It's a big gun, but she's hunting big game.
Italian actress Luciana Paluzzi looks convincingly lethal sporting a Remington 1000 shotgun in this promo shot from the James Bond thriller Thunderball—though she's so small we suspect if she fired it she'd somersault backward into the ocean. But in the film she handles the gun just fine as Fiona Volpe, a member of the murderous spy cartel S.P.E.C.T.R.E. Most Bond aficionados consider her one of the top femmes fatales of the series, and we agree. The image dates from 1965.
Junko Mabuki starts a chain reaction.
Junko Mabuki is an important actress of second generation Japanese S&M movies, and that's her above on a poster for Dan Oniroku onna biyoshi nawa shiku, aka Female Beautician Rope Discipline. What you see is what you get here. Junko meets a photographer who shoots bondage and discipline. At first she's repulsed, but, this being a roman porno flick, the thought of it grows in her mind. Meanwhile we meet Izumi Shima, one of the photog's bondage subjects. Junko soon crosses paths with Izumi and is attracted to her—and who wouldn't be?—but it's just the beginning of a descent into degradation, jealousy, and serious male-driven pee-version.
We're still trying wrap our heads around the various forms of Japanese cinema. Toei's pinky violence films usually had cool ’70s street action and ass kicking gang girls, whereas Nikkatsu's roman porno had submissive women and sexual subjugation. They're all generally considered to be pink films, along with output from OP Eiga and other studios, but to us they're night and day. Pinky violence and roman porno represent two big studios in competition with each other, but more and more the patriarchy smashing ethos of the former feels like a rebuttal to the latter. In this one, though, the sadistic photographer gets his—spoiler alert!—head deservedly bashed in. Dan Oniroku onna biyoshi nawa shiku premiered in Japan today in 1981.
Always beware of charming strangers.
Above, an Italian poster for René Clement's classic drama Delitto in pieno sole, which was originally made in France as Plein Soleil and is known is English as Purple Noon. The movie, you may already know, is based on a Patricia Highsmith novel and tells the sinister story of the psychopath Tom Ripley. The poster art is by Averardo Ciriello, a prolific illustrator of not only movie promos, but also paperback covers and comic books. Click his keywords below to see more, and you can see another brilliant poster for Plein Soleil here.
Curiosity mutated the cat.
The Creeper, which premiered in the U.S. today in 1948, has a sinister, attention-getting poster, which you see above, but the film is long on atmosphere and short on frights. It concerns a doctor trying to develop bioluminescence in human organs so they're self lighting and will make surgery easier. You read that correctly. He wants to make organs glow just in case you need to be cut open one day. But instead he ends up, through his experiments on cats, creating a beast that slinks around mauling people to death. We never see an entire killer kitty—that wasn't in the budget it seems—but we do see
cheap stuffed animal paws fearsome razor sharp claws. Ultimately The Creeper is a mood movie—which is to say, if you're in the right mood it may work for you. A six-pack could help get you there. Something even more psychoactive could get you there faster. But even then we can't guarantee you'll enjoy it.
I told the waiter I left my cash in my room, and he said the drink was on him. What a nice guy!
Italian actress and television personality Gabriella Farinon relaxes with a cool refreshment in this beautiful shot taken in 1975 on a beach in Mo'orea, Îles de la Société, French Polynesia. Her movies include the vampire flick Et mourir de plaisir, aka Blood & Roses (discussed here), and 1960's Space Men, aka Assignment: Outer Space. We love this shot, not least because it reminds us of our local beach, luckily just a few blocks away. By the time you read this that's where we'll be.
Been through the desert on a horse with no name.
It isn't the horse that has no name in the spaghetti western Ciakmull—L'uomo della vendetta, but the man. Probably that's true in the song too, though we've never given it serious thought. In any case, above you see a beautiful Rodolfo Gasparri promotional poster for the movie, which premiered in Italy today in 1970. The title means “Ciakmull—Man of Revenge,” but it was changed to The Unholy Four for the movie's English language release.
And what's unholy about the four characters referenced by the title? They're all lunatics to one degree or another, freed from a mental asylum when it was burned down by robbers as a diversion during a gold heist. The four nutjobs band together and what follows is formless Cormac McCarthyesque wandering until Ciakmull, who's amnesiac hence nameless, collides with his former life.
He learns he's actually Chuck Mool, a real bad hombre, and he has some scores to settle. You're thinking, Mool? Like from the Reno Mools? The Abilene Mools? What the hell kind of last name is that? Well, it isn't his last name. But he has one of those, and when it's revealed everything finally becomes clear. Or at least it's clear only if he's been told the truth. But what if somebody has lied to him about his identity? Well then all bets are off.
