ANTISOCIAL MEDIA

No need to teach an old tabloid new tricks. The standard ones worked just fine.

As usual there’s plenty happening inside this issue of Hush-Hush, which was published in May 1963. We’re mainly interested in Porfirio Rubirosa, who we haven’t written about in a long while. A quick refresher: Rubirosa was a Dominican born jet-setter, playboy, race car driver, and polo player who married a succession of wealthy women, came away richer each time, and left behind a trail of unbelievable stories. Hush-Hush gleefully tells readers that the one percenters, ex-lovers, and betrayed husbands in Rubirosa’s extensive circle are all terrified because he’s rumored to be publishing a memoir. This bare-all would supposedly expose never-before-heard secrets of the rich, famous, and powerful.

Hush-Hush then goes through the list of Rubirosa’s wives and affairs, offering no new information but padding the article with typically circular tabloid language, before concluding: One of Rubi’s biggest assets is certainly discretion. So relax, ladies. In other words, the memoir would share the facts, but no names. That doesn’t sound fun at all. But the book, if it was ever planned, was never written, as far as we know, and Rubirosa took his secrets with him when he exited this existence two years later by crashing his Ferrari into a chestnut tree in Paris.

Elsewhere Hush-Hush rails against Eugene Burdick and Harvey Wheeler’s anti-war novel Fail-Safe, calling it a propaganda victory for communists—a standard attack in the U.S. still used today when sensible people warn of the lunacy of choosing war over dialogue. The magazine also exploits the deceased Marilyn Monroe by writing an article about how others are exploiting the deceased Marilyn Monroe. And need we say it? Cynically pretending to defend others for various types of gain is also a trick that still works today.

Moving on, Anthony Perkins gets the treatment by being called effeminate, which is as close as a tabloid could get after the lawsuits of earlier years to saying an actor was gay. Also in the area of sexuality, Helen Gurley Brown’s bestselling book Sex and the Single Girl is called, “the final blow in the decline of the American virgin.” Others who get their turn on the rack include Frank Sinatra, Kim Novak, and Arlene Dahl, about whom the magazine asks, “Why did Arlene Dahl pose in the nude?” We’d say she posed nudish, not nude, but in any case she was beautiful, so it was a gift to the world.

We have almost thirty scans below, and note: the moiré patterns on the images are due to the lower quality printing used by Hush-Hush. There may be a way to avoid them in scanning, but we don’t know how.

It doesn't just bite—it kills and swallows whole.

Now we go from a million eyes to one eye. Black Eye, which premiered today in 1974, stars Fred Williamson in his eighth leading role, and though you may not have heard of the film, it’s one of those rare blaxploitation flicks in which you can see a bit of money on the screen. We’re talking in terms of lighting, framing, locations, night shooting, and more areas where cheaper movies were forced to cut corners. Despite the high production value and the gloss it produces, movies depend mainly on acting and that’s something that only talent can solve. Williamson does mostly okay, but he’s stretched to a few lengths that prove difficult for him to reach, with a predictable effect on the movie’s overall quality. He plays Shep Stone, an erstwhile police lieutenant drummed off the force for killing a drug dealer. He finds himself involved in the murder of his girlfriend’s upstairs neighbor, which had something to do with a silver-tipped cane stolen from a casket in the movie’s opening minutes. Naturally the case unfolds to reveal more than just theft and murder. Expect the expected.

However, Black Eye also has some unusual elements. Williamson is annoyed that his girlfriend Teresa Graves has indulged in a lesbian fling, but gets schooled by her in a very modern way on sexuality, male expectations, and labeling. Graves: “I’m not a lesbian. It just so happens that somebody I find very interesting and have a great deal in common with happens to be a woman.” And speaking of sexuality, some viewers may enjoy this flick a little extra thanks to an unihibited beachfront display by Williamson—we’re talking big-dick-in-a-Speedo action. In slow motion, too, so you can get a really good look. We imagine Williamson at the premiere, nudging people in the ribs: “You see that? That big old thing flopping around? That’s all me. It’s a grower too.” Graves, for her part, offers some lovely buttcrack in the same beach sequence. She’s really beautiful, so it’s a good thing. It’s the two of them, in their second screen pairing, that make Black Eye worth watching. You can’t help but be charmed, just a little.

