Always make sure your sexploitation is heated to the proper temperature.
“Eros center,” or sometimes “eroscenter,” is a term used in Germany to refer to a street or building where sex is for sale. Every major city has one. We wrote about Cologne's eros center Pascha a long while back. In Hamburg, the eros center is a street known as the Herbertstraße, which is where some of the action in Eros-Center Hamburg takes place.
Gunter Hendel directed and stars as a journalist who arrives in town to interview eros center prostitutes just as a knife killer begins terrorizing the district. We know even before we see Hendel practicing karate that he's going to be the hero here. But Eros-Center Hamburg is supposed to be a sexploitation movie, so how does it fare on that front? Sadly, not well.
We remember reading somewhere that Hendel clashed with his producer over Eros-Center's sexual content. He managed to keep it down to a few bare bosoms and asses, which suggests he saw the film not as sexploitation but as a vehicle to promote himself as a serious director, a screen star, or both. He must have been smoking something imported from Amsterdam, because he's a terrible director and a charisma challenged actor.
The truth is the only reason we watched this movie is because the angel who goes by the earthly name Doris Arden is in it, but she makes a criminally early exit thanks to the slasher and our attention bled out at that point too. There are some hilarious moments, but overall we suggest you save yourself the time. Eros-Center Hamburg premiered in West Germany today in 1969.
Hey Gunter, can I get some lip balm for this scene? I'm all dried out.
Don't worry, sweetie. I've got extra. Just lean down here and pucker up.
Help... dying... last wish... to see dripping wet naked woman.
The cover art for this 1948 Avon edition of Paul Cain's Fast One kind of looks like a guy's about to drop dead in front of a bathing woman, but actually he's merely been shoved into the bathroom by the story's anti-hero protagonist. It's always interesting which moment an artist (or a publisher directing an artist) will choose for a cover. This is not an important event in the narrative, but the chance to show a woman in the bath was apparently too enticing to pass up.
The backdrop here is prohibition era Los Angeles and the main character Gerry Kells and the femme fatale S (we never learn her first name) are pulled into a maelstrom of trouble when Kells refuses to work for his old crime buddies and in retaliation they frame him for murder. The novel was put together from five stories that appeared in Black Mask magazine, and when it was published Cain—aka Peter Ruric, aka George Sims—was hailed as a giant of hard-boiled fiction on par with Hammett and Chandler. We don't know about that, but Fast One is a good read—bare bones and quick paced and filled with random brutality.
The bio page for Fast One says Cain “has lived as he writes—at high speed and with violence.” It's a phrase that makes you want details but none are provided. We imagine the description is accurate, though, because Cain published this single novel, as well as some screenplays (including for The Black Cat), then vanished into obscurity and eventually died of alcoholism.
In Hollywood a good name is half the battle.
She had one of the most memorable monikers in Hollywood history. She appeared in more than sixty films, scores of television shows, and probably a couple of dozen television movies too, and all without very much in the way of serious studio push. She did have a contract with Columbia Pictures, but many of her appearances were uncredited. Nevertheless she worked steadily for forty years, which a lot of bigger stars can't say. She was born Jean Marie Donnell but she acted as Jeff Donnell—not a name you'd easily forget—and this photo shows her in 1942.
His martial arts are lethal and his wardrobe is killer.
Above is a poster for the Hong Kong actioner Quan Ji, aka Duel of Fists, which, based on the placement of the English text, you'd actually expect to be called Duel of Nuts. Or are we the only ones seeing that? Anyway, what you get here is the story of a nerdy engineer slash ace martial artist who learns from his ailing father that he has a long lost older brother, the result of a whirlwind affair with a Thai girl. Sent to Bangkok to find his sibling, geek boy eventually discovers him in a fighting ring. A series of circumstances that begins with big brother beating the local crime syndicate's champion brings the wrath of the bad guys, and the brothers have no choice but to go medieval on the entire mob.
This movie is worth watching for two reasons. First, some of the fighting is Muay Thai, which was obscure to westerners back then and makes Quan Ji one of the first films to showcase that particular discipline. And second, David Chang plays the unsophisticated younger brother while wearing a series of gaudy outfits that you'd absolutely love to have for your next ’70s party. Chang has made more than a hundred movies and was still active just a couple of years ago, but we doubt he ever surpassed the discofied wardrobe he wore here. Despite the Rick James flavor he brings to the party we'd describe the movie as merely adequate. But it did make us want to listen to "Super Freak." Quan ji premiered in Hong Kong today in 1971.
