If you think this is painful wait until I tell you all the kinky things I did with your husband.
T'as triché marquise was written by the pseudonymous author George Maxwell and published in 1953 as part of Editions le Condor's collection La Môme Double-Shot. This is of the more violent entries in the series and the cover art reflects that. What we like best about it is how effortless the blonde makes her submission hold on the brunette look. Not a single golden hair has moved. Many of these Double Shot covers were painted by Jean Salvetti, but this one is by Jacques Thibésart, also known as Nik, or more likely Mik (we're still avoiding changing all those old posts but we'll get around to it). In any case, fine work.
She may be a bald mouse but you're about to be a dead rat, buster.
This beautiful cover was painted for Éditions le Trotteur's popular collection Espions et Agents Secrets by Nik, aka Jacques Thibésart, and illustrates Yannick Williams', aka Jacques-Henri Juillet's 1953 thriller Mademoiselle “Chauve Souris”, aka Miss “Bat”. That's a lot of aka's, and here comes one more. In French souris means “mouse,” chauve means bald, and the two words together mean “bat”—literally “bald mouse.” French paperback titles can get a little slangy, though. Souris by itself—a mouse—is also a word for a pretty woman. So there could be another aka happening here in the form of a pun. We don't know. Jo, where are you? We need you on this one.
Oh, and there's one more thing, also aka related. Thibésart has an unusual signature—not visible on this cover but viewable here—in which the “N” could be read as a stylized “M.” Just lately, online experts are beginning to wonder if his signature should be read “Mik” instead of “Nik.” Thibésart is still around, but in classic French fashion refuses to discuss any of this despite several queries being floated his way. So for now we'll stick with Nik. Also, we don't want to change all our previous posts on this guy. We will update later if needed.
Sharks aren't the worst predators in the water.
Behold! The longest piece of promo art we've ever shared. The oceangoing thriller The Deep premiered in the U.S. in June 1977 as part of a wave of similar movies that came in the wake of Jaws (see what we did there, with the "wave" "wake" thing?). Yeah. So anyway, author Peter Benchley, who wrote the novels that spawned both films, used similar themes for the two, but switched the monster shark for human dangers in The Deep. The Japanese run of the film began today in 1977, and for once the Japanese title isn't something wildly different—they went with ザ・ディープ, which means “the deep.”
We've never seen anything like this poster before, and we doubt we will again. Also of note is that the movie, which was not considered top notch, was a massive hit thanks to a brilliant marketing campaign that saw co-star Jacqueline Bisset wardrobed in a white t-shirt that turned transparent when wet, such as during her opening diving scene in the warm Bahamian waters. Never had a pair of nipples made such a splash. A longtime a sex symbol and thirty-three years old when the The Deep appeared, the film made Bisset a legit superstar for the first time.
Human nature red in tooth and claw.
Whenever we have minimal expectations of a film and receive reasonable entertainment we're reminded why we like watching old movies so much. In The Leopard Man, for which you see a striking poster above, a New Mexico nightclub chanteuse loses her feline sidekick and it soon begins prowling the desert night and savaging women. Or is it? Pretty soon the singer and her manager begin to wonder if the leopard is being blamed for killings committed by someone—or something—else. The movie feels a bit like Cat People, which makes sense, because director Jacques Tourneur helmed both productions. But where Cat People was set in New York City, this one has a bordertown flavor, with flamenco music and various Mexican and Spanish characters in scattered roles, including Margo—just Margo—who was Spanish bandleader Xavier Cugat's niece. The solution to the mystery comes in a climax set against the town's creepy Spanish processions. It turns out the killer is a someone, not a something, but that was never truly in doubt. At just over an hour in length the movie is a pretty nice time killer, but the shorthand feel of it also shows why feature films tend to be longer. The Leopard Man premiered in the U.S. today in 1943.
Life on the edge of a razor.
