, not to mention the lack of a fine red wine. Being a murderous werewolf is one thing. That can be forgiven. But eating this way could cost him his French citizenship. Endore's take on werewolfery was originally published in 1933, was almost forgotten as recently as a few years ago, but seems to be gaining stature of late. We're happy to do our part. It's a deliberate tale—its setting in late 1800s France first has to be framed by a 1930s snoop doing a retelling from a found court manuscript, then within the account the wolfman character of Bertrand must be conceived, born, and raised, before being set on his bloody path in Paris, a city that offers a perfect hiding place. Endore explains why with this lyrical passage:
Before the greater importance of thousands going to death, before a greater werewolf drinking the blood of regiments, of what importance was a little werewolf like Bertrand?
Which is to say Bertrand has disappeared into the labyrinth of Paris during the chaos of the Franco-Prussian War. His appetites soon grow to include not only the living, but the dead, which he digs from fresh graves in Père Lachaise and Cimetière de Montmartre. Pretty interesting stuff, this novel. Of course, werewolf stories always end tragically, but it's the journey that matters. Endore crafts an atmospheric tale—and one that's frank too, for 1933. Endore counts on his readers to not be puritannical about Bertrand's sexual explorations. Nor about sacrilege, nor children being eaten, nor incest, it seems. But as horrific as all these atrocities are, ultimately Endore asks which is the greater werewolf—Bertrand or war? Since in reality one exists and the other doesn't, we know the answer. The Werewolf of Paris is a fascinating tale, not pulp style, but certainly worth a read for fans of any types of fiction.
Which is to say Bertrand has disappeared into the labyrinth of Paris during the chaos of the Franco-Prussian War. His appetites soon grow to include not only the living, but the dead, which he digs from fresh graves in Père Lachaise and Cimetière de Montmartre. Pretty interesting stuff, this novel. Of course, werewolf stories always end tragically, but it's the journey that matters. Endore crafts an atmospheric tale—and one that's frank too, for 1933. Endore counts on his readers to not be puritannical about Bertrand's sexual explorations. Nor about sacrilege, nor children being eaten, nor incest, it seems. But as horrific as all these atrocities are, ultimately Endore asks which is the greater werewolf—Bertrand or war? Since in reality one exists and the other doesn't, we know the answer. The Werewolf of Paris is a fascinating tale, not pulp style, but certainly worth a read for fans of any types of fiction.
| Femmes Fatales | Feb 2 2019 |
Stuck between noir and a dark place
London born Sally Gray has an interesting aka—she was Constance Vera Browne, Baroness Oranmore and Browne. From 1930 to 1952, billed as Gray, she appeared in more than twenty films, including Danger in Paris, Green for Danger, I Became a Criminal, and the 1949 film noir Obsession. We don't have a date on this photo but the noir style of it, Gray's youthful appearance, and the fact that she made no films between 1942 and 1945 leads us to triangulate it to around 1946. Don't quote us on it.
Edit: Some sources have since claimed the photo was made for Gray's 1949 film The Hidden Room, but we've found one with a press sticker on the flipside and it says this:
Just right for informal evening wear is this emerald green jumper in fine silk with wool crepe with its well-cut simple black skirt and bright gold buttons; seen on Sally Gray appearing in the new Two Cities Film of Compton Mackenzie's "Carnival", starring Sally Gray and Michael Wilding, with Stanley Holloway and Bernard Miles; directed by Stanley Haynes at Denham Studios.
Carnival was a period movie in which Gray wore no modern wardrobe, so this is not a shot of her in character from the film. It may be one of those promos unassociated with any film. Actors shot sessions all the time just to keep their visual material current. However, in either case, Carnival was made in 1946, so our guess about the year was spot-on.
| Intl. Notebook | Jan 20 2019 |
Is there anything sweeter than a beautiful movie palace?
You probably recognize Grauman's Chinese Theatre, in Los Angeles. These days it's called TCL Chinese Theatre, because it's owned and operated by TCL Corporation—based in China, ironically. Since we write so often about movies we thought it appropriate to discuss the beautiful buildings in which the films were exhibited. Back in the day these were usually purpose-built structures, though some did split duty for stage productions and concerts. While many of these old palaces survive, nearly all surviving vintage cinemas in the U.S. were under threat at some point. Generally, if they hadn't been given historic protection they wouldn't be upright today.
