S*H*E* spies with her little eye a low rent plot to destroy the world.
We're doing the acronymic spy thing a third day in row because we have this amazing Japanese poster for the 1980 U.S. film S*H*E*. This shows that the idea of imitating James Bond's acronymic and numeric organizations continued for many years after the trend peaked during the 1960s. Cornelia Sharpe stars as a Security Hazards Expert who battles an international crime ring that threatens the global oil supply.
Interestingly, this was written by Roger Maibaum, who wrote more than a dozen Bond screenplays, including Dr. No, Goldfinger, and Licence To Kill. Which tells you that he may have been envisioning the same sort of high gloss action as in his Bond movies. But we're telling you that his vision was thwarted by a low budget, flat acting from Sharpe, less than compelling music, and the fact that this was a CBS television pilot. For now you can watch it on YouTube at this link—if you dare.
Those with sharp eyes, or Sharpe eyes, will have noticed that the poster was painted by Robert McGinnis. Since it was a made-for-television movie, the U.S. promo art obviously doesn't feature the cut away sections of costume that reveal breasts and midriff. Those subtractions make this piece rare and expensive. Our question immediately became whether the skin meant the international version of the movie had nudity. It actually does, briefly, but that's no help at all.
There are 777 ways to make a bad 007 movie.
Above you see a Mario de Berardinis poster painted for the Italian spy thriller Agente segreto 777 - Operazione Mistero, known in English merely as Secret Agent 777. The plot of this revolves around a doctor's cell regeneration process—i.e. he can bring people back to life, a miracle somehow made possible through nuclear physics. No, it didn't make sense to us either. But all you need to know is that basically Agent 777 is a low rent James Bond rip-off with a touch of updated Frankenstein mixed in.
It's as silly as it sounds, and has too many problems to enumerate, but we did enjoy the Beirut setting, and it rather amused us when a character spoke of going to the “Portuguese colonies to find his fortune.” Back then that meant going to Angola or Mozambique and extracting something of value that rightfully belonged to the local people—oil, antiquities, jewels, anything. The sequence struck us because at the time Agent 777 was extracting something of value from us—our patience. It premiered in Italy today in 1965.
Help! I'm trapped in this terrible film and I can't get out!
A dirty picture is worth a thousand words.
As long as we're on Italy today we might as well highlight this Renato Casaro poster for the giallo flick Le foto proibite di una signora per bene, aka The Forbidden Photos of a Lady Above Suspicion. We've dubbed the pose you see here the alpha, for both its theme of dominance and the A shape made by the legs of the foreground figure. Typically the figure is male, but not always. We put together a collection of paperbacks using this pose while ago.
In the film a bored housewife played by Dagmar Lassander is convinced by a sadistic stranger that her husband is a killer. In her desperation to protect her spouse she's manipulated into the stranger's bed, which results in him having explicit photographs with which to blackmail her. When Dagmar finally tells her husband and the police what's happening the evidence disappears, which makes Dagmar look mentally unstable. This seems to have been the plan all along, but who's behind it? Is the stranger working alone? Is Dagmar's husband or best friend involved?
With its leisurely pace and unconvoluted plot, the film lacks some giallo characteristics, but it's officially considered part of the genre. Because of its relative simplicity it avoids serious logical missteps, which is a worthy achievement considering how wacky these movies get. But while it's sure handed and reasonably entertaining, you can expend ninety minutes of life in better ways, which is why we don't recommend this except for giallo completists. Le foto proibite di una signora per bene premiered in Italy today in 1970.
Don't look now but you're soaking in it.
Above, an amazing Japanese poster for the French adult film Orgies en cuir noir, which was known in the U.S. as Water Blue. It starred Anna Lombardi, Annick Chatel, Elinia Martinelli, Eva Jaeger, and Minouche, and it's a ridiculously low budget effort about a bdsm sex cult ensconced in a Parisian basement. The group lures a woman into its circle and, after feeding her what appears to be ecstasy, introduces her to assorted carnal variations. The movie is notable for its pansexual content, including gay and transexual scenes. You can find it online if you care to, but we don't recommend it—the copy we saw looks like it spent months soaking in the enema water that features prominently in the plot. Just enjoy the poster art. The movie premiered in France today in 1984.
She made him an offer he couldn't refuse.
Above is a nice piece of promo art for Hot Cars, an obscure little flick some people classify as a film noir, but which we think of as a basic crime melodrama. A Culver City used car salesman's lofty ethics get him fired from a used car lot, but hired at another whose owner is looking for employees with “honest faces and honest souls to go along with them.” But there's more than meets the eye going on here. There's a stolen car ring working Southern California and our honest John begins to suspect it's his new employer's lot the autos are being funneled through. His suspicions are quickly confirmed—his boss wanted an honest face as a front for the crooked lot. Honest boy quits in a huff, but with a sick son and medical bills piling up he has to go crawling back, and from there he just gets in deeper and deeper. The film is nothing special, but statuesque Joi Lansing plays the owner's femme fatale wife, and she's the real heat in Hot Cars. At just an hour in length the movie comes with a discount in time expenditure, so with Lansing as part of the package it's a deal you shouldn't refuse. It premiered in the U.S. today in 1956.
