Spanish art for Casa número 322 may have traveled far from home.
We already showed you a beautiful yellow French promo poster for 1954's Pushover, starring Fred MacMurray and Kim Novak. Above is a cool blue Spanish language promo. This piece is signed MCP, which is the imprimatur used by the Spanish artists Ramon Marti, Josep Clave, and Hernan Pico. So is this a Spanish poster? Well, most online sites say so. But the distributor for Mexico is listed as Columbia Films S.A., and you can see that graphic right on top of the poster. The S.A., by the way, stands for “sociedad anónima,” and is a corporate designation, kind of like Inc., or LLC. The movie's distribution company for Spain is on record as plain old Columbia Films, with no S.A., so we think this poster was used in Mexico, where the movie played as La casa número 322, “house number 322.” There's no exact Mexican release date known for it, but late 1955 is a safe bet. All that said, there's no way we can claim to be correct with 100% surety that this is a Mexican poster. We're extrapolating.
Columbia had distribution branches in various Latin American countries. Its Mexican hub was the most important because Mexico had the most developed Spanish film market in the world. Yes, more than Spain, which was still recovering from civil war. Though dubbed or subtitled versions of foreign movies were routinely shown in Mexico, locally produced flicks were about 20% more popular at the box office on average, according to a 1947 report circulated by the U.S. Consulate in Monterrey. In fact, Mexican films were the most popular in all Latin America, particularly Cuba. Even in Mexico City, where U.S. and European films were more popular than anywhere else in the country, Mexican films took up more than 40% of exhibition time—again as reported by the U.S. Consulate. Why was the consulate studying this? Just wait.
The Mexican movie market isn't as competitive today. The decline was due to three main factors: political pressure that forced Mexico to submit to so-called free trade in mass media, suspicious difficulties obtaining raw film stock from the U.S. for movie productions, and, of course, dirty business tactics by Stateside studios. So that's where the consulate came in—gathering intelligence for both the U.S. government and U.S. business interests. Armed with alarming data about local preferences for local product, U.S. studios forced Mexican exhibitors into “block booking” agreements, which meant that if cinemas wanted to exhibit the best Hollywood films they were also contractually obligated to take on the worst. This was repeated all over Latin America, and those bad films, which were more numerous than the good ones, ate up exhibition hours and kept Mexican films off screens. Pushover, at least, was one of Hollywood's better films.
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.
What does Rita Hayworth wear under her skirt? Advertising!
This unique Columbia Pictures promo image was made for Rita Hayworth's 1952 thriller Affair in Trinidad. It reunited Hayworth with co-star Glenn Ford in a attempt to recapture the magic of their 1946 blockbuster Gilda. It didn't quite work, but this promo is inspired.
She doesn't want to see, and you probably don't want her watching.
This poster of Sophia Loren was made to promote her drama Donna del fiume, aka The River Girl, and as we observed when we watched the movie a couple of years ago, only in cinema could backbreaking labor (harvesting rice by hand) make someone look like Loren. The poster is what we usually call panel length, which means it's about the right size to hang on a door, for instance in your bedroom. And Loren has exactly the facial expression you'd expect after seeing what you do in there. Columbia maybe should have manufactured a poster of her smiling and giving a thumbs up, but we love this promo anyway because even when Loren looks repulsed she looks great. Donna del fiume premiered today in 1954 and you can read what we wrote about it here.
Tarzan gets fully dressed but remains king of the naked jungle.
A killer ape, eh? Since the film opens with crocodiles getting axed to death—in real life—killer humans is more like it. Well, these old African wilderness flicks are never kind to animals, whether chimps, big cats, or what-have-you. The point of the croc massacre is that they're sick and have to be put down. Nobody can understand what's wrong with them, but it turns out an evil white scientist is testing bioweapons on wild animals. Wait—did we single him out as white? The distinction is meaningless, since everyone in the film is white or white-ish. That's what happens when deepest, darkest Africa is in reality a backlot in Simi Valley. In any case, someone needs to figure out why the crocs are sick. Who can do it? Why Jungle Jim, of course, played by Johnny Weissmuller. After years running around in a loincloth as Tarzan he got chubby enough that his body needed to be covered, so he slid into a new role as the khaki-garbed, pith-helmeted Jim, and for thirteen films did more or less the same things he did in twelve Tarzan films except yodel and swing on vines. The killer ape of the title is actually an ape/man hybrid, played by 7'7'' ex-wrestler Max Palmer in a pimp's fur coat and a putty nose. He lurches around uprooting trees like a one man lumber company and absorbing bullets with no ill effects. But though he's bulletproof, he isn't Weissmullerproof. Really, who among us can claim to be? The man subdued an entire continent, so certainly one pimped out wrestler isn't going to offer much resistance. Killer Ape is preposterous, but at least it has numerous unintentional laughs. It premiered in the U.S. today in 1953.
Stand back everyone. When I strip down to my fifteen-year-old Tarzan loincloth you don't want to be anywhere downwind, trust me.
So I had wardrobe trim this coat to expose my knees. Even during my wrestling days these sweet babies were my calling card.