She'll escape from prison eventually. She's had more than enough practice.

The Italian sexploitation flick Femmine Infernali, which premiered in Italy today in 1980, is another women-in-prison effort, and because we already knew it was cobbled together from footage concurrently shot with the same cast and sets as Orinoco: Prigioniere del sesso, we didn’t feel a burning need to see it. But the art on the above poster is pretty nice. It was painted by Carlo Alessandrini, who signed his work as Aller. It’s been a long while since we’ve looked at his output. You can see some interesting examples of his style here, here, here, and here.

Femmine Infernali starred Ajita Wilson, and was retitled for its English release to Escape from Hell. As with any b-level sub-genre, women-in-prison movies are generally terrible. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. At their best—and we use that term advisedly—they offer this: veiled social commentary, proto-feminist themes couched deep within their inherently sexist overarch, occasional tender depictions of lesbianism, and action featuring women who can kick ass.

This was not Wilson’s first or even second tango in women’s prison, as we noted above. We also discussed her turn in 1976’s Perverse oltre le sbarre, and she was in Sadomania – Hölle der Lust, so she earned at least a superfecta. In today’s spin through WIP purgatory she’s again installed in a hellhole jungle prison with abusive guards and little hope, and once again decides to escape or die trying. In the end, does the movie have any of the four WIP characteristics we mentioned above? Not enough to matter. This random quote should demonstrate its basic quality: “Decency is one of the rules in our regulations.” You see? Our advice: if you watch it, tell nobody you did.

Angela the sunbear: I liked the movie. It spoke to me because, here at Hangzhou Zoo, I too am illusorily free but in reality imprisoned and watched over by cruel keepers.

You two can call yourselves what you want, but to me, prostitute is an ugly word. I consider myself a social worker.

We’ve seen a fair amount of poster art from John Solie. This effort looks a little different for him, a bit less polished maybe. It’s a striking piece anyway, set at the intersection of Love Street and John Street, made for the urban drama Street Girls, which premiered today in 1976 and starred Carol Case. The first thing to note about this film is that it was co-scripted by eventual multiple Oscar winner Barry Levinson. He was influenced by Martin Scorsese’s Mean Streets, clearly, but Street Girls‘ closest cinematic relative actually came three years later in Paul Schrader’s 1979 thriller Hardcore. The vibe is identical, and the plot, about a smalltown father trying to save his sexually exploited daughter, is similar. What isn’t similar are important elements such as budget, technical values, and acting.

Street Girls is about the aformentioned forlorn father, but most of the plot early on focuses on the daughter, played by Case, who’s dancing at a strip dive called the Step Down a Go-Go, is sexually involved with one of the other women, and has been been targeted by bad guy Paul Pompian for conversion to drug addiction and prostitution. Dad mostly blunders oaflike around the city—in this case Eugene, Oregon—but eventually runs into the right people to help him find his litle girl, if only he can convince them. If that happens it’s possible Case won’t be turned out, but it’s a fraught race against a determined pimp.

Street Girls is an example of what it means to be a novice in Hollywood. No matter the nature of a production you must commit to doing your best, or your career will be short. Case gives about as committed a performance as you’ll see. It doesn’t work completely, though we suspect more time could have drawn out a better result. But that’s always the rub—time derives from budget, as does the ability to make quality hires across the board before the cameras even roll. It’s nice that Levinson rose to be a superstar director, but it isn’t neccessarily that he was the only one here with talent. He would have benefitted from other factors, including pure luck. Watching this, we thought it would have been nice if mainstream success had found Case too. Instead, Street Girls was her only film.

Italian filmmakers manage to produce an archetypal example of the male gaze.

This super poster was made to promote the Italian film La donna nel mondo, known in English as Women of the World, made by schlockmeisters Paolo Cavara, Gualtiero Jacopetti, and Franco Prosperi with leftover footage from their 1962 gross-out documentary Mondo Cane. This effort discusses women—full stop. It looks at different types of women all around the world, from Israeli soldiers to New Guinean tribeswomen to Cannes Film Festival movie star wannabes to Japanese amas, with occasional digressions into whether they’re hot and/or bedworthy.

