And long story short, that's why my senior class voted me most likely to be kidnapped. So really, this comes as no surprise.
Above is an uncredited 1961 cover from Corgi Books for Lucille Fletcher's Blindfold. If her name sounds familiar it may because she also wrote the classic Sorry, Wrong Number. Her main character here isn't kidnapped. He's a psychiatrist who's flown top secret to treat a patient whose identity and location he's not allowed to learn. It's actually the patient who may be the kidnapping victim, though the doc is in danger too, from mere association. When events force him to try locating his mystery patient again, despite having been blindfolded each time he was taken to see him, the doc's keen senses come into play—everything from his internal clock to the feel of the ground beneath his shoes to his sense of smell.
Is he able to locate a distant place he's never seen with his own eyes? Well, it wouldn't much of a thriller if he couldn't. We don't know if this is the first time this gimmick was used in a novel, but it's a pretty cool plot contrivance. Interestingly, despite the Cold War seriousness of the novel and the intense menace of the paperback's cover art, the story was transformed into one of those insouciant little thrillers peculiar to the 1960s, along the lines of Charade or Arabesque. It was also called Blindfold and it starred Rock Hudson and Claudia Cardinale. In fact, see below...
Hit novel Blindfold returns as a movie vehicle for Rock Hudson.
Rock Hudson was in the decline phase of his cinema career when he made Blindfold, and was just about to move into television, where he would score a huge hit with the cop show McMillan & Wife. But this film shows him in solid form. As in the novel, it all starts when his psychiatrist character is asked by a government agent to treat a mentally broken scientist in total secrecy, which Hudson reluctantly agrees to do, and is conducted to an isolated house while blindfolded. Days later he's run into—literally—by the sick man's sister Claudia Cardinale, who believes her brother has been kidnapped. Was the man who asked Hudson for help really with the government? Or did he merely want to unlock a secret hidden in the scientist's brain? When another agent appears and tells him this is precisely the case, Hudson and Cardinale have no idea who to believe. It begins to look like the scientist is being held against his will. If Hudson and Cardinale hope to rescue him, they need to pinpoint his location even though Hudson was blindfolded every time he was taken there.
As in the novel this is the central gimmick, and it seems an impossible task, but Cardinale convinces Hudson he can find this isolated house. Obviously, this section is handled in less detail than in the novel. Hudson estimates how long the flight was, eliminating impossible flight plans, learns where migrating geese fly south, and remembers what he heard during the car journeys—a body of water, a rickety bridge, a strange type of boat, and a church choir. It was a fun idea in the book and it's a fun idea on the screen too. In fact, it must have made an impression, because aspects of it were directly borrowed by Robert Redford for his 1992 comedic thriller Sneakers. Hudson and Cardinale, first as adversaries and later as budding romantic partners, try to unravel the where what why when and who, while shamelessly flirting with each other. As we said in the previous post, think of Charade or Arabesque. Blindfold isn't executed as well as those films, but it's certainly a nice little trifle, and it's worth watching. Anything with Cardinale is. And Rock ain't so bad either. The film premiered in the U.S. today in 1966.
If you invite one into your house it's your own fault what happens.
Here's yet another wonderful Japanese poster for an English language film, this time for Mylène Demongeot's lightweight comedy Upstairs and Downstairs, or “above and below,” as the poster calls it. We enjoyed this one. In London a newlywed couple run into problems when they decide to hire domestic help. After the likes of Claudia Cardinale, Joan Sims, and Joan Hickson bring chaos to the household (sharp-eyed viewers may also recognize nude model Marie Devereux), Demongeot is finally summoned to restore order. While she's an efficient domestic, she's a complication in other areas. Which ones? Those that provide blood flow to male loins.
This is Bardotesque/Monroesque screwball craziness fueled by double entendre and pratfalls, rather than the types of films we usually feature on Pulp Intl., but we couldn't resist this brilliant Japanese promo. Nor Demongeot, for that matter, who's one of our favorite French stars. She does good work here in a genre we've come to think of as oops-I-didn't-mean-to-turn-you-on. Below are some promo photos from the film, including an interesting shot of James Robertson in the Messerschmitt KR200 he drives in one scene. Upstairs and Downstairs opened in the west in late 1959 and premiered in Japan today in 1960.
In the Swede Swede summertime.
It's been a while since we've had a legit nudie magazine on the site, but we don't want to neglect them because they figure strongly in pulp fiction. How many novels, for example, feature actress wannabes who do a little nude modeling, or have illicit rolls of negatives floating around that need to be retrieved from shady cartels? The Big Sleep—both the written and filmed version—is probably one of the most famous examples. And who can forget the fact that magazine posing boosted the careers of actresses like Marilyn Monroe and Christina Lindberg?
