| Hollywoodland | Mar 21 2024 |
Strange ideas from the minds and lenses of mid-century promo photographers.
A while back we shared a promo photo of Glenn Ford and Gloria Grahame from 1953's The Big Heat that was meant to imply oral sex (it absolutely was, and you can see for yourself here). We commented on its weirdness, and noted that an actress would probably not be asked or made to pose that way today. The shot got us thinking about whether there were other kneeling promo shots from the mid-century era, and above you see two others from The Big Heat.
Below we have more such shots, and while none are as jarring as that previous promo, they're all interesting. We assumed there would be few if any featuring kneeling males, but we found a couple. Even so, there are probably scores more kneeling actresses that we missed. While many of shots took the form they did to highlight the criminal/victim themes in their parent films, you still have to wonder what else—consciously or not—was in the various photograhers' minds. Anyway, just some food for thought this lovely Thursday. Ready, set discuss!
Rod Taylor and Luciana Pauluzzi swap subordinate positions for 1967's Chuka.
Edmund O'Brien goes for the time honored hair grab on Marla English for 1954's Shield for Murder.
Marilyn Monroe swoons as Richard Widmark snarls for Don't Bother To Knock, 1952.
Inger Stevens and Terry Ann Ross for Cry Terror, an adaptation of a novel we talked about a few years ago.
Kim Hunter soothes an overheated Marlon Brando in a promo for 1951's A Streetcar Named Desire.
George Raft menaces Marlene Dietrich in the 1941 comedy Manpower.
As promos go, these actually make sense. They show three unidentified models mesmerized by vampire Christopher Lee for 1970's Taste the Blood of Dracula.
Glenn Ford is at it again, this time looming over Rita Hayworth for the 1946 classic Gilda.
Aldo Ray and Barbara Nichols for 1958's The Naked and the Dead.
This one shows less domination and more protectiveness, as Humphrey Bogart prepares to defend Ida Lupino for High Sierra, 1941.
Humphrey once more. Here he's with Lizabeth Scott for Dead Reckoning, 1947.
This shot shows Brazilian actress Fiorella Mari with an actor we can't identify in a movie we also can't identify.
Shelly Winters and Jack Palance climb the highest mountain together for I Died a Thousand Times, 1955.
As we said, we didn't find as many examples of kneeling men, but we found this gem—Cappucine makes a seat of director Blake Edwards on the set of The Pink Panther in 1963. Does this count, though? While Edwards is subordinate, he isn't kneeling and it really isn’t a legit promo.
And lastly, in a curious example, Hugo Haas seems to tell Cleo Moore to stay in a shot made for 1953's One Girl's Confession.
The Big HeatChukaShield for MurderDon't Bother To KnockCry TerrorStreetcar Named DesireManpowerTaste the Blood of DraculaGildaThe Naked and the DeadDead ReckoningI Died a Thousand TimesThe Pink PantherOne Girl's ConfessionRod TaylorLuciana PauluzziEdmund O'BrienMarla EnglishMarilyn MonroeRichard WidmarkInger StevensTerry Ann RossKim HunterMarlon BrandoGeorge RaftMarlene DietrichChristopher LeeRita HayworthAldo RayBarbara NicholsIda LupinoLizabeth ScottFiorella MariShelly WintersJack PalanceBlake EdwardsCappucineHugo HaasCleo Moorecinema
| Intl. Notebook | Sep 14 2021 |
No knock on Marilyn but even she's not worth this much to us.
In our continuing efforts to document all things Marilyn, we have today a unique piece of Monroe memorabilia, a life-sized cutout bearing her lovely form. This was made in 1953 as a promo for her drama Don't Bother To Knock, and it's fitting, because she was like cardboard in that flick. We already talked about it, and we think she was one of the greatest stars ever, and a brilliant actress too, but not in that particular psychological snakepit of a film. We're not being iconoclastic. We hate when people do that. We simply accept that every star has dim moments. Bogart made The Two Mrs. Carrolls. Michael Caine made The Hand. It happens.
But memorabilia often stands apart from performances. This cutout of Marilyn would have value no matter which film it was associated with—or even it were not associated with any film at all. You can buy it on Ebay but it'll cost you a small fortune—$1,750, plus shipping. For us, because of where we live, the latter would mean $520 additional mailing costs, plus $513 import fees, all to have the oceanfront humidity here wilt fragile Marilyn like she drank too many martinis. So as much as we'd love to have her, it's a hard no. Also, we never pay more for anything than it costs to fly to Thailand. You gotta have a code.
| Vintage Pulp | Jul 18 2021 |
Monroe finds herself in a room with no space to maneuver.
It says plenty about Don't Bother To Knock that we queued it up last night, popcorn and adult beverages in hand, having forgotten that we already watched it several years ago. That has less to do with the overall film than with Marilyn Monroe, but we'll get to that in a minute. The film was based on Charlotte Armstrong's Mischief, which was serialized in 1950 in Good Housekeeping magazine, and deals with a mentally disturbed babysitter watching over a child in a fancy New York City hotel suite. Along with Monroe it stars Richard Widmark and Anne Bancroft, with their three characters suffering respectively from derangement, detachment, and disillusionment—three ailments suggested to be caused or exacerbated by life in the big city. Widmark as a cynical single looking for easy action and Bancroft as a world weary torch singer working the hotel lounge don't have any problems a change in luck wouldn't solve, but the movie revolves around Monroe, who, thirteen credited roles into her career at this point, gets a chance to stretch her range as a nutty nanny in need of a lot more than just kind words to get back on the beam.
Monroe's performance in this heavy drama is tough to judge. To us it feels a bit flat, but contemporary reviewers generally liked it, and it's fair to say it helped her climb that last rung to the superstardom she'd reach a year later with Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. Watch that film and you'll see that, while Don't Bother To Knock asked her to stretch, it did so by requiring that she suppress her natural charisma. That's no easy trick for an actor, let alone someone as incandescent as her, and that, in short, is probably why we forgot we'd already watched the movie. Monroe was so big in her other performances that this flick went down the memory hole. Her iconic movies feel as if they could only have starred her. This one feels like it could have starred anyone. Monroe just isn't Monroe in it. But that probably means her performance is a success. Watching it afresh, we can tell you it's certainly a must for Marilyn fans, and will probably work for vintage film fans of all types. But those unschooled in the oldies might walk away from this effort thinking, Meh, I don't get all the Monroe fuss. But the fuss was appropriate and deserved. Don't Bother To Knock—not a film noir as labeled on many sites, by the way—premiered today in 1953.
New York CityGood HousekeepingDon't Bother To KnockRichard WidmarkAnne BancroftMarilyn MonroeElisha Cook Jr.Charlotte Armstrongposter artcinemamovie review