Other times, if a city was poor, real estate costs didn't rise and old buildings stood unthreatened, usually idle. This happened often in the American midwest, where movie houses were neglected for decades before some were resurrected amid downtown revitalizations. It sometimes happens in Latin America too, although occasionally the formula fails. For example, Cartagena's majestic and oft photographed landmark Teatro Colón, located in the historic section of Colombia's most popular coastal tourist city, was torn down fewer than six months ago to make way for a Four Seasons Hotel.
Some of the cinemas below are well known treasures, while others are more unassuming places. But even those lesser known cinemas show how much thought and work was put into making moviegoing a special experience. The last photo, which shows the Butterfly Theatre in Milwaukee, exemplifies that idea. The façade is distinguished by a terra cotta butterfly sculpture adorned with light bulbs. As you might guess, many of the most beautiful large cinemas were in Los Angeles, which means that city is well represented in the collection. Enjoy.
Paramount Theatre, Oakland (operational).
Cine Maya, Mérida (demolished).
The Albee Cinema, Cincinnati (demolished)
Cooper Theatre, Denver (demolished).
Paras Cinema, Jaipur (operational).
Cathay Cinema, Shanghai (operational).
Academy Theatre, Los Angeles (operational).
Charlottenburg Filmwerbung, Berlin (demolished).
Pacific's Cinerama Theatre, Los Angeles (operational).
York Theatre, Elmhurst (operational).
La Gaumont-Palace, Paris (demolished).
Essoldo Cinema, Newcastle (demolished).
Théâtre Scala, Strasbourg (operational).
Teatro Colón, Cartagena (demolished in 2018).
Teatro Coliseo Argentino, Buenos Aires (demolished).
Pavilion Theater, Adelaide (demolished).
El Molino Teatro, Barcelona (operational).
Fox Carthay Theatre, Los Angeles (demolished).
Kino Rossiya Teatr, Moscow (operational).
Nippon Gekijo, aka Nichigeki, Tokyo (demolished).
Cine Impala, Namibe (operational).
Cine Arenal, Havana (operational).
Teatro Mérida, Mérida (operational, renamed Teatro Armando Manzanero).
Ideal Theater, Manila (demolished).
Odeon Cinema, London (semi-demolished, converted to apartments).
Mayan Theatre, Los Angeles (operational).
Rex Cinema, Port au Prince (being restored).
Urania Kino, Vienna (operational).
Tampa Theatre, Tampa (operational).
The Butterfly Theater, Milwaukee (demolished).Los AngelesLondonMilwaukeeViennaMéridaBuenos AiresHavanaTampaTokyoBarcelonaManilaMoscowParisBerlinCartagenaOaklandJaipurCincinnatiStrasbourgDenverShanghaicinema
| Vintage Pulp | Jan 8 2019 |
Around the world in sixty pages.
Exotic Adventures was a men's magazine put out by NYC based Gladiator Publications, Inc. It seems obvious the company had great ambitions, but it managed only six issues before folding. This one came in 1959 with cover art signed “Louis,” whose full identity is not given. In fact, only three people are listed as staff—editor George P. Wallace and two others—so the cover artist wasn't the only hard worker who got short shrift. The individual authors are given bylines, though, as are the men who narrated their "true" tales to biographers.
Exotic Destinations lived up to its name, with pieces set in Kashmir, French Cameroon, Morocco, Honduras, Malaya, and Borneo, and nude models who are supposedly from Japan, Brazil, France, and Germany. It was all printed on glossy paper, which is why you won't see the usual yellowing you get with old magazines, though the printing got a little streaky and inconsistent in the middle pages. Still, taken as a whole Exotic Adventures is a high quality publication, which we snared courtesy of the now idle Darwin's Scans blog. Forty-plus panels below.
MoroccoHondurasFranceMalayaKashmirParisFrench CameroonNew York CityExotic Adventuresmagazine artliterature
| Vintage Pulp | Dec 21 2018 |
There's really no reason to apologize.
How rare is this poster? Beyond rare. It's an eight panel promo for the Brigitte Bardot comedy Une parisienne, which premiered in Japan today in 1957 as Tonogata gomen asobase, which means something like, “sorry, gentlemen.” When you turn the thing over it has all sorts of info about the film. We uploaded the flipside intact, and also split it into two pieces so you can see its various aspects a little better. It's just an amazing piece of memorabilia.