I've met so many girls. Then I come to Bangkok and meet one who sees as much value in primary colors as I do. What are the odds?
By the way in Hong Kong one of our official languages is English, and in English Bangkok sounds like... Well, I'll explain it in detail later.
I told her what Bangkok sounds like and she loved it. Total keeper.
I know every dojo in the Far East and I've never heard of your Studio 54.
You wouldn't shoot the best electric slider in all of Thailand, would you?
I'm going to demonstrate this one more time. It's called the hustle and I learned it in the East Village.
Everybody was Muay Thai fightin'.... HUAH! Those kids were fast as lightning...
You better run, losers and haters! Come back when you learn how to dress!
Depending on the opponent's particular style and what the deejay is spinning these dance-offs can get pretty violent.
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.
What's mostly style and virtually no logic? A typical giallo.
Giallo films occasionally take on taboo subject matter. In western cinema little is more taboo than child murder. Non si sevizia un paperino, aka Don't Torture a Duckling unabashedly uses this premise, as police in rural Italy try to solve the murder of a 12-year-old named Bruno. “The guy's obviously going to be a mental case,” one cop says. “The killer's a maniac,” says another. But cops are notoriously obtuse in these films. Was the killer really some nut job? Bruno was one of a trio of close friends who spent a lot of time together playing in the hills. When a second member of the group turns up dead it seems clear that the three boys saw something they shouldn't have and are now being targeted.
As usual in giallo there are extraneous moments littered throughout the plot. Why does creepy ass Florinda Bolkan play in the muck with three voodoo dolls that seem to represent the three boys? Why does a local farmer wander the woods during a late night thunderstorm chopping down foliage with a machete? Why does Barbara Bouchet lounge in her room nude under a sun lamp? Actually, we know the answer to that last question—the filmmakers had one of cinema's great beauties on their hands and weren't about to let the opportunity to show her pass. We couldn't let it pass either. See the promo images below.
Getting back to the positives, we enjoyed watching sex symbol Bolkan dirty herself up to play a mountain witch, loved Bouchet's assortment of ultra cool outfits and cars, and thought the filmmakers used the Basilicata countryside to good effect. But who did the killing? Was it Bolkan the witch? The big city drug addict? The handsome local priest? The mentally disabled man-boy? The priest's strange mother? Giallo mysteries are not usually written in such a way as to be solvable, so in truth it's hard to care. But even if Non si sevizia un paperino isn't an involving puzzle, it's great eye candy with a bizarrely graphic ending that must be seen to be believed. It premiered in Italy today in 1972.
It's unorthodox for the beach, but in case you haven't noticed, I can wear anything and look good.
Above is a photo of U.S. model Naomi Sims, a pioneering figure in the world of fashion who achieved global recognition in the 1960s while still a teenager. She was the first black model to front publications as diverse as Life and Ladies' Home Journal. Hollywood of course came calling. She was offered the lead in Cleopatra Jones but turned it down because she saw it as racist. She had a point. Blaxploitation movies are culturally significant and most are fun, but they hinge on crime stereotypes. In a country where so many are willing to see the stereotypes as encompassing of an entire people the argument could be made that the films were harmful. Sims wasn't the first or last to say so. In any case, that was the end of her flirtation with Hollywood, but she went on to author books on health, beauty, and the modeling industry. This photo dates from 1971.
You're amazing. This whole reputation you have for evil is totally undeserved. Wait, what are you doing? Hey, I can't bre— *glug*
Another cheapie cover from Greenleaf Classics, Lust Demon by Don Elliott, with a tableau featuring a nipple-less devil woman and her unsuspecting companion. This isn't just any sleaze—it's sleaze by Robert Silverberg hiding behind the Elliott pseudonym. We've read of few of his smut efforts now, and he's better than the average literary perv. That doesn't sound like a compliment, but it really is. 1966 on this with art by uncredited.
Why the hell didn't I think to have the bank teller double bag this?