It’s narrated by Peter Ustinov, who in his urbane and continental accent drops nuggets like this: “What are the deep rooted emotions that remove [these lesbians] from the company of men, yet at the same time cause them to emulate the masculine appearance with such pathetic results? Even though these emotions are covered up by a blasé attitude, one is still aware of their underlying sadness.” Ouch.

If we were to speculate, we’d say it’s possible that living in a repressed early-1960s society that treats you as persona non grata could cause some sadness, but in the here-and-now our lesbian friends don’t seem to have an underlying sadness about anything except not having enough time to do all the cool shit they dream up. There’s still plenty of second class treatment, but being able to exist above ground really makes a difference in one’s life. Ustinov’s narration is snobbish through most of the film, so it’s less purely anti-lgbt than anti-everything that isn’t middle ground and whitebread. You have to expect it for the period.

The movie goes on to feature drag performers, everyday cross-dressers, manages to work in insults toward trans star Coccinelle, and even briefly squeezes in a cameo from actress Belinda Lee. The title is “women of the world” and indeed, the filmmakers leave few corners of the globe unexplored. We suppose on some level that really does make it educational, if voyeuristic, so in the end we have to pronounce it worth a glance. At the very least you’ll get a primer on square-peg mid-century social attitudes. La donna nel mondo premiered in Italy in January 1963, and in Japan today the same year.

You take instruction remarkably well. If you show the same aptitude academically you might actually graduate.

Above: a classic in the lesbian sleaze genre, 1964’s Tutor from Lesbos, by A. P. Williams. If you want a copy of this it’ll run you upwards of two-hundred dollars, which we can tell you is a lot for a book that’s almost guaranteed to be bad. We’ve never paid more than thirty dollars for a paperback, and then only a rare few times. At that maximum price, we might never be able to buy Tutor from Lesbos, but we can certainly buy something almost identical. That’s the real lesson learned.

She's grown in the last few years. And unfortunately *gulp* I've grown in the last few seconds.

This cover for the 1965 sleaze novel Overnight Guest features art from Victor Olson depicting an actual scene from the story, except in the text the woman in question is face up and topless. It’s a good illustration, notable for the fact that it wasn’t painted by Paul Rader, who you’d be forgiven for thinking painted every cover for Midwood Books. As for Ludwell Hughes’ story, it’s the tale of a middle-aged man who becomes obsessed with two girls aged seventeen and nineteen, and pursues them relentlessly despite dire and multiplying consequences. This tale isn’t one where main character Richard Pell’s behavior is thought to be acceptable for the period. Pell knows himself to be a predator, and Hughes writes in zero excuses for his behavior. That’s pretty progressive for the era. Unfortunately, the book also takes a wrenching turn into evil lesbian tropes—not unusual in a Midwood paperback. Even so, Overnight Guest was a surprise in terms of theme and quality.

This is what it looks like when marriages die.

Today in 1965 the low budget drama Scream of the Butterfly premiered for U.S. audiences. The poster is simple but provocative, which is a fitting assessment of the movie as well. Its central development is a murder that occurs when a couple marries, only for the wife to embark on an affair five days after the wedding, and later be run down by a car. Viewers learn this as a district attorney and his assistant district attorney disagree over the best way to conduct a murder prosecution. The boss wants it done quietly, while the assistant wants a showy trial that generates plenty of publicity, thus the possible opportunity for self-promotion. They both vie against a confident public defender who believes he has an ironclad temporary insanity defense. The three spend the film in the D.A.’s office arguing their respective points of view, while the murder’s circumstances are related via episodic flashbacks.

Argentinian dancer Nélida Lobato stars as the highly sexed victim, her husband is portrayed by William Turner, and the legal eagles are Nick Novarro, Richard Beebe, and Robert Miller. None of this crew can act but the movie is watchable anyway because it possesses an interesting earnestness, exemplified by its tragic soundtrack and artsy tight framing meant to project high melodrama. Also, notably, Lobato shows everything that could be legally shown on a screen in 1965, so the movie has a bit of significance on that front. But on the whole, it’s too poorly put together to be called an actual success, even with its undeniably clever twist ending. At one point, bit player Alan J. Smith laments, “This is like a bad play,” as if he’s making a nostra culpa to the audience. Scream of the Butterfly isn’t like a bad play. It’s like a high-minded but ultimately mediocre play.

