We have a tremendous amount of material on burlesque in Pulp Intl., yet it's been eight years since we put together a full collection of mid-century burlesque dancers, go-go girls, and strippers. That day has arrived again. Above and below you see some of the better shots we've run across of late, featuring the famous and the obscure, the restrained and the explicit, the domestic and the foreign, and the blonde, red, brown, and brunette. Where possible we've identified the performer, such as above—that's Carol Ryva, sometimes known as Carol Riva, Carole von Ryva, Cara Rive, et al, a French dancer who rose to fame during the early 1960s. Other familiar faces you'll see are Lilly Christine, Maria Tuxedo, Gay Dawn, Yvonne Ménard, and Virginia Bell.

The Follies Theater at 337 S. Main Street, Los Angeles, 1946.

Carol Jane, aka Spider Woman.

Debra Paget, who performed one of the most provocative screen dances ever in 1959's De indische grabmal.

Blaze Starr. We also saw her recently here.

This beautiful dust jacket for Mark Derby's The Tigress was painted by the very talented British artist John Rose for William Collins Sons & Co. in 1959. You'll remember that we already did a deep dive into Mark Derby's Womanhunt a bit ago. This is the same novel under its original title. Interesting, isn't it, that for U.S. readers the decision-makers at Ace Books thought Womanhunt was a better title? In any case, it's a very good novel. 

Above is the cover of the July 1967 issue of Continental Film Review, a magazine produced by London based Eurap Publishing, which updated readers on the latest developments in European cinema. This issue focuses on the Netherlands, Yugoslavia, Sweden, Greece, Italy, and the Cannes Film Festival.

Here's an interesting quote from within: An indication of Italy's mammoth production appeared in an Italian trade journal a few weeks back which listed thirty-eight films premiered in the previous few weeks, seventy-six ready to be premiered, twenty being edited, forty-four in production, twenty-one about to start shooting and thirty-one being prepared, making a total of 230 films (including, of course, co-productions).

You probably think that's an enormous number, but last year Italy released 356 films. It's amazing how much there is to see from other countries if you care to look, and that's largely what Continental Film Review was about. We have twenty-plus scans below, and other issues scattered here and there in places around the website.
 

The Swinging Barmaids, which splashed across U.S. screens for the first time this month in 1975, is one of those movies with a deliberately misleading title. Rather than the breezy erotic romp you'd expect, it's a thriller about an insane serial killer who stalks a group of waitresses working in a Los Angeles go-go bar. The problems commence when Dyanne Thorne (yes, she made movies aside from the Ilsa atrocities) is stabbed to death, setting off an inept police investigation, while the killer sets his crazy sights on more victims. He's the classic maladjusted loner you find in ’70s grindhouse filcks. You know the type: “You're the first girl I ever met that wasn't dirty underneath.” What type of woman wouldn't immediately leave town after hearing something like that? Answer: a woman in a bad movie.

Eventually, to facilitate his homicidal efforts, Mr. Maladjustment gets a job as a dishwasher at the bar. More killings eventually lead to the unveiling of this wolf in the fold, and his inevitable perforation with 12-gauge buckshot. That isn't a spoiler. His death is the entire point of the film. Well, that and boobs. But the problem is that this is all mounted perfunctorily, is poorly written, visually lackluster, narratively sluggish, and devoid of actorly charisma. In fact, if not for the nudity, you'd think The Swinging Barmaids was a minor television movie. The best thing going for it is the above poster art by the incomparable John Solie. Check, please.

Japanese actress Noriko Yamamoto was a minor player onscreen, but she's a major player on this log in a photo published in a 1980 issue of Heibon Punch. It's a nice image, part of an essay shot in Alaska, of all places. Here's what she said about it (so claimed the editors): “The clock is pointing to 11 PM, but the red sun is bright and beautiful. Anxiety crossed my mind as to whether I would be able to survive in this great outdoors. Fishing with a lure for the first time after setting up the tent. And the feeling of a king salmon coming into my hand. A river as wide as a lake. I don't know when bears will come out, making my heart flutter.” Despite her fears she survived, there were no bears, and most importantly she suffered no splinters. Bonus: she got to hold a humungous fish.

Any French publisher that needed top tier art could look to the Gourdon brothers Michel and Alain for a solution. Above you see the work of the younger Gourdon—Alain, also known as Aslan—on a set of covers for Éditions de l'Arabesque and its series Les Nymphes. These are all from 1956 and 1957, and despite the assorted author attributions, Georges Roques—credited with five of these novels—also published as Luis Della Roca, and possibly others of these persons as well.