We keep sharing posters for Stanley Kubrick's thriller The Killing because each one we see is unique and interesting. Above is an Italian poster we missed when we shared three other promos from Italy last year. This one, with its broken sack of cash symbolizing the futility of the central robbery, was painted by Giuliano Nistri. It's impressive that the Italian distributors commissioned three completely different masterful promos for the film, but that was the golden era of cinematic art. These days in Italy, as everywhere, movie posters are merely photographs with text emblazoned across them, but once upon a time they produced amazing things like what you see above, and here. Rapina a mano armata, aka The Killing premiered in Italy today in 1957.
I know I shouldn't laugh, but I never realized you even had a heart.
In the 1952 crime thriller One for Hell trouble comes to the fictional West Texas oil town of Breton and it arrives by train. Author Jada M. Davis tells the readers this with strong style, as various characters around town hear a sound portentous of approaching calamity but which they don't yet recognize as such. Davis writes in chapter three, “Far off, faint but clear, a train whistle mourned the passing of the night. Whoo-ooo-ooo, whoo-ooo-ooo, whooooo...”
Chapter four starts this way: The mayor heard the whistle, the whoo-ooo-oooing, shrilly whoo-ooo-oooing whistle, and sat up in bed.
Chapter five opens with this: Chief Bronson heard the whoo-ooo-oooing, whoo-ooo-OOO, whoo-ooo-oooing of the train and was glad morning was on its way.
And chapter six opens: The train whistle sounded fuzzy and dreamy to Laura Green, the whoo-ooo-ooo, whoo-ooo-ooo, whooooo-oooing-oooing lonesomely lonely and by itself.
Yes, trouble has arrived in the form of a man so bad he'll turn even the most corrupt town west of the Mississippi River upside down. He's a man who has no limits to how much he'll lie, what he'll steal, and who he'll hurt. He's a thief and a grifter. When he stumbles into a position of authority there's no thought of playing it straight. The trust he's given just means more opportunity to do wrong.
We suspect Jada Davis identified a bit with his creation, because like the author, his lead character has a name that sounds like it belongs to a woman—Willa. And he has an attitude about it, as a couple of characters find out when they comment on the fact. Willa robs stores, frames the innocent, beats women, and worse. He's racist, sexist, and destructive in ways most ’50s crime novel bad guys can't even touch. Nature or nurture? It's impossible to know.
All in all One for Hell is an effectively dark piece of entertainment, but not for the faint of heart in these days when the difference between depicting evil and endorsing it seems ever harder for people to discern. This edition came from Red Seal and it has cover art by John Floherty, Jr., who was active throughout the 1940s and 1950s. We featured another one of his covers not long ago, and you can see that here. We'll see if we can dig up more down the line.
The headlines that mattered yesteryear.
1964—China Detonates Nuke
At the Lop Nur test site located between the Taklamakan and Kuruktag deserts, the People's Republic of China detonates its first nuclear weapon, codenamed 596 after the month of June 1959, which is when the program was initiated.
1996—Handgun Ban in the UK
In response to a mass shooting in Dunblane, Scotland that kills 16 children, the British Conservative government announces a law to ban all handguns, with the exception .22 caliber target pistols. When Labor takes power several months later, they extend the ban to all handguns.
Pierre Laval, who was the premier of Vichy, France, which had collaborated with the Nazis during World War II, is shot by a firing squad for treason. In subsequent years it emerges that Laval may have considered himself a patriot whose goal was to publicly submit to the Germans while doing everything possible behind the scenes to thwart them. In at least one respect he may have succeeded: fifty percent of French Jews survived the war, whereas in other territories about ninety percent perished.
1966—Black Panthers Form
In the U.S., in Oakland, California, Huey P. Newton and Bobby Seale form the Black Panther political party. The Panthers are active in American politics throughout the 1960s and 1970s, but eventually legal troubles combined with a schism over the direction of the party lead to its dissolution.
1962—Cuban Missile Crisis Begins
A U-2 spy plane flight over the island of Cuba produces photographs of Soviet nuclear missiles being installed. Though American missiles have been installed near Russia, the U.S. decides that no such weapons will be tolerated in Cuba. The resultant standoff brings the U.S. and the Soviet Union to the brink of war. The crisis finally ends with a secret deal in which the U.S. removes its missiles from Turkey in exchange for the Soviets removing the Cuban weapons.
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