From chieftain's daughter to chief attraction.
We're back to burlesque today with a photo of the famed Crazy Horse dancer who went by the name of Miss Zabou. Born and raised in Mali, she was the daughter of a village chieftain, and at sixteen became a member of Mali's le Troupe de Ballet. After a few years she went to Dakar, Senegal for more prosaic work as a hairdresser, and from there moved on to Paris to do the same. Upon visiting Crazy Horse she became interested once more in dance, which we imagine says a lot about either how thrilling Crazy Horse extravaganzas were, or how much more money Parisian burlesqueteers made than Malian ballerinas. In any case, she jettisoned hairdressing, and the beautiful Zabou and her radiant smile became the talk of Paris. We have one more photo of her we may post a little later.
It's a tough job but some tabloid has to do it.
Above is the cover of a March 1953 issue of Sir! magazine, and in an example of the ephemeral nature of such items, shortly after we scanned this we spilled a glass of red wine on it. So behold! It's even more rare than it was when we bought it. Above the slash you see boxer Kid Gavilan, he of the famed bolo punch, and on the right is model Joanne Arnold, who we've featured before here, here, and here. She doesn't appear inside. But what you do get is a jaunt through such exotic locales as Melanesia, Tahiti, and Lisbon in search of knowledge and thrills.
We were drawn to the Lisbon story, which the magazine describes as a capital of sin. To us the word “sin” means late nights, good intoxicants, fun women, and excellent entertainment. To Sir! it means being cheated, robbed, framed, and arrested. To-may-to to-mah-to, we guess. We've spent some time in Lisbon and we love it. We don't know what it was like in 1953, but Europe was still coming out of World War II, which means many countries—even non-combatants like Portugal—were wracked by poverty. So we wouldn't be surprised if thieves were out in droves.
Elsewhere inside Sir! you get art from Jon Laurell and Joseph Szokoli, photos of model Jean Williams and Tahitian beauty queen Malie Haulani, a story on the danger of nuclear weapons, anthropological snobbery in exposés about New Caledonia and the Kogi people of Colombia, and fanciful theories about Russian scientists working to keep Josef Stalin alive for 150 years—which didn't work, because he died a mere five days after this issue of Sir! hit the newsstands. Clearly, the magazine is cursed. It certainly cursed our wine glass. We have thirty-five scans below for your enjoyment and other issues of Sir! here and here.
The view from the below is plenty thrilling in Gemser sex comedy.
We're sure you can take a gander at the above poster for Malizia erotica and instantly come to the conclusion: Ahhh yes, good ole European sex comedies. The movie was originally made in Spain but released as El periscopio in Italy today in 1979. It stars lanky erotic icon Laura Gemser in a story that would surely ruffle feathers—if not spark litigation—were it to be made today. In short, a teenaged schoolboy played by Ángel Herraiz lives with his parents in an apartment beneath that of supersexed nurses Gemser and Bárbara Rey, and like any rational kid would, he uses a periscope to spy on them.
There are other plot threads here, but forget those. This peeping teen angle leads to an amazing scene: Herraiz gets so heated up by his voyeurism that he develops pains in the groin area. His parents know the upstairs pair are medical professionals and ask Gemser to diagnose the kid's problem. She discerns immediately that Herraiz has a debilitating case of blue balls and gives the kid some manual relief—in front of his parents! Ahhh yes, good ole European sex comedies. Sure, her nursely fap session happens out of direct view under the kid's blanket, but still.
It just goes to show that little is out of bounds in this genre. The older woman introducing a boy to sex has been the subject of scores of films, but what was once thought of as a lucky manchild's rite of passage is now considered sexual predation. We don't disagree, however we know two guys this has happened to and neither of them regret it. Real life is full of contradictions that way. In any case, what would have been nice is if this particular coming-of-age story were better written, acted, and filmed. But ahhh yes, good ole European sex comedies—they're nearly always inept. El periscopio does not reverse the trend.
The beach is always fun and games until someone gets burned.