Cut! Max, the camera is over here to your right. Can we get a hairdresser to trim the man-ape's bangs, please?
The name is Jungle Jim! Call me Junk Food Jim one more time! Just once! I dare you!
You know, even with this highly authentic costume I'm still not feeling very African. Maybe some cornrows.
It's about this long, give or take. I know that sounds like every man's dream, but size also brings real issues with it.
Hah hah, no, you're light as a feather, Carol. A feather that's been packing in high calorie Columbia Pictures catering for a few weeks, but still feather-like.
Just like you, Tarzan, I wear nothing under my costume. When I sit on your big ugly head those bristly things on your eyes will be my nuts.
She had every reason to smile.
This photo shows U.S. star Kim Novak and it appeared in the men's magazine Escapade in April 1957 in a feature titled “Love Goddess: 1957.” The idea was simply that Novak was the biggest new sex symbol of the year, and the spread featured a half dozen shots. The one above is the best of the bunch, in our opinion. Since Novak had become spectacularly famous in 1956, had won a Golden Globe in 1955, and had begun scoring important co-starring roles in 1954, and because we can assume her studio Columbia Pictures wouldn't have wanted her to be associated with a cheesecake magazine, we can safely guess the Escapade photos predate her 1954 Columbia contract. They probably came from some obscure photographer who suddenly realized he had valuable commodities in his archives. Escapade doesn't give a date, but we'd say Novak looks about twenty. In Hollywood, stardom means old photos will always come out unless preemptively purchased by the star themself. The same thing happened to Marilyn Monroe when she got famous, except her photos were early nudes. Novak's were early smiles.
Blinding curves ahead—proceed with caution.
American actress Patricia Blair strikes a bold pose on this 1959 Columbia Pictures promo for City of Fear, an atomic era thriller about an escaped convict in possession of what he thinks is a canister of heroin but which is really radioactive cobalt-60. We may circle back to this movie later. Blair appeared in a few films but her career was mostly on television, including recurring roles on The Rifleman and Yancy Derringer.
A theory of light and shade.
This beautiful promo photo of Romanian actress Tala Birell strikes a film noir note, but because her career flourished before the advent of the genre she never made a movie that can be fully classified as noir, though 1937’s She’s Dangerous comes close. Birell appeared in about forty films, first in Europe, then the U.S., and eventually moved back to Europe where she worked for the U.S. Government organizing theatrical productions in Germany, France, and Austria. You’re thinking what we’re thinking, right? She was totally a spy. Well, perhaps not, but she sure looks like one above. The shot was made for Columbia Pictures after she was signed as a contact player there in 1933.
They’re only being nice because they want to know where he bought his paisley sarong.
Above is the cover of an issue of V published today in 1947. Inside are various celeb and cinema features, a photo-comic written by the famed Maurice Dekobra, a back cover by Jean David, and plenty of photography, including the feature “Don Juan les pins,” or Don Juan of the Pines, whatever the hell that means. Also a bit of a mystery is the baffled looking cover star surrounded by six swooning women and a dog. He’s damnably familiar but we can’t quite place him, and since this is V we’re talking about, the editors have predictably failed to identify him. He’s a Columbia Pictures player, according to the caption, but that’s all we got. Anyone recognize him? Drop us a line. Thanks.
Update: So we have the answer from Nick, who informs us this is Arthur Lake, who played Dagwood in the U.S. television series Blondie, based on the famous comic strip. Thanks a million for that info. This also seems like a good time to thank not just Nick, but all Pulp Intl. readers. Your support and knowledge is essential to making this site work and we always appreciate it.
Update 2: Now it all becomes clear. A reader informs us that "Don Juan les pins" is a play on words. Juan-les-pins is a popular vacation spot in France, located on the Côte d'Azur between Nice and Cannes.
The headlines that mattered yesteryear.
1942—Ted Williams Enlists
Baseball player Ted Williams of the Boston Red Sox enlists in the United States Marine Corps, where he undergoes flight training and eventually serves as a flight instructor in Pensacola, Florida. The years he lost to World War II (and later another year to the Korean War) considerably diminished his career baseball statistics, but even so, he is indisputably one of greatest players in the history of the sport.
1924—Leopold and Loeb Murder Bobby Franks
Two wealthy University of Chicago students named Richard Loeb and Nathan Leopold, Jr. murder 14-year-old Bobby Franks, motivated by no other reason than to prove their intellectual superiority by committing a perfect crime. But the duo are caught and sentenced to life in prison. Their crime becomes known as a "thrill killing", and their story later inspires various works of art, including the 1929 play Rope by Patrick Hamilton, and Alfred Hitchcock's 1948 film of the same name.
1916—Rockwell's First Post Cover Appears
The Saturday Evening Post publishes Norman Rockwell's painting "Boy with Baby Carriage", marking the first time his work appears on the cover of that magazine. Rockwell would go to paint many covers for the Post, becoming indelibly linked with the publication. During his long career Rockwell would eventually paint more than four thousand pieces, the vast majority of which are not on public display due to private ownership and destruction by fire.
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