There's actually another Japanese poster for the movie—the far less rare version everyone else has—and you see that below. It's also nice, but not in the same class. Just for the moment, Pulp Intl. is the only place you can see this alternate Tonogata gomen asobase promo, and we didn't watermark it because that would really be something to apologize for. We talked about the movie back in July, and if you're curious you can read that here.
There's actually another Japanese poster for the movie—the far less rare version everyone else has—and you see that below. It's also nice, but not in the same class. Just for the moment, Pulp Intl. is the only place you can see this alternate Tonogata gomen asobase promo, and we didn't watermark it because that would really be something to apologize for. We talked about the movie back in July, and if you're curious you can read that here.
| Vintage Pulp | Dec 20 2018 |
She's had it up to here with men.
And in complete thematic contrast to the above, here we have a Japanese poster for the French porn film Le sexe qui parle, aka Pussy Talk. Believe it or not, like Casablanca, this was an award winner—it took the grand prize at the first and only Festival du Film Pornographique de Paris, held in August 1975. Does that mean it's a good movie? Well, it's still porn, so good is relative, isn't it? Plotwise it's pretty simple. Pénélope Lamour's vagina starts talking. What does it say? That it wants air, firstly. Other demands come later. And they are demands, because this organ with a witchlike voice doesn't take no for an answer.
It sounds a bit out there, perhaps, but French filmmakers have a way of infusing anything with intellect, which means there's an underlying social message here. Or are we giving them too much credit? Maybe anything a vagina says would seem packed with metaphor, under the circumstances. This particular unruly organ even talks when Lamour is asleep, which leads to it telling Lamour's appalled husband about its notable past encounters, including with a priest. Her vagina is spilling these secrets because it wants to drive the husband out of her (their) life. Just imagine.
When asked why it started speaking, little Lamour reveals, “We can all speak. It's just that most of us don't feel the need until one day we've had enough.” And we've revealed enough. You'll have to watch it yourself to find out where it all leads. We expect a woman's take on the film would differ greatly from a man's, but in both cases it will certainly generate material for discussion. After opening in France in November 1975, Le sexe qui parle talked its way into Japan today the same year.
When asked why it started speaking, little Lamour reveals, “We can all speak. It's just that most of us don't feel the need until one day we've had enough.” And we've revealed enough. You'll have to watch it yourself to find out where it all leads. We expect a woman's take on the film would differ greatly from a man's, but in both cases it will certainly generate material for discussion. After opening in France in November 1975, Le sexe qui parle talked its way into Japan today the same year.
FranceParisFestival du Film Pornographique de ParisLe sexe qui parleプッシー・トークPussy TalkPénélope Lamourposter artcinemamovie reviewxxxnudity
| Vintage Pulp | Nov 11 2018 |
That's no lady—that's Brigitte Bardot.
Above, an iconic poster painted by Giorgio Olivetti for the 1957 Brigitte Bardot comedy Una parigina, originally released as La Parisienne. The Bardot figure here was the first femme fatale graphic ever used as the symbol of Pulp Intl., which some of you may remember. Olivetti painted two promos for the film. The second one, just below, is less famous, but still beautiful. We talked about this movie over the summer, and in short it's Bardot running around Paris creating Monroesque chaos among the male population, though with a winkingly more adult subtext than in your average Monroe romp. In other words, there's a hint here and there that Bardot actually gets laid. We don't think that ever happened in Marilyn's comedies. If you're curious about the movie, or interested in seeing the nice U.S. poster—which also features Bardot in her famous red dress—have a look here.
| Intl. Notebook | Sep 30 2018 |
U.S. magazine offers its vision of the world.
Model and singer Corky Crowley stars on this September 1948 cover of See magazine, a publication that came out of New York City and fell squarely into the Life and Look category. We picked this up years ago in the U.S. and never got around to posting it because its large format and the resultant necessity to scan pages in halves and join them in Photoshop deterred us. But we finally had a few spare hours we opted not to spend on a local terrace sipping white wine, and today you have the result.
Inside this monster mag you get photo features, celebs, politics, travel and more. Probably the most interesting feature is the one detailing the transformation of a French typist into a high society dame. It was done as a promotional feature by the magazine Point de Vue and they called it “Cinderella for a Day.” For this installment they chose a woman named Juliet Latifa, who they coiffed, dressed, sent to the swankiest Parisian nightspots, hooked up with the celeb set, then sent packing at the end of the night just like in the fairy tale.