Above is a Japanese poster for the 1972 blaxploitation film Come Back Charleston Blue, starring Godfrey Cambridge and Raymond St. Jacques as the Harlem detectives Gravedigger Jones and Coffin Ed Johnson. It was the sequel to the highly successful Cotton Comes to Harlem. The plot deals with the return of a legendary vigilante named Charleston Blue, who killed with a blue steel straight razor and is believed by some to be responsible for a series of recent slayings aimed at the local drug trade. He's supposed to be dead, but his casket is empty and his collection of razors has gone missing. Is he really back from beyond? You'll have to watch the movie to find out. Reviews were mixed, but there are some thrills and laughs, there's good location filming around Harlem and environs pre-gentrification, and the soundtrack by Quincy Jones and Donny Hathaway is a nice bonus. All-in-all, a middling effort, but certainly not a waste of time. Come Back Charleston Blue first played in Japan today in 1973.
Bill Edwards paperback art gains new recognition.
Bill Edwards' profile as a paperback illustrator has risen considerably in recent years. Like others who painted for sleaze imprints, it is not so much his technical ability that has garnered the attention, but rather the subject matter and a strong style. Edwards is a guy whose work you can identify in a millisecond. His women almost always have sharp cheekbones, ski jump noses, and a prominent beauty mark. The cover above for Rick Rand's New Girl in Town shows you all three elements up close. Edwards was also prolific like few other painters, which makes finding his work easy. Below are many more illustrations, some for novels with subject matter well beyond the pale, and we have other Edwards pieces populating Pulp Intl., for example here, here, and here.
French artist Jacques Puiseux spins us round with his pulp influenced vinyl art.
Pulp Intl. friend Jacques Puiseux staged a gallery show earlier this autumn and e-mailed over a few of his pulp influenced pieces. The exhibition was in Aup, a small town in the French Provence region, and Jacques' trompe l’œil pin-ups mimicking vinyl records managed to draw the attention of local feminists, female and male, who staged a protest concerning objectification of the female body. Apparently, they compared his work to the famed Pirelli calendars and said Jacques was almost as bad as Donald Trump.
Pulp Intl. would doubtless likewise be labeled sexist by these particular protesters, but of course a pulp history website could hardly fail to be. We would simply suggest that appreciation for beauty, whether male or female, is not inherently exploitative. While many feminists are actually quite vocal in their appreciation of beauty and sex (personified by the new wave of woman centered porn websites), a subset seem to believe that any male expression of appreciation for female beauty is a form of violence.
As we've mentioned before, since 99.9% of humans came into being through an act of sex, and sex drives our existence, biologically speaking, it follows that it's unreasonable to expect it not to be on people's minds much of the time. We're all wired that way. And since it is on people's minds, those thoughts and desires will be expressed. We agree there's a best and worst way to do it, and that a refusal should be taken at face value, and that safety is paramount, but we disagree that any expression of sexual interest by an unknown male toward a unknown female is wrong.
The feminist cause is right and moral, but we don't imagine the coming world as one in which women are never looked at by unknown men as sexual beings, or approached by unknown men at bars or parties, or complimented on their beauty by unknown men. We imagine a world in which those things happen and it goes only as far as a woman's consent permits. That might be no farther than a few exchanged words, but conversely it might go all the way to someone's bed for a lovely night. Doesn't that sound like a fun world?
Jacques, we think, would agree. He's a guy who thinks women are beautiful and that interest comes out in his art, as it has for countless other artists and always will. He also likes pulp, et voilà—what you get is what he's done above and below. We really like these, and they fit nicely into our conception of modern pulp. You can see a few more Puiseux pulp stylings at this link, and feel free to check out more of his record-like creations at the tumblr page Vinyles Passion.
Glenn Ford meddles in the governance of a sovereign nation. Why? Because he can.
Do you think RKO Pictures actually went to Honduras to film Appointment in Honduras? Of course not. The movie, which premiered in the U.S. today in 1953, was mostly filmed at the Los Angeles County Arboretum & Botanic Garden. Too bad. We were looking forward to seeing what Honduras looked like before it became the disaster we personally know so well, a place of perpetual instability that at times has owned the highest murder rate in the world. We used to go there often, and we were there during one of its periodic political upheavals. Airports closed, bus companies shut, smoke and chaos filled the streets. We were stuck there for a week, but it wasn't all bad. We left San Pedro Sula, drove to the coast, then hopped a ferry—still operating thankfully—to Roatán. If you have to be trapped in a paralyzed country, choose one of its islands. Ah... memories.
