Belted, booted, and perfectly jumpsuited.
French actress Michèle Mercier began her film career in 1952 and was still going strong as of 2013. Among her many films were Casanova 70
, Le plus vieux métier du monde
, aka The World's Oldest Profession
, and I tre volti della paura
, aka Black Sabbath
. We love this shot of her. She seems ready for anything—from dancing at the disco to dealing with danger. It dates from 1971.
Nuclear intrigue in North Africa.
Above, top notch cover art by Jacques Thibésart, aka Nik, for Jo Claver’s Bombe atomique à Port-Lyautey, which was published by Éditions Le Globe and Éditions Le Trotteur in 1956. Claver was aka Georges Claver-Peyre, and this particular book is Cold War intrigue and romance set in Morocco. See more fine Thibésart here and here.
, Éditions Le Globe
, Éditions Le Trotteur
, Bombe atomique à Port-Lyautey
, Jo Claver
, Georges Claver-Peyre
, Jacques Thibésart
, cover art
Big trouble in little Chinatown.
Du Sang dans le Champagne translates in English to Blood in the Champagne, and that's always something to avoid. This paperback dates from 1953 and is part of Éditions le Condor’s collection La Môme “Double Shot,” a series you shoud be getting to know pretty well, since we've recently shown you two other examples. George Maxwell wrote twenty-two books in this franchise in two years, which is simply amazing output, quality notwithstanding. In this one murder and mystery takes the hero Hope Travers to L.A.’s Chinatown, where she goes up against a shadowy organized crime sect. The cover art is by Salva, aka Jean Salvetti, as usual. See the other Double Shot covers by clicking the keywords Éditions le Condor just below.
She's worth her weight in any substance you choose.
Above, French actress Clio Goldsmith, photographed in 1975 for Vogue in an unidentified jungle, but most likely in Brazil, a suspicion that arises purely from the fact that Vogue had a well established Brazilian imprint. Goldsmith's film career lasted a mere six years, including 1982's hit sex comedy Le cadeau, aka The Gift, but she's still remembered as one of France's most beautiful cinematic exports.
Reiko Ike makes her presence felt in Rome.
Reiko Ike appears here in a bold photo published in the French magazine Euro Cinéma in November 1972. The text reads: A beautiful oriental pearl came to Rome for the turn Toei’s “A modern biography.” What does that mean? Unfortunately, our translating widget cannot clear that up. Seems as though the magazine is telling us Ike was sent to Rome earlier that year to promote either one of her own films, films by her studio Toei Company, or both. We found no references to anything made by Toei called A Modern Biography, and nothing that would translate to such. Our guess is the name refers to a Japanese film festival in Rome they put together or participated in. Anyone out there want to clear this up? You know the drill—firstname.lastname@example.org. Anyway, what’s extra cool about this magazine is that it also has Christina Lindberg on the cover and inside, plus Florinda Bolkan and Laura Antonelli. Euro Cinéma is good cinema.
, Toei Company
, Euro Cinéma
, Reiko Ike
, Christina Lindberg
, Laura Antonelli
, Florinda Bolkan
, pinky violence
I warned you two I could keep this up forever.
We shared an example from Éditions Le Condor’s series La Môme “Double Shot” back in September and today we have another—1953’s Les squelettes ne jouent pas au poker by George Maxwell. The translation of the title is rather funny—“skeletons don’t play poker.” The art, by Jean Salvetti once again, would seem to suggest otherwise.
If she ever gets her hands on the agent who talked her into that Frankenstein movie there’ll be hell to pay.
Above, French actress Yvonne Furneaux, née Elisabeth Yvonne Scarcherd, seen here in a set photo made when she was filming 1960's La dolce vita. After appearing in more than thirty films between 1952 and 1972, she made only one more movie—1984’s disastrously bad Frankenstein's Great Aunt Tillie—and has been retired ever since.
Yup, there's something here. Based on your personality I'm inclined to say it's a “666,” but no—they're just bruises.
