The queen in her castle.
Jayne Mansfield lounges with one of her dogs and a teddy bear in a very pink promo photo made in 1966. Actually, there are two dogs here—look in the mirror and you'll see her famed chihuahua reflected there. Mansfield had a thing for pink. When she bought her 40-room mansion on Sunset Boulevard in L.A.'s Holmby Hills enclave she had the entire residence decorated in that color, with pink fluorescent lights, pink furs in the bathrooms, a pink heart-shaped bathtub, a fountain that cascaded pink champagne, and a pink heart-shaped swimming pool. All class, right? She dubbed the place the Pink Palace and it was one of Tinseltown's most famous landmarks. Mansfield died a year after the above photo was made, and the house changed hands several times before the wrecking ball came calling. Conservationists made efforts to save it, but of course this is L.A. we're talking about—change is the city's default setting. The house was razed in 2002
Live like a snake, die like a snake.
Kaidan hebi-onna is known in English as Snake Woman's Curse, or sometimes Ghost Story of the Snake Woman, and it stars Sachiko Kuwabara, who is also known as Yukiko Kuwabara, and whose last name is read informally as Kuwahara. These various designations have caused some confusion online, but whether Sachiko or Yukiko, or Kuwabara or Kuwahara, they're all the same woman. She doesn't star on the poster, though—that honor has been reserved for Yukie Kagawa, who's there because, well, we'll get to that.
The plot here involves a cruel landlord in feudal Japan who overworks a sharecropper couple, bringing about their untimely deaths by illness, causing them to linger as vengeful spirits who regularly pop up and scare the shit out of everyone. The couple's bereft daughter also soon dies, but by her own hand. The landlord and his son begin seeing spirits and snakes everywhere, and even begin to think those close to them are becoming snakes. Kagawa undergoes such a transformation, though only imagined by the villains, and that's why she's on the poster despite her secondary role in the film.
Kaidan hebi-onna is well shot and acted, but the blood efx are amateur hour and the snake sequences mainly consist of the poor creatures being thrown into shots from off-camera. Based on the highly polished look of the film, we'd have thought there was enough budget to get this stuff right, but what do we know? Maybe all the money went into the sets and costumes. Not frightening, but still an atmospheric evocation of classic revenant themes, Kaidan hebi-onna opened in Japan today in 1968. You can see an alternate poster for the film here, and as a double bonus, below are two promo photos of Kuwahara, or Kuwabara. Talk about cold blooded—she must be freezing inside and out. Japan
, Kaidan hebi-onna
, Snake Woman's Curse
, Ghost Story of the Snake Woman
, Yukiko Kuwabara
, Sachiko Kuwabara
, Yukie Kagawa
, poster art
, movie review
Look who's all grown up.
Above, a promotional photo of Iowa born actress Sue Lyon, who played Dolores Haze in the film version of Lolita. In Vladimir Nabokov's shocking but excellent book Haze was a pre-teen, but for Stanley Kubrick's 1962 adaptation the character was made into a teen. Lyon was fourteen at the time of shooting, but this nice shot was made when she was twenty-one in 1967. She went on to good parts in Night of the Iguana and Tony Rome, but managed only about a dozen cinematic roles before leaving movies behind for good in 1980.
She's an accident waiting to happen.
This photo shows American actress and iconic beauty Martha Vickers, who had been named Miss Danger Signal by the Motor Vehicle Bureau of California in order to publicize its anti-accident campaign. She was chosen because, apparently, she had never had a traffic mishap. At least until it was time to climb down off this traffic signal, we imagine. The shot was made in 1946.
Vaudeville goes to outer space.
Occasionally we deviate from pure pulp to share something amazing and this Japanese poster for Abbott and Costello Go to Mars falls into that category. Not that the movie is light years from pulp—it's sci-fi, sort of. The twist is that Abbott and Costello don't actually reach another planet—at least not at first. Instead they accidentally land in New Orleans during Mardi Gras and merely think they're on an alien world. Cute in parts, but stupid as hell in most, the movie is strongly Vaudeville influenced, with everything that term implies. Abbott and Costello Go to Mars, with the lovely Mari Blanchard co-starring in film and on poster, opened in Japan today in 1953.
Reiko Ike’s pelvic floor exercises pay off big time.