Rainy with a chance of murderous ex-lovers.

This awesome Paul Rader cover for Russell Trainer’s 1963 novel No Way Back made us think we were dealing with another natural disaster story—and you know we love those—but the art deceived us. The book is actually a sleaze tale—maybe the nipples should have clued us in—with only the last fifteen pages set during a storm. It’s about a man who returns from the Vietnam War to find that his wife has gotten involved in an affair with a woman who’s also taken his spot in his real estate business. While it’s filled with titillation, it’s relentlessly anti-gay, with Trainer calling homosexuality depraved, perverted, wicked, and other slanders. It would be interesting to know, considering how hot his love scenes are, whether the moralizing came from his mind or those of Midwood editors. The climax where Trainer’s lesbian turns homicidal is unlikely, at best. Readers might have believed it in 1963, but they wouldn’t now. As we’ve said many times, book and poster art have gotten worse since the mid-century, but culture has gotten better.

But first she's günah have to get a new shirt.

This is a nice piece of art from Turkey for the women-in-prison flick Günah—i.e. “Sin.” The movie was originally made in Italy as Perverse oltre le sbarre, and was known as Hell Behind Bars in English speaking countries. The art here is basically a crop of the Italian promo, and like the original neglects to include the film’s star Ajita Wilson. In fact, nobody in the cast looks remotely like the poster artist’s fantasy woman with her ripped shirt and wonderful white girl afro, so if you watch the movie you’ll have to make do with Wilson, Rita Silva, Linda Jones, et al. But we don’t recommend that you actually do that. It’s pretty bad.

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HISTORY REWIND

The headlines that mattered yesteryear.

1978—Son of Sam Goes to Prison

David Berkowitz, the New York City serial killer known as Son of Sam, is sentenced to 365 years in prison for six killings. Berkowitz had acquired his nickname from letters addressed to the NYPD and columnist Jimmy Breslin. He is eventually caught when a chain of events beginning with a parking ticket leads to his car being searched and police discovering ammunition and maps of crime scenes.

1963—Buddhist Monk Immolates Himself

In South Vietnam, Buddhist monk Thích Quảng Đức burns to death after dousing himself with gasoline and lighting a match. He does it to protest the persecution of Buddhists by the Ngô Đình Diệm led government, choosing a busy Saigon intersection for his protest. An image of the monk being consumed by flames as he sits crosslegged on the pavement, shot by Malcolm Browne, wins a Pulitzer Prize and becomes one of the most shocking and recognizable photos ever published.

1935—AA Founded

In New York City, Dr. Robert Smith and William Griffith Wilson, who were both recovering alcoholics, establish the organization Alcoholics Anonymous, which pioneers a 12-step rehabilitation program that is so helpful and popular it eventually spreads to every corner of the globe.

1973—John Paul Getty III Is Kidnapped

John Paul Getty III, grandson of billionaire oil tycoon J. Paul Getty, is kidnapped in Rome, Italy. The elder Getty ignores a ransom demand for $17 million, thinking it is a joke. When John Paul’s ear later arrives in the mail along with a note promising further mutilation, he negotiates the ransom down to $2.9 million, which he pays only on the condition that John Paul repay him at four percent interest. Getty’s kidnappers are never caught.

1973—Secretariat Wins Triple Crown

Thoroughbred racehorse Secretariat becomes the first U.S. Triple Crown champion in twenty-five years when he wins the Belmont Stakes. During his triple crown campaign, he sets new records in two of the three events (times that still stand today), and wins the Belmont in an astonishing thirty-one lengths.

Swapping literature was a major subset of midcentury publishing. Ten years ago we shared a good-sized collection of swapping paperbacks from assorted authors.
Photo illustration art from Brazilian publisher Edições de Ouro for Bruno Fischer's A Bela Assassina.
Cover art by Italian illustrator Giovanni Benvenuti for the James Bond novel Vivi e lascia morire, better known as Live and Let Die.
Uncredited cover art in comic book style for Harry Whittington's You'll Die Next!

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