A.A. Fair's Doublé de dupes, which is a translation of The Bigger They Come, was first published in hardback in 1939, appeared as a U.S. paperback from Pocket Books in 1952, and above in 1958. It's the first in a series starring sixty-something private investigator Bertha Cool and her pint-sized sidekick Donald Lam. Fair, aka Erle Stanley Gardner, had already made his Perry Mason series a success and the Cool/Lam shift got him out of the courtroom. In this one the protagonists attempt to serve divorce papers, but of course the seemingly simple task falls apart spectacularly, leaving a man dead and Lam under suspicion of having committed a serious crime. The British version's title—Lam to the Slaughter—gives that aspect of the story away immediately. The curious cover art you see here by Maurice Thomas was used on both the U.S. and French versions (a bit of a surprise considering the six year gap) and shows Lam checking out injuries on the femme fatale, who has been attacked by another character. General consensus online is that this series improved greatly after the first couple of entries.
Ironfinger is exactly what it sounds like—a low budget Bond. But a particularly entertaining one.
The poster above was made for the Japanese spy movie Hyappatsu hyakuchu, a title which translates to “100 shots in 100”—i.e. to be infallible—but which was called Ironfinger for its English language run. A French-Japanese Interpol agent is assigned to break up a gun smuggling ring led by a mystery man known as Le Bois. The James Bond-inspired action starts in France, ends in the Philippines, and is preposterous the entire distance between, which we suppose we might have expected from the studio that made Godzilla. Our favorite moment: Mie Hama is flying a small airplane and sees minor villain Huang Chang Ling making an escape by parachute. She decides the best solution to the problem is to run into him with the plane—cue buzzsaw sound effect and bucketful of red paint. That isn't even the most gruesome demise on display here, but the movie isn't particularly violent—it just reserves a few clever deaths for those who deserve them. It also has a pretty rocking burlesque number right in the middle, performed by Hatsui Tanooka, who you may remember we mentioned a few years ago. Hyappatsu hyakuchu premiered in Japan today in 1965, and a sequel—which for a movie this weird was needed beyond doubt—came a few years later. Japan
, Toho Company
, Hyappatsu hyakuchu
, Akira Takarada
, Mie Hama
, Hatsui Tanooka
, poster art
, movie review
The headlines that mattered yesteryear.
1935—Jury Finds Hauptmann Guilty
A jury in Flemington, New Jersey finds Bruno Hauptmann guilty of the 1932 kidnapping and murder of the Lindbergh baby, the son of Charles Lindbergh. Hauptmann is sentenced to death and executed in 1936. For decades, his widow Anna, fights to have his named cleared, claiming that Hauptmann did not commit the crime, and was instead a victim of prosecutorial misconduct, but her claims are ultimately dismissed in 1984 after the U.S. Supreme Court refuses to address the case.
1961—Soviets Launch Venus Probe
The U.S.S.R. launches the spacecraft Venera 1, equipped with scientific instruments to measure solar wind, micrometeorites, and cosmic radiation, towards planet Venus. The craft is the first modern planetary probe. Among its many achievements, it confirms the presence of solar wind in deep space, but overheats due to the failure of a sensor before its Venus mission is completed.
1994—Thieves Steal Munch Masterpiece
In Oslo, Norway, a pair of art thieves steal one of the world's best-known paintings, Edvard Munch's "The Scream," from a gallery in the Norwegian capital.
The two men take less than a minute to climb a ladder, smash through a window of the National Art Museum, and remove the painting from the wall with wire cutters. After a ransom demand the museum refuses to pay, police manage to locate the panting in May, and the two thieves, as well as two accomplices, are arrested.
1938—BBC Airs First Sci-Fi Program
BBC Television produces the first ever science fiction television program, an adaptation of a section of Czech writer Karel Capek's dark play R.U.R., aka, Rossum's Universal Robots. The robots in the play are not robots in the modern sense of machines, but rather are biological entities that can be mistaken for humans. Nevertheless, R.U.R. featured the first known usage of the term "robot".
It's easy. We have an uploader that makes it a snap. Use it to submit your art, text, header, and subhead. Your post can be funny, serious, or anything in between, as long as it's vintage pulp. You'll get a byline and experience the fleeting pride of free authorship. We'll edit your post for typos, but the rest is up to you. Click here
to give us your best shot.