Hi, I'm Joi. I see you've noticed I'm sizzling hot.
You'd give your right arm to have a woman as hot as me and we both know it.
You realize the drink is just going to make me look even hotter, right?
If you think I'm smoking hot at twenty-six, just wait until I hit my late thirties.
That heat in your chest isn't indigestion. It's me. It's my hotness.
I'm hot, but often quite approachable too. Like now.
I'm going to ruin your life, but hotly, so you'll mostly love it.
This is your screenwriter's brain on drugs.
The poster you see above is the U.S. promo for the b-flick Free Grass, aka Scream Free!, aka Street Drugs, which starred Richard Beymer and Lana Wood in a drug drenched counterculture road adventure. We won't mince words—this movie is godawful. It's painful to admit, since we're pro-counterculture guys here at Pulp Intl., but in terms of writing, editing, directing, scoring, and especially acting, this movie is off-the-charts terrible. Basically a hippie runs afoul of the law when a cop is killed during a Mexican drug deal, and has to evade narcotics agents while trying to keep his flower child girlfriend safe. Besides Beymer and Wood there are other semi-famous performers here, such as Casey Kasem and Russ Tamblyn, and it's amazing any of them ever showed their faces in public again after this turkey hit cinemas.
Like most drug movies, Free Grass borrows Jefferson Airplane's concert lighting for drug trips and club sequences, but just when the hypnovisuals start to dazzle your brain terrible dialogue rudely ejects you back into reality. And to think, four guys were needed to write the movie. We can only assume they took the title literally and wrote the entire script while ripping bong hits of Mexican weed. There's one draw here—the uniquely beautiful Wood, who would reach her high water mark, cinematically speaking, as Plenty O'Toole in the 1971 James Bond movie Diamonds Are Forever. Here, unfortunately, she reaches her low water mark wearing a cheap ash blonde wig and spending the last few reels of screen time tied to a bed.
At one point Beymer, besieged by psychedelic lights and seriously bummer vibes, puts his fists to his temples and reels as if his head might explode. That's how we felt: “Why? Why? Why is this happening to us?” We count ourselves lucky not to have flung ourselves off our balcony before the credits rolled. But like all bad trips this one finally ended, and we hope to make it through our remaining years without flashbacks. Free Grass premiered in the U.S. in Detroit, Michigan today in 1969—and the city still hasn't recovered. But at least Lana is here to remind us there's goodness and beauty in the world. Choose life.
When the Belle rings it's time for everyone to get it up.
Above is a Japanese poster and a pamphlet front for the French sexploitation flick Laure, aka Forever Emmanuelle, which premiered in Japan today in 1976 after opening in Italy nine months earlier. We watched it, and first of all the movie looks great. It's crisp, bright, and colorful—three things you really want when Annie Belle is the star. We gather that the palpably high budget was due to an infusion of big studio money from Twentieth Century Fox via Cinecittà Studios, as they tried to cash in on the 1970s sexploitation phenomenon. None of this means the movie is good.
Emmanuelle flicks are chaste and atmospheric, more romance than raunch, and Laure is no exception. Belle plays a highly sexed minister's daughter running wild in the Philippines, from Manila to the jungly outer reaches. There's a plot having to do with searching for the isolated Mara tribe, but the movie is more a series of swinger lifestyle lectures and sexualized vignettes, such as when Belle drops her skirt so she can walk around in public wearing nothing but a shirt that flashes her muff, and when she gets laid in a bamboo hut that's being dragged through the woods by a dozen Filipino workers. She's wanted by everyone whose path she crosses, but it's Al Cliver who piques her interest, thanks to his unwillingness to attempt caging her or cooling her hot blood. At one point he announces, “Jealousy is an obscenity.” It takes quite a man to watch the woman he loves have explosive orgasms with every stranger who happens along.
Of special note is a co-starring turn from Thai/French personality Emmanuelle Arsan, who in 1959 anonymously published the book Emmanuelle, source of the film franchise. Or at least she was thought for years to have been responsible for the book. Her husband Louis-Jacques Rollet-Andriane is now considered the author. Arsan was also credited with directing Laure, or at least co-directing it, but that was Rollet-Andriane again, whose name isn't on the film for reasons too involved to go into here. Well, it's definitely Arsan playing the role of Myrte, adding to the film's visual allure by looking great naked at age forty-four. She can't act, but she's good at giving wise looks and secretive smiles. She's easy to buy as the source—or at least inspiration—for Emmanuelle, because she's a very sexy woman. Despite all the film's beauty, we aren't going so far as to recommend it generally, but for lovers of globetrotting softcore or fans of Annie Belle it's mandatory.
Connie Stevens goes up against international drug dealers without a single hair slipping out of place.