On the whole Ciakmull—L'uomo della vendetta is a pretty good spaghetti western, but maybe not a good movie. That's okay, though. Spaghetti westerns aren't supposed to be good. If they were, they'd have called them strangozzi al tartufo nero westerns. The movie slots into the genre perfectly—which is to say it's filled with gunplay, dust, horses, hard sun, five o'clock shadows, and lots of steely eyed glares. Give it a watch with cheesiness foremost in your mind and you may like it.
Does anyone here know my name? I'm hoping it's something insanely cool, like Beardy McMustache.
Ciakmull? That's horrendous. My hair is way too good for me to have a name like that.
I ain't fuckin' around here, buddy. Stop calling me that.
Wait. What? You're my sister? Holy shitballs, girl—you fine!
I know you haven't touched a woman in years, so I'm just gonna rub up on you a little. There. Isn't that nice?
This amnesia thing has its advantages, because I feel totally fine about what's happening in my Wranglers right now.
Did you see that? That was not a brother-sister type greeting. You saw that, right?
Yeah, we all saw it. Hey, Ciakmull? Buddy? Those chaps ain't doing a good job hiding that pup tent you got going.
He looks nice but he's murder on his friends.
What's plein to see here is that the promo poster for the acclaimed French crime thriller Plein soleil is top quality. It was painted by Jean Mascii, who was born in Italy, but worked in France and became one of that country's most prolific and collected poster artists. We'll get back to him later. The movie is excellent. It's based on author Patricia Highsmith's The Talented Mr. Ripley and features her homicidal hustler character Tom Ripley, star of five novels, and one of literature's greatest psychopaths. Should you be inclined to give Plein soleil a screening you won't be disappointed. It premiered in France today in 1960.
They're hoping for a Cinemiracle.
The above photo shows two hopefuls backstage about to compete for the title of Miss Cinemiracle, which was bestowed by the Los Angeles Press Photographer's Association in a pageant held at the National Theatre. We have no idea who the two women are or what they did once taking the stage, but we do know what Cinemiracle was—a film projection system designed to compete with Cinerama. The winner of the Miss Cinemiracle title, who ended up being Merlene Marrow, gained a measure of recognition—always invaluable for those hoping to break into show business—and in return helped publicize the projection process at public appearances. You see Marrow doing exactly that below, standing next to other pageant winners and actor James Garner. Eventually, Cinerama bought the patents for Cinemiracle and brought the competing format to an end. Anyway, these images struck us and we wanted to share them. The one above was made today in 1958, and the one below was made later the same year.
Section of CIA trove of declassified material reveals research into psychic phenomena.
The Central Intelligence Agency has just published 800,000 formerly classified files online. The data dump, comprising some 13 million separate documents, isn't technically new. The files had been declassified years ago, but had only been available at the National Archives in Maryland, on only four computers tucked away at the back of the building which were accessible only during business hours. A freedom-of-information group called MuckRock sued the CIA and forced it to upload the collection, and the process took more than two years. Among the discoveries in the trove are documents related to the Stargate Project, which was tasked with examining psychic phenomena. A subset of those investigations involved celebrity paranormalist Uri Geller in 1973.
For those who don't know, Geller is a guy who used to show up on television programs like The Tonight Show and perform various paranormal tricks. His fame drew the roving gaze of the CIA, and they had him come in for a series of tests. No word on whether he had a choice in the matter. The testers ultimately reached the conclusion that Geller was legit, stating in the declassified dox that he had, “demonstrated his paranormal perceptual ability in a convincing and unambiguous manner.” How did they reach that conclusion? Through doubleblind experiments, one of which involved sealing Geller in a room, having a worker make a drawing, and asking Geller to recreate the drawing without having seen it. The images above and below show three of the original drawings, and Geller's eerily accurate renderings.
Geller made a nice career for himself finding hidden objects, bending spoons, and reproducing hidden sketches, but the really interesting part is he may have been a spy. In 2013, a BBC documentary titled The Secret Life of Uri Geller–Psychic Spy? claimed Geller worked for the CIA, was recruited by Mossad, and performed such missions as using only the power of his mind to erase floppy discs carried by KGB agents. Geller allegedly spent years in Mexico working as security for President José López Portillo, and the aforementioned documentary suggests he was also involved in some capacity in the famed Israeli hostage rescue in Entebbe, Uganda in 1976. It may take a few more CIA declassifications before we get to the bottom of all that.
Geller is still around at age seventy (looking about fifty, which might the most convincing evidence yet of his paranormal ability) and he still appears in news reports for antics such as purchasing Lamb Island, off the eastern coast of Scotland, which was the site of many witch trials, and for building a 12 foot-tall statue of a gorilla made from40,000 metal spoons. We aren't believers in psychic ability or any form of the paranormal. And we won't be unless we see evidence proving these realms exist. But the CIA said Geller was the real deal, so that's worth something. Of course, they also said Iraq had a nuclear weapons program, so maybe their opinion should be taken with a grain of salt. |
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