Was all of the above a digression? Well, let's come back to it. In Appointment in Honduras Glenn Ford plays a shady character trying to make his way upcountry for reasons unknown. He enlists the aid of a quartet of killers, and kidnaps a married couple to use as hostages. He shoots a few people, and shows no remorse when his henchmen do the same. Yet he's the good guy in this. Eventually we learn that he's bringing money into the country to give to counter-revolutionaries intent on restoring a deposed president to power. There's no discussion of whether he has the right to do this, nor does he have a plan to deal with the chaos that might result from causing widespread violence. He seems to think everything will work out fine, and he can go back to his ranch when all is done. Sound familiar?
Thus we come full circle to our intro, not a digression at all, but a description of the real world result of the type of mercenary entitlement depicted by the movie. Director Jacques Tourneur, who had done so much better with previous efforts like Out of the Past and Cat People, is way too good for this flat adventure tale. Ford is fine, as always, but Ann Sheridan—one of our favorite golden actresses—is just lost, stuck in a character whose motivations are never believable, or for that matter palatable. But even though Appointment in Honduras isn't a good movie, it's an excellent example of mild mid-century cultural propaganda, with its icy disregard for the lives and desires of dark foreigners. Emotions stripped bare, is what the poster proclaims. Motivations stripped bare might be more accurate.
Me and you Barbarella! High noon. Time to settle this once and for all!
As long as we're on movie posters today, above is a completely different type of femme fatale. The promo art, which we think is quite nice, is for the DVD release of CQ in Japan today in 2003. If you look closely at the right border of the art you can just make out the Japanese text. The movie was made by Roman Coppola, starred Jeremy Davies, Angela Lindvall, and Élodie Bouchez, and dealt with a struggling young director making a cheeseball sci-fi movie to pay the bills while working in his spare time on his beloved art film. That's Lindvall above as secret agent Dragonfly, a Barbarella-type space heroine, armed with vaguely organ-shaped retro-futuristic space gun. CQ premiered in 2002 and quickly achieved cult status, but writer-director Coppola has not had much opportunity to direct films since then, though he did helm a 2012 Bill Murray project called A Glimpse Inside the Mind of Charles Swan III. We haven't seen it, but we know it flopped pretty hard. We've talked about CQ before, so we won't reiterate except to say we loved it.
The headlines that mattered yesteryear.
1915—Claude Patents Neon Tube
French inventor Georges Claude patents the neon discharge tube, in which an inert gas is made to glow various colors through the introduction of an electrical current. His invention is immediately seized upon as a way to create eye catching advertising, and the neon sign
comes into existence to forever change the visual landscape of cities.
1937—Hughes Sets Air Record
Millionaire industrialist, film producer and aviator Howard Hughes sets a new air record by flying from Los Angeles, California to New York City in 7 hours, 28 minutes, 25 seconds. During his life he set multiple world air-speed records, for which he won many awards, including America's Congressional Gold Medal.
1967—Boston Strangler Convicted
Albert DeSalvo, the serial killer who became known as the Boston Strangler, is convicted of murder and other crimes and sentenced to life in prison. He serves initially in Bridgewater State Hospital, but he escapes and is recaptured. Afterward he is transferred to federal prison where six years later he is killed by an inmate or inmates unknown.
1950—The Great Brinks Robbery Occurs
In the U.S., eleven thieves steal more than $2 million from an armored car company's offices in Boston, Massachusetts. The skillful execution of the crime, with only a bare minimum of clues left at the scene, results in the robbery being billed as "the crime of the century." Despite this, all the members of the gang are later arrested.
1977—Gary Gilmore Is Executed
Convicted murderer Gary Gilmore is executed by a firing squad in Utah, ending a ten-year moratorium on Capital punishment in the United States. Gilmore's story is later turned into a 1979 novel entitled The Executioner's Song by Norman Mailer, and the book wins the Pulitzer Prize for literature.
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