So above and below you'll find some scans from Kavalkad, a Swedish publication that ran from 1949 to 1968, with today's example dating from 1965. It's quaint by modern standards, like something you'd tease your grandpa with after finding it in his garage, but it was quite racy for its time, with kvinnor (women) showing frontal nudity years before U.S. magazines dared to follow suit. Sweden's more permissive attitude about such matters made for an active underground for Swedish porn in the U.S. If you got caught selling it that was your ass—but if you could get away with it there was plenty of money to be made.
Inside this issue you'll also find some non-nude photos of Brigitte Bardot and Claudia Cardinale. Kavalkad, like many magazines of its ilk, began with more of a focus on celebrities, and in fact there were numerous issues with Marilyn Monroe on the cover, as well as other mainstream stars like Debra Paget, Peggie Castle, and Rossana Podesta. All the issues are collector's items these days, though not exorbitantly priced ones—at least not yet. We may revisit Kavalkad later. In the meantime we have twenty-plus scans below.
Getting down to the fine details.
Two issues of Adam to share—one from Australia and one from the U.S.—proved too much work for one day, so we posted Aussie Adam yesterday, and today we’re on to the American Adam. These magazines have no relationship to each other apart from coincidentally sharing a name. U.S. Adam relies on photo covers rather than painted art, shows a dedication to cheesecake photography that far outstrips its Australian cousin, and also has less fiction. However, what fiction it does offer extends beyond Aussie Adam’s adventure and crime focus, such as the short piece from counterculture icon Harlan Ellison called, “The Late Great Arnie Draper.” We’ve scanned and shared the entirety of that below if you’re in a reading mood.
The striking cover model here goes by the name Lorrie Lewis, and inside you get burlesque dancer Sophie Rieu, who performed for years at the nightclub Le Sexy in Paris, legendary jazzman Charles Mingus, and many celebs such as Jane Fonda, Claudia Cardinale, Sharon Tate, and the Rolling Stones. There’s also a feature on the Dean Martin movie Murderer’s Row, with Ann-Margret doing a little dancing, and blonde stunner Camilla Sparv demonstrating how to properly rock a striped crop-top. We managed to put up more than forty scans, which makes this an ideal timewaster for a Monday. Enjoy.
The year’s longest day in a season that’s always too short.
In some places the weather is warm every day, pretty much, but in others, warmth is a fleeting gift. Regardless of where you are, we are officially at the beginning of summer, with the solstice arriving today or tomorrow, depending on your time zone. So we’ve decided to pull together some summery promo pix. These are from Japanese magazines and feature stars who were most famous during the 1950s and 1960s, including Raquel Welch, Ursula Andress, Yvette Mimieux, and others. You can similar summer collections from previous years here and here.
The dream pairing of Bardot and Cardinale finally happened. If only the results had been as wonderful as these posters.
Above are two Japanese door length posters for 1971’s Les pétroleuses, aka Frenchie King, which starred French sex symbol Brigitte Bardot and Italian counterpart Claudia Cardinale in what was considered a dream paring. Bardot had said that Cardinale was the one actress in the world that was destined to replace her. She even made a quip of it, saying, “After B.B. comes C.C., no?” Both were well established by the time they appeared in Les pétroleuses, both thirty something, both looking good. Many of the reviews we read said that Cardinale was not the same class of beauty as Bardot. Gotta say, we think those people are blind. Cardinale has an earthy, smoldering thing going on that works particularly well in this sweaty, shot-in-Spain production. She and Bardot play rivals in the old west, with B.B. as the leader of a gang of nomadic girl bandits, and C.C. as a townie with a quartet of virile brothers. Bardot ends up gaining ownership of a local ranch, but Cardinale learns that there’s a fortune in oil under the land. Scheming, slapstick and shootouts ensue, as they ride a lot, glare a lot, Cardinale sings a terrible song, Bardot bares her opposite-of-terrible backside, and the two have a bodice ripping fistfight. But dream pairing or no, the movie received tepid reviews, and deservedly so. It’s intermittently funny but mostly clumsy. On the other hand, we could look at Cardinale all day, so that’s something.
Losing herself to find herself.
Above, a National Star Chronicle published March 16, 1964, with cover star Claudia Cardinale. Born in Tunisia, Cardinale’s career was launched in 1957 when at age eighteen she won the title Most Beautiful Girl in Tunisia. The prize was a trip to Venice. She didn't speak one word of Italian and knew little about Italy, but she was spotted by some film producers and the rest, as they say, is history.
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