What a coincidence. We were just talking about Joan Bennett a couple of days ago. You remember the story. Her husband tried to shoot her lover in the balls. Or unit. Or really anywhere in the vicinity of his reproductive organs. And he succeeded in hitting the vicinity, but missed all the crucial plumbing. It was a Hollywood love triangle that ended in blood and violence. Woman on the Beach stars Bennett, Robert Ryan, and Charles Bickford, and is also a love triangle that causes violence. The plot concerns a Coast Guard officer who becomes infatuated with a married woman. The woman's husband is an artist who lost his sight in an accident, but the Coast Guard officer becomes convinced the artist isn't really blind, but rather is using it as an excuse to hang onto his wife. Under the careful direction of French auteur Jean Renoir, Woman on the Beach makes for a decent ninety minutes of entertainment. We don't consider it a film noir, by the way, as some crowdsourced sites and blogs suggest. It just doesn't meet the requirements, in our view. AFI.com agrees, and calls it drama. It premiered in New York City today in 1947.
Stop calling me that. It's Stan. My name is Stan.
Satan in Malibu came from Vega Books via the brain and typewriter of Frank Cannon, and it deals with a man who tries to solve his brother's murder. He learns of the death when a telegram arrives, but is the woman who sent it to him really trying to help, or is there more to her story? The hero's investigation takes him to Santa Cruz Island off the coast of Southern California, and when he gets there he runs across a band of satanists who may have done the killing.
We last ran across Frank Cannon when we shared a cover for his 1964 effort Hide in Hell. The hell in that book was figurative. The hell in Satan in Malibu is a slightly less so, since the villains actually believe in it, but the reason for the murder is rooted firmly in the mundane world. We don't know who painted the cover art, but for Vega Books it's not bad. The copyright on this is 1961.
L’età there be Lindberg.
Hard to believe it’s been two years since we last wrote about Christina Lindberg, but time flies. Her 1971 softcore sex romp L’età della malizia, aka Maid in Sweden, is a coming-of-age tale about a girl who goes to the big city to visit her aunt and gets into all sorts of sticky situations. There isn’t much to recommend here, as the plot is thin, the characters are flimsy, and some of the sexual encounters fall into the category of coercion. But the film is notable because it was the first time Lindberg appeared on American movie screens. For that reason many sites incorrectly describe the movie as her debut, but this was actually the third movie she had filmed, after 1970’s Rötmånad, aka What Are You Doing After the Orgy?, and 1971’s Exponerad, aka Diary of a Rape. Want two scary facts? Rötmånad in Swedish means “dog days” and Exponerad means “exposed.” The U.S. titles, which incorporate “orgy” and “rape” give an indication of what the American distributors of these films thought about American audiences. We like the impressionist Italian poster, though, and just so you don’t think we’re all high and mighty about the lowbrow nature of this movie, below is a nude promo of Lindberg. If you want to see an amazing array of posters and photos of Sweden’s most amazing export, click her keywords below.
The hitch hiker’s guide to your back seat.
Last year we showed you a poster by Carlo Alessandrini, the Italian illustrator who signed his work Aller. Today seemed like a good day to bring him back, so above and below are five more posters by the same artist. We don't know anything about him but as always we'll dig. Regardless, we’ll have more from him down the line. Know anything about this artist? Drop us a line. You can see that other amazing piece from Alessandrini/Aller here.
Immediate openings for 5 pirates—strong swimmers only.
The body of a pirate washed onto a Somali beach this weekend. According to reports, he was one of five pirates who ended up in Davy Jones’ locker when their small boat capsized in rough seas. Not specified in the reports is whether the boat was perhaps weighed down after taking on a massive $3 million ransom for releasing a Saudi oil tanker. The body that bobbed ashore had $153,000 in cash in a plastic bag in its pocket, but the other four bodies were still missing as of today, along with the rest of the ransom. We’ll go ahead and be the first to start a legend that the missing money didn’t really sink, but was washed into a deserted cove to await discovery by some lucky bloke years from now. It’s considered irresponsible journalism to intentionally start rumors, but we can’t stand a pirate tale without buried treasure. Or at least, you know, a parrot.
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