|Vintage Pulp||Feb 1 2017|
We were dubious toward Santo when we learned of his movies, but after screening three features the guy has really grown on us. So last night we watched Santo contra los asesinos de otros mundos, which was known in English as Santo vs. The Killers from Other Worlds. You know the basics—Santo is a Mexican luchador who is also an ace international crimefighter. Which is convenient, because an evil mastermind named Malkosh is demanding a fortune in gold bars from the Mexican government or he'll unleash a monster on the populace. This terrifying blob, which in the script has been somehow derived from moon rocks, in reality is three guys huddled under a giant shammy. Doubtless bumping heads and asses while crabwalking under this thing, the poor guys move at about the same speed as traffic in central Mexico City. But no matter—the blob is a whiz at triangulation, and its victims are agility challenged. Whoever it chases inevitably finds himself or herself trapped and, after futilely heaving staplers and coffee cups, consumed down to a skeletal state.
The rest of the film tracks Santo's efforts to find Malkosh's partner Licur, who has imprisoned a Professor Bernstein, the only person on Earth who knows how to corral the lunar abomination busily scuttling across the landscape. Locating Licur involves a bit of Holmesian deduction, at which point Santo gains access to the top secret high security lair by scaling a low wall. In the subsequent fistfights, he's ferociously pounded about his face and semi-soft body, yet his gimp mask never slips and his whorehouse drapes never rip. Finally he squares off against Licur himself, who proves to be no match, and at that point all that's left is to defeat the beast, now about the size of a Winnebago. We'll leave the last bit as a surprise, but suffice to say Santo is always one step ahead. In the end, the film was another satisfying outing, with all the hallmarks of the series—terrible dialogue, poorly staged fights, truly atrocious acting, and a script conceived during a blinding mezcal bender. What's not to love? Queue it. Watch it. Santo contra los asesinos de otros mundos premiered in Mexico today in 1973.
You got anything to eat around here? I'm famished.
|Vintage Pulp||May 17 2016|
Jesus. I'm schvitzing like a pig. Shoulda packed my summer mask.
These cholesterol readings are off the charts. What the hell does this guy eat?
Santo! Do something!
Hey, don't look at me. I'm thoughtsucked.
|Vintage Pulp||Oct 11 2015|
|Vintage Pulp||May 13 2009|
It may seem like we have lucha libre on the brain, but this time we’re fulfilling our mission of commemorating film anniversaries. Santo vs. Las Lobas was released today in 1976—a rather amazing fact, because quality-wise it looks much older. In fact, if you dragged an original celluloid print behind a mule through all thirty-one Mexican states plus the Federal District, then transferred it to DVD, it would still look better than our copy. The plot concerns a werewolf clan’s new queen scheming to murder a local family, but that’s unimportant, really. The fights are the thing. They’re pure wrestling cheez whiz, with Santo in his dapper outfits headlocking his way up the werewolf food chain to the clan’s top dog, who he unceremoniously dumps off a cliff (cutaway to falling mannequin). We’re latecomers to the Santo phenomenon, but we can understand why so many are fond of this film and others in the series—they’re hilariously awful.
|Intl. Notebook||May 12 2009|
The story we posted not long ago about the Griddle Virgin got us thinking about how very pulp lucha libre is. You got a bunch of mean-as-snakes guys kicking the living shit out of each other. You got costumes, secret identities, and exotic tropical locales. And the whole enterprise, let’s face it, comes off a bit seedy. As if those elements weren’t pulp enough, we just discovered that lucha libre promo posters are often printed on low quality paper just like the old dime paperbacks. So today we have a selection of lucha libre art for your enjoyment. If it stimulates a burning desire to try the lucha lifestyle, you can start by getting a wrestling moniker of your own here. We tried it and ours are El Monkey Blanco and Chile Negro—seriously. Suddenly you can cut the racial tension in here with a knife.
|Mondo Bizarro||May 1 2009|
In the U.S. an image of the Virgin Mary has appeared on a griddle at the Las Palmas diner in Calexico, California. The likeness revealed itself as the griddle was cleaned, and since then more than a hundred people have made pilgrimages to the diner seeking a glimpse, forcing the owners to take the flattop out of service and set it up in a shrine converted from a storage room. Pulp Intl., as usual, is right on top of this stunning story, which means you don’t have to trek to the desert of California to see the miraculous image—we’ve posted it at left.
The image was examined and confirmed as the Virgin Mary by local religious authority Gerardo Fernandez, of Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church, and indeed many of the pilgrims, including a group of masked Mexican wrestlers in town for an exhibition match, claim there is a strong spiritual presence in the griddle, as well as a pervasive odor of French toast. One luchador named El Santo Negro even appeared to develop stigmata in the griddle's presence, but the substance turned out to be strawberry syrup he had spilled on his costume. A kitchen worker then showed him how to remove the stubborn stain with baking soda and warm water, and Santo proclaimed the combination “a miracle cleanser.”
At that point a luchador named Mr. Tempest took exception with Santo’s terminology, calling it disrespectful to the Griddle Virgin, and a free-for-all erupted in the shrine. In the end Tempest stopped Santo with a move he called “la presión baja”—or “the low pressure system”—and Santo fled screaming and cradling his balls. However, authorities fear Santo is merely bowed, not broken, and a schism is imminent in the Church of the Griddle Virgin. Pulp Intl. will keep you updated on this important ongoing story.