This one we watched entirely because of the promo art. In Scorchy Connie Stevens stars as a Seattle undercover cop assigned to bust a Rome-based drug ring. Her name isn't Scorchy—it's actually Jackie Parker, and this Seattleite is sort of tough-cute, a flirt and an eyelash batter, someone prone to making sexual quips and comical faces. None of this seems to us as though it would be conducive to convincing international drug dealers that she's a charter pilot willing to fly shady cargoes, but whatever—it's in the script, so they buy it. Stevens maneuvers her way into flying a load of heroin and, theoretically, this will be the basis of a big drug bust. Does it work out that way? We aren't saying.
Scorchy came from low budget studio American International, but they're serious with this effort, aiming for French Connection grit combined with a bit of b-movie cheese. But lofty aspirations aside, you know going into any American International movie that it's very likely to be bad, even if it's one they bought from another production company, as was the case here. And Scorchy delivers the badness in spades—the fight scenes and shootouts are lame, the acting is merely adequate, and the plot doesn't offer much in the way of twists and turns. What does offer some twists and turns is the centerpiece car chase. It's almost good enough to redeem the movie, and as a bonus it also shows a lot of Seattle scenery.
Scorchy also may be worth watching for another reason—the decors. Check the screenshots below. The set designers really went to town. Stevens' living room is especially noteworthy, with its flowered sofa, driftwood art, and random acoustic guitar leaning against the wall just in case she wants to get groovy. We'll throw Stevens herself in there as another of the film's assets. She looks excellent at thirty-eight, even with silver candyfloss hair and mascara that looks like it was applied with a hot glue gun. Like the movie, she's a bit ridiculous, but she's fun to watch as she makes the bad guys regret ever coming to the Emerald City. Scorchy premiered in the U.S. today in 1976.
Always make sure your sexploitation is heated to the proper temperature.
“Eros center,” or sometimes “eroscenter,” is a term used in Germany to refer to a street or building where sex is for sale. Every major city has one. We wrote about Cologne's eros center Pascha a long while back. In Hamburg, the eros center is a street known as the Herbertstraße, which is where some of the action in Eros-Center Hamburg takes place.
Gunter Hendel directed and stars as a journalist who arrives in town to interview eros center prostitutes just as a knife killer begins terrorizing the district. We know even before we see Hendel practicing karate that he's going to be the hero here. But Eros-Center Hamburg is supposed to be a sexploitation movie, so how does it fare on that front? Sadly, not well.
We remember reading somewhere that Hendel clashed with his producer over Eros-Center's sexual content. He managed to keep it down to a few bare bosoms and asses, which suggests he saw the film not as sexploitation but as a vehicle to promote himself as a serious director, a screen star, or both. He must have been smoking something imported from Amsterdam, because he's a terrible director and a charisma challenged actor.
The truth is the only reason we watched this movie is because the angel who goes by the earthly name Doris Arden is in it, but she makes a criminally early exit thanks to the slasher and our attention bled out at that point too. There are some hilarious moments, but overall we suggest you save yourself the time. Eros-Center Hamburg premiered in West Germany today in 1969.
Hey Gunter, can I get some lip balm for this scene? I'm all dried out.
Don't worry, sweetie. I've got extra. Just lean down here and pucker up.
His martial arts are lethal and his wardrobe is killer.
Above is a poster for the Hong Kong actioner Quan Ji, aka Duel of Fists, which, based on the placement of the English text, you'd actually expect to be called Duel of Nuts. Or are we the only ones seeing that? Anyway, what you get here is the story of a nerdy engineer slash ace martial artist who learns from his ailing father that he has a long lost older brother, the result of a whirlwind affair with a Thai girl. Sent to Bangkok to find his sibling, geek boy eventually discovers him in a fighting ring. A series of circumstances that begins with big brother beating the local crime syndicate's champion brings the wrath of the bad guys, and the brothers have no choice but to go medieval on the entire mob.
This movie is worth watching for two reasons. First, some of the fighting is Muay Thai, which was obscure to westerners back then and makes Quan Ji one of the first films to showcase that particular discipline. And second, David Chang plays the unsophisticated younger brother while wearing a series of gaudy outfits that you'd absolutely love to have for your next ’70s party. Chang has made more than a hundred movies and was still active just a couple of years ago, but we doubt he ever surpassed the discofied wardrobe he wore here. Despite the Rick James flavor he brings to the party we'd describe the movie as merely adequate. But it did make us want to listen to "Super Freak." Quan ji premiered in Hong Kong today in 1971.
I've met so many girls. Then I come to Bangkok and meet one who sees as much value in primary colors as I do. What are the odds?
By the way in Hong Kong one of our official languages is English, and in English Bangkok sounds like... Well, I'll explain it in detail later.
I told her what Bangkok sounds like and she loved it. Total keeper.
I know every dojo in the Far East and I've never heard of your Studio 54.
You wouldn't shoot the best electric slider in all of Thailand, would you?
I'm going to demonstrate this one more time. It's called the hustle and I learned it in the East Village.
Everybody was Muay Thai fightin'.... HUAH! Those kids were fast as lightning...
You better run, losers and haters! Come back when you learn how to dress!
Depending on the opponent's particular style and what the deejay is spinning these dance-offs can get pretty violent.
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