We made it to Marrakech and back. As always we kept our eyes open for pulp style material, but came up empty. The place is kind of pulp in itself, though, even without paperbacks and magazines to collect. We did see one thing—above is a restyled Casablanca poster hung in a nightspot we visited at which we saw a wild Moroccan jazz performance, with scantily clad Senegalese tribal drummers and dancers added for spice. It was insanely raucous and outrageously good.
The poster reminded us of all the vintage movies set fully or partly in Morocco. We’re talking, aside from the aforementioned, Hitchcock’s The Man Who Knew Too Much, Vincent Price’s The House of 1,000 Dolls, Morocco, Moon over Morocco, Outpost in Morocco, Road to Morocco, A Night in Casablanca, Our Man in Casablanca, Our Man in Marrakech, La môme vert de gris, Port Afrique, Tangier, The Woman from Tangier, Mission à Tanger, Billete para Tánger, (mid-century filmmakers really liked Tangier), Trapped in Tangiers, Casablanca nid d’espions, and many more.
These movies aren’t all good, and only a few were actually shot in Morocco, but they channel the unique vibe of the country just the same. Books we’ve talked about that pass through there include The Shocking Secret by Holly Roth, Seven Lies South by William P. McGivern, The Last Match by David Dodge, and—again—many more.
It was nice to return to Marrakech. Every once in a while you need to get away from Western culture. It’ll help you appreciate the amazing variety of people in the world, who, even so, are similar to you despite their different religions, dress, and interests. We feel refreshed and ready for the heat and fun of summer.