Onsen mimizu geisha, which premiered today in 1971, stars an eighteen-year-old Reiko Ike, along with Miki Sugimoto and Junkô Tôda, in yet another tale centered on a Japanese hot spring—Toi Onsen on the Izu Peninsula. So what is this about specifically? Basically, in order to avoid losing the family’s ancestral burial plot to debt collectors, Ike is forced to become a geisha, which turns out to be a natural choice because of the muscle control she has over her vagina. The extraordinarily pleasurable sensation she creates in there is akin to that of worms writhing. Yes, you read that right—worms. Warm ones, of course. And this is where the title of the movie comes from—Onsen mimizu geisha, or “hot springs earthworm geisha.” Do you need to know more? This is a classic, with a lot of goofy humor, plenty of bare skin and bikinis, a strong visual style from director Noribumi Suzuki, and some bizarrely aggressive octopi. And most importantly it has Ike, who’s radiant throughout, never more so than when flashing the viewer during the naughty opening credit montage. Maybe not for everybody, this one, but it certainly worked for us.
, Toei Company
, Onsen mimizu geisha
, Reiko Ike
, Miki Sugimoto
, Junkô Tôda
, Noribumi Suzuki
, poster art
, pinky violence
, movie review
Something in the hair.
This photo of Wanda Seux looks very retro, but she's actually one of the most contemporary femmes fatales we ever featured. Possibly the insane hair gives that away, as it's definitely not ’50s or ’60s style. Seux is a Paraguayan dancer and actress who worked mainly in Argentina and Mexico beginning in 1977 and last appearing onscreen as recently as 2013. We don't have a date on this great image, but she was born in 1948 and she looks pretty young here, so we'll say it was shot in her debut year 1977. That's right in the historical sweet spot for her discofied hair-do.
It's all about natural balance.
The Gaia theory suggests that organisms interact with the inorganic world to form a synergistic system that maintains the conditions for life on Earth. None of that has anything to do with Italian actress Gaia Germani, née Giovanna Giardina, save that she's part of that synergistic system, and a particularly good part. Her film career included the 1965 spy movie OSS 77—Operazione fior di loto, 1967's Bang Bang, and 1974's Seduzione coniugale, which we talked about here. This photo is from around 1970.
A Schell of her former self.
Above is our second issue of Colleción Idolos de Cine, this one featuring Austrian born actress Maria Schell. Not well known now, Schell was an acclaimed figure who won best actress at the 1954 Cannes Film Festival for Die Letzte Brücke and won the Volpi Cup for best actress at the 1956 Venice Film Festival for Gervaise. As we mentioned before, we found these obscure Idolos magazines in Barcelona a while back and grabbed six. You can see the previous issue we posted here. Spain
, Cannes Film Festival
, Venice Film Festival
, Colleción Idolos de Cine
, Die Letzte Brücke
, Maria Schell
, Horst Hächler
A widow gets back into the swing of things and trouble soon follows.
We're still working on that today-is-yesterday theory. Maybe we better explain. We planned to share both this and the ticket from the above post yesterday, but it's summer and our local beach is hopping and Saturday night we were at a party that didn't end until after sunrise, which pretty much wiped out Sunday for us, except for crawling to the aforementioned beach and sitting under a shady spot and oozing toxins until we were human again. But enough about us. Above you see a poster for 1981's roman porno production Mibōjin no shinshitsu, aka Widow's Bedroom, which we meant to share yesterday, on its premiere day. The movie deals with a smalltown inn proprietress whose husband has committed suicide, which is difficult enough to deal with, but whose situation is complicated by the arrival of two guests—a wheelchair bound novelist there to write a new book, and his beautiful nurse. The writer develops an obsession with the widow, the nurse likewise grows interested in a bit of same-sex fun, the widow's brother-in-law is determined to have her for himself, the dead husband reappears as a figment of the widow's imagination, and so on, in reliably complicated roman porno style, very much like the convoluted sentence we just wrote to describe the plot, and all in just about sixty minutes plus change—the movie, not the sentence. Mibōjin no shinshitsu stars Izumi Shima, who makes every one of those sixty-something minutes worthwhile. In order to make our writing worthwhile we've shared a rare promo image from the film below. Shima was one of Japan's top roman porno stars, and possibly the most beautiful, if one were inclined toward rankings. We've written about other movies of hers, which you can learn about by clicking here.
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