The final photo caption sums it up: “Her 24 hour dream ended, drab normalcy not unexpectedly overtakes Cinderella, but unforgettable memories will serve to bolster her occasionally slipping morale.” Wow—belittle much, See editors? In any case, the photos of Latifa's night out are nice. We wish we could scan all the shots in the magazine but there are more than a hundred and we just don't have that kind of stamina. We managed about twenty pages divided into thirty plus panels featuring Latifa, Anna Neagle, Michael Wilding, Ingrid Bergman dressed in armor for her role in Joan of Arc, and more.
FranceParisNew York CityJoan of ArcSee MagazinePoint de VueCorky CrowleyAndré DassaryAnna NeagleMichael WildingIngrid BergmanJoan BrandonRegina ResnickGerri GaleAlfred Drake
| Vintage Pulp | Jul 30 2018 |
Being diplomatic is one way to get what you want. And then there's Bardot's way.
This is one of the most classic of Brigitte Bardot's movie posters, with the smiling superstar holding an Eiffel Tower in her hands, implying that all France is her plaything. That much is undeniable. It was originally titled Une parisenne, but for its English language release it was given the slightly different title La Parisienne, and in it Bardot does what Bardot always does—stops traffic, generates previously undiscovered quantum states of chaos, and flips reality upside down. This time around she plays Brigitte Laurier, the prime minister's stubborn daughter, in love her father's assistant, who tries as hard as he can not to get involved with her. Why would he resist Bardot? Because she's too young, and he already has a (married) girlfriend. He finally marries Bardot through a set of crazy circumstances, but refuses to give up his mistress, which of course leads to a jealous Brigitte taking matters into her own hands. This is a classic French style sex comedy, with confusion, mistaken assumptions, and people sneaking into each other's beds, all in service of teaching the lesson that what's good for the goose is good for the gander.
Focusing on the poster for a moment, you can see it's a high quality piece of art, but it's attributed to nobody. We checked around and came up with zip. You'll notice it says La Parisienne was Bardot's first big picture. We doubt that—it was her eighteenth movie. We can find no evidence anywhere that this one was different budgetwise than her other headlining efforts. Possibly, “big” is a reference to the plot's focus on international politics and diplomacy. The film does seem to have a larger scope, and take place against a larger backdrop than usual. So maybe that's it. Or maybe the American distributors meant that it was the first of Bardot's films to receive a big promotional push in the U.S. We just don't know. But here's what we're sure about: after a successful run in Europe beginning in late 1957, La Parisienne premiered in New York City today in 1958.
Focusing on the poster for a moment, you can see it's a high quality piece of art, but it's attributed to nobody. We checked around and came up with zip. You'll notice it says La Parisienne was Bardot's first big picture. We doubt that—it was her eighteenth movie. We can find no evidence anywhere that this one was different budgetwise than her other headlining efforts. Possibly, “big” is a reference to the plot's focus on international politics and diplomacy. The film does seem to have a larger scope, and take place against a larger backdrop than usual. So maybe that's it. Or maybe the American distributors meant that it was the first of Bardot's films to receive a big promotional push in the U.S. We just don't know. But here's what we're sure about: after a successful run in Europe beginning in late 1957, La Parisienne premiered in New York City today in 1958. 
FranceNew York CityUne parisienneLa ParisienneBrigitte BardotHenri Vidalposter artcinemamovie review
| Intl. Notebook | Jul 28 2018 |
The dancers of the chorus line request your attention.
This is the fifth issue of Cancans de Paris we've shared. The magazine is fast becoming a favorite. It has that mix we like—celebs, showgirls, and cartoons. It's similar to magazines such as Paris Hollywood and Gondel, but with a simpler layout and all black-and-white photography. This issue is from July 1966 and features Gila Golan on the cover, and inside are Julie London, Mireille Darc, and others from the acting profession. You also get Sally Ann Scoth, Karin Brault, Juanita Sanchez, and other colleagues from the dancer side of show business. The entire issue appears below in thirty panels, and you can see the other issues by clicking the appropriate keywords at bottom.
FranceCancans de ParisGila GolanMireille DarcSally Ann ScothKarin BaultStefanie SandrelliJuanita SanchezSusan HaywardJulie Londonburlesque
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