|Femmes Fatales||Oct 9 2020|
I don't mean to smile, but it's just really fun being so much hotter than everyone else.
They say it takes a confident woman to wear a red dress. Tunisian born Italian actress Claudia Cardinale, with her giant smile, may even be overconfident. This shot is from the Japanese cinema and pop culture magazine Roadshow. We don't have a date on it, but figure around 1968, when Cardinale was at the height of her fame.
|Femmes Fatales||Sep 20 2020|
Now would be a good time for Tiffin to act her age.
You would think U.S. born actress Pamela Tiffin would be too old for dolls at this point in her life, but here she is hanging onto one for dear life at age twenty-seven in this promo photo from 1969. The session was originally staged for Playboy, and this image is a clean version of one that had a seam across it in the magazine. We think Tiffin should ditch the doll. It would be better for her. And us. But it's an amazing shot anyway, with the dark green grass and the curly, golden locks, possibly extensions or a wig. Tiffin popped up in some American films, but really made her mark in Italy, where she landed leading roles in films such as Amore mio, uccidimi!, aka Kill Me, My Love!, and Il vichingo venuto dal sud, aka The Blonde in the Blue Movie, aka No One Will Notice You're Naked. This is her third appearance on Pulp as a femme fatale due to the fact that she made unusually interesting photos. See two more examples here and here. She also appears at the bottom of this page.
ItalyPlayboyAmore miouccidimi!Kill MeMy Love!Il vichingo venuto dal sudThe Blonde in the Blue MovieNo One Will Notice You're NakedPamela Tiffin
|Vintage Pulp||Sep 18 2020|
Carmellini issues a Terrore alert.
Above are two brilliant Italian posters for Il terrore sul mondo painted by an artist who signed as Carmellini. That's all we know about him, but what great work. The movie is better known as The Creature Walks Among Us. Is it as good as the posters? Are you kidding? It doesn't even deserve posters.
|Vintage Pulp||Aug 28 2020|
Low rent Bond imitation withers in comparison to its inspiration.
By the time the mid-1960s rolled around movie studios the world over were imitating James Bond. The film Ypotron, aka Agente Logan - missione Ypotron, which was released in Italy today in 1966, was one of the worst imitators. It's inept in all aspects, especially the slide guitar soundtrack that might make you bury yourself somewhere in the back yard. But then you'd miss lines of dialogue like, “I don't specialize in making speeches. I use bullets.” Yes, it's bad. It is bad-good? That depends on you, since you'll have to provide all the actual entertainment. But good or bad we wanted to share the above Italian promo poster painted by Ezio Tarantelli, which is good-good. You can see more Tarantelli here, and another poster for Ypotron at the top of this post.
ItalyYpotronAgente Logan - missione YpotronYpotron - Final CountdownLuis DevillLuis DávilaGaia GermaniEzio Tarantelliposter artcinemamovie review
|Vintage Pulp||Jul 28 2020|
Laura Gemser is a nun that likes to have fun.
Laura Gemser made more than fifty films, most of them of the erotic variety, which means we'll probably never run out of material on her to share. Above you see a Spanish poster for the her nunsploitation flick Sor Emanuelle, which was originally released in Italy as Suor Emaunelle. We already talked about the movie, but we wanted to share this unusual promo. We've never gotten the nun thing, we suppose because we aren't Catholic, or even religious for that matter, but for some reason these movies represent a full sub-genre of ’70s cinema. That being the case, it was only a matter of time before Gemser got into the habit.
She starred in this with Swiss actress Mónica Zanchi, who's billed as Mónika Zanchi. The two would pair up again a year later in Emanuelle e gli ultimi cannibali, aka Emanuelle and the Last Cannibals, another spectacularly bad sexploitation epic. In addition to the poster, we also—just because we can—wanted to share a couple of magazine images of Gemser and Zanchi, and those are just below. They're super naked. You've been warned. But these are beautiful shots. After its Italian opening in 1977 Sor Emanuelle premiered in Spain today in 1978. Check out our original write-up on the film here.
SpainItalySwitzerlandSor EmanuelleSuro EmanuelleSister EmanuelleLaura GemserMónica ZanchiMónika Zanchinudityposter artcinemasexploitationnunsnudity
|Vintage Pulp||Jul 18 2020|
Welch makes world's most unwieldy laundry technique look like a good idea.
This piece of art has two things going for it—it was painted by Italian genius Enzo Nistri, and his painting is of Raquel Welch. We know—we had you already at Enzo. Consider Welch a bonus. El Verdugo is Spanish for “the executioner,” and this is a Spanish poster, despite the artist being Italian. The film is better known as 100 Rifles, a 1969 western about a revolutionary who knocks off a bank to fund the purchase of guns. It's counterculture all the way—Burt Reynolds plays a half-Native American named Yaqui Joe, Jim Brown co-stars as a lawman sent to recover the cash, Welch is also supposed to be Indian, and the subtext of revolution was meant to mirror the social unrest in the U.S. We wrote about it in detail here.
Welch takes a shower in the middle of the film, and you see below we have some promo images of that. A clothed shower? It's silly. Welch did not do nudity*, so the filmmakers should have simply left the scene out. Within the script the shower is an ambush so she can get some Mexican soldiers' guards down then ventilate them, but just set up the ambush a different way. Don't know about you, but if we came across someone showering clothed, whatever the circumstances, we'd immediately start looking over our shoulders because it's strange. That said, the photos are fun. They show what a huge sex symbol Welch was. Douse her with water and men got hot and bothered seeing hardly any skin at all. El Verdugo opened in Spain today in 1969.
*Regarding Welch nude scenes, there's a nude photo of a woman who resembles Welch and is believed by some to have been taken on a movie set. It's plausible in the sense that back then actors got naked for scenes that were nude in scripts but not meant to be shown nude or fully nude onscreen—such as here and here—but we doubt Welch did it.
|Femmes Fatales||Jul 15 2020|
In a field full of wildflowers she's the wildest of all.
Exotic Tina Aumont, whose father was French actor Jean-Pierre Aumont and mother was Dominican actress Maria Montez, built an appropriately international film career mainly in Italy and France. But surprisingly she was American. In fact, she was born in Hollywood. Some of her films include Salon Kitty, La principessa nuda, aka The Nude Princess, and Satyricon—the Gian Luigi Polidoro one, not the Fellini one. Though she did later star in Fellini's Casanova in 1976. The photo above is from 1975 and first appeared in Italian Playboy.
ItalyFranceDominican RepublicHollywoodSatyriconFellini's CasanovaIl Casanova di Federico FelliniSalon KittyLa principessa nudaThe Nude PrincessPlayboyTina AumontJean-Pierre AumontMaria MontezGian Luigi Polidoronudity
|Vintage Pulp||Jul 7 2020|
British publisher Corgi slips its readers some Mickeys.
A while ago we found a cover of Mickey Spillane's The Deep from Corgi Books and commented that we thought the art was by an Italian illustrator named Renato Fratini. That's now confirmed. Fratini painted covers from British publishers such as Corgi, Coronet, Hodder, and Pan, and was also prolific in the realm of magazine art and movie posters. Above and below we have more of his Corgi-Spillane covers, published during the mid-1960s. Fratini sometimes produced alternate versions of these, and other times Corgi changed the background colors for later editions, which means there are even more Fratini-Spillane pieces out there to be found. We also couldn't find a usable cover for Bloody Sunrise, starring his spy character Tiger Mann. Maybe we'll have better luck with that later. But as it stands, this is a nice little collection showcasing an interesting artist who we think deserves to be more widely known.
|Vintage Pulp||Jul 4 2020|
A change has come and it won't be denied.
Is there anything more glorious than a low budget, Philippine made, revolution themed, female centered action movie? Not much. There were many of the type produced, thanks to the clever folks at American International Pictures. The poster above was made for the Italian run of the studio's 1974 epic Savage Sisters, with Cheri Chaffaro, Gloria Hendry, and Rosanna Ortiz. We talked about it and you can see the U.S. posters and read what we wrote here.
ItalyAmerican International Pictures3 magnifiche canaglieSavage SistersCheri ChaffaroGloria HendryRosanna Ortizposter artcinemasexploitation
|Vintage Pulp||Jun 30 2020|
Don't worry. Lava's slow. I'm fast. I'll undress, we'll screw, then we'll run for our lives.
When we lived in Central America there were three volcanoes that loomed over our town. One's slope commenced just a few miles away and its peak dominated the sky to the south, but that one was extinct. The other two were not. One was dormant, but the other was active and smoked nonstop, with the prevailing wind carrying the ash away from town. This mountain occasionally shot out fountains of lava hundreds of feet high, which is a sight that will make you realize how insignificant you are the same way seeing a tornado or massive wave will. These mountains stood sentinel over many of our adventures, and were even involved in a few, including the time we visited a village on the extinct volcano and a mob of about thirty people beat a suspected thief to death.
Another time the top of that volcano started glowing red one night when we were hanging out at one of the local bars. We stood in the street with our drinks watching this spectacle, and pretty soon we could see flames around the mountain's peak. We thought we were seriously screwed. It was always understood that if that dead volcano ever came back to life there was nothing to do but kiss your ass goodbye. We decided to redouble our drinking. It turned out the flames were caused by a forest fire way up by the rim, but we gotta tell you, in those moments when we thought we might be toast, we got very efficiently hammered. It's a great memory, standing in that cobbled colonial lane, guzzling booze and waiting for the mountain to blow us all to hell.
Needless to say, for that reason the cover of 1952's The Angry Mountain by Hammond Innes sold us. The art is by Mitchell Hooks and it's close to his best work, we think. We didn't need to know anything about the book. We just wanted to see how the author used a volcano—specifically Vesuvius—in his tale, since they're a subject personal to us. The cover scene does occur in the narrative, though the couple involved aren't actually trying to have sex. Innes describes this lava lit encounter well. In fact we'd say it's described beyond the ability of even an artist as good as Hooks to capture, but that doesn't mean the book is top notch. Innes simply manages to make the most of his central gimmick.
The narrative deals with a man named Farrell who was tortured during World War II, losing his leg to a fascist doctor who amputated without anesthesia. A handful of years later Farrell is in Europe again, getting around on a prosthetic leg, when a series of events leads to him believing the doctor who tortured him is alive and living under a false identity. In trying to unravel this mystery he travels from Czechoslovakia, to Milan, to Naples, and finally to a villa at the foot of Vesuvius, along the way being pursued but having no idea why. He soon comes to understand that he's thought to be hiding or carrying something. But what? Why? And where? Where could he be carrying something valuable without his knowledge? Well, there's that hollow leg of his he let get out of his sight one night when he got blackout drunk...
That was a spoiler but since you probably don't have a volcano fetish you aren't going to seek out this novel, right? The main flaw with The Angry Mountain is that, ironically, there's not much heat. Farrell is an alcoholic and has PTSD, so he's not an easy protagonist to get behind. And his confusion about what's happening gives the first-person narrative the feel of going around in circles much of the time. And because this is a 1950s thriller, there's the mandatory love interest—or actually two—and that feels unrealistic when you're talking about a one-legged boozehound who has nightmares, cold sweats, and general stability problems. So the book, while evocative, is only partly successful. But those volcano scenes. We sure loved those.