WOMANLY CURIOSITY

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.

They may be cannibals but you have to credit their exquisite culinary taste.


The above poster for was made to promote Sergio Martino’s La montagne du dieu cannibale, which was originally filmed in Italy as La montagna del dio cannibale, and in English was known as Slave of the Cannibal God and The Mountain of the Cannibal God. Basically, Ursula Andress ventures into the New Guinean jungle to find her husband, who disappeared during an expedition to Ra Ra Me Mountain, considered by native tribes to be cursed. The movie was actually shot in Sri Lanka, but details, details. Andress is accompanied on her quest by her brother, played by Antonio Marsina, a professor, played by Stacy Keach, and some unlucky locals. Their jungle trek brings on interpersonal strife, native attacks, gruesome murders, eventual capture, and additional gruesome murders, all to the accompaniment of creepy drum and synth music.

You’ll sometimes see this movie classified as horror, but it’s really a mondo revulsion flick, padded with real animal deaths that most people will find unwatchable. These gross-outs are somewhat balanced by the imminently watchable Ursula Andress, who’s forty-two here and looking just fine. We don’t mention that in passing. The entire point of this gorefest is to get her tied to a stake, stripped, and caressed by hot native girls. The plot about her missing husband—which morphs into a scheme to get rich with uranium—is just a fig leaf. We don’t recommend the movie even with Andress undressed in it, but if you watch it maybe don’t eat lunch beforehand. After originally premiering in West Germany, La montagne du dieu cannibale opened in France today in 1978.

Errol Flynn takes readers back to the romantic South Seas of his youth.

Above you see a cover for Showdown, which is a terrible name for this novel. It’s evocative of nothing, a failing that’s particularly egregious considering the story is set in the exotic South Seas. You may not have known that Errol Flynn was a novelist, but indeed he was, writing this and Beam Ends, plus his autobiography My Wicked, Wicked Ways, which you can consider fiction due to all the sticky episodes from his life it omits. Flynn was the equal of most popular fiction authors of his era, possibly even better than most, however Showdown, besides a better title, could have used an edit for conciseness in the first half. He goes into what we feel is unneeded detail into secondary characters, but even so, everything he writes is confident and steeped in tropical atmosphere.

In the tale, a British boat captain named Shamus O’Thames plies the waters around New Guinea, falls in love with a nun named Granice, and eventually takes on a charter of Hollywood types shooting second unit footage for a movie. It’s an ill-advised trip, but he agrees to it mainly because it will take him near his nun’s isolated jungle mission. Of course the voyage aboard his boat Maski does not go as planned, as the group end up stranded in headhunter territory. We could offer more details, but we don’t want to spoil it for interested readers. We’ll just say that it’s a fantastic tale with unexpected turns, some of them hard to believe, but with the whole lent credibility by the fact that Flynn, who was from Tasmania, had numerous real life adventures in New Guinea before he became a star.

Showdown probably couldn’t be published today due to its casting of native New Guinean people, known as Papuans or sometimes Melanesians, as either loyal servants or depraved villains. The book was originally published in 1946, a time when most white men didn’t think of native peoples as owners of their own land, nor deserving of self determination. It’s difficult to know exactly how Flynn himself felt about colonialism. We suspect, based on the narrative, that he might not have been entirely on the side of the forces of so-called civilization, but we’d have to re-read his autobiography to know for sure, and that book, sadly, vanished somewhere into the heart of darkness during one of our international moves. Flynn’s adventurer O’Thames is certainly kinder than most, but can’t be called enlightened by any stretch.

Anyway, Showdown is worth reading, bad title and all (by the way, we totally get the inference of a showdown not only between characters, but between cultures—it’s still a bad title). Flynn covers land and sea, love and hate, race and racism (however inadequately), and ultimately, like other authors in this sub-genre (see here and here), asks whether white men should be in the tropics at all. He doesn’t have any new answers, but he certainly says what he wants to with some style and an abundance of conviction. He was open about the fact that he preferred being a novelist over being an actor. His personal foibles and failings aside, it’s too bad he didn’t write more.

But Dad, you said we were here to show them what the outside world has to offer!


Today’s issue of Adam magazine, the sixty-seventh we’ve shared, was published this month in 1977, and has an interesting cover illustrating J.W. Anderson’s adventure tale, “The Valley of Kaha.” Adam has a unique style of covers, nearly all painted by either Phil Belbin or Jack Waugh, but this example is unusually nice, we think, with its monochrome background meant to capture the look of jungle mists. Those mists are supposed to be in New Guinea, and in Anderson’s story a rich, cruel, and aging industrialist catches wind of a legend that makes him think he can find the fountain of youth. Does he find it? We have no worries telling you, since the story is so obscure. He does indeed, and it turns him into a baby. We love a short story that has a punchline. Actually, he goes even further than infancy. Eventually he plain disappears—pop! The story isn’t well written, but it amused the hell out of us. Also amusing, on the final pages of the issue are topless archers. You’ll probably assume the text explaining why they’re topless was omitted by us, but you’ll be wrong. Adam offered no explanation. And really, who needs one? Scans below.

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HISTORY REWIND

The headlines that mattered yesteryear.

1938—BBC Airs First Sci-Fi Program

BBC Television produces the first ever science fiction television program, an adaptation of a section of Czech writer Karel Capek’s dark play R.U.R., aka, Rossum’s Universal Robots. The robots in the play are not robots in the modern sense of machines, but rather are biological entities that can be mistaken for humans. Nevertheless, R.U.R. featured the first known usage of the term “robot”.

1962—Powers Is Traded for Abel

Captured American spy pilot Gary Powers, who had been shot down over the Soviet Union in May 1960 while flying a U-2 high-altitude jet, is exchanged for captured Soviet spy Rudolf Abel, who had been arrested in New York City in 1957.

1960—Woodward Gets First Star on Walk of Fame

Actress Joanne Woodward receives the first star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, the Los Angeles sidewalk at Hollywood Boulevard and Vine Street that serves as an outdoor entertainment museum. Woodward was one of 1,558 honorees chosen by the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce in 1958, when the proposal to build the sidewalk was approved. Today the sidewalk contains nearly 2,800 stars.

1971—Paige Enters Baseball Hall of Fame

Satchel Paige becomes the first player from America’s Negro Baseball League to be voted into the Major League Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York. Paige, who was a pitcher, played for numerous Negro League teams, had brief stints in Cuba, Mexico, Puerto Rico, and the Major Leagues, before finally retiring in his mid-fifties.

1969—Allende Meteorite Falls in Mexico

The Allende Meteorite, the largest object of its type ever found, falls in the Mexican state of Chihuahua. The original stone, traveling at more than ten miles per second and leaving a brilliant streak across the sky, is believed to have been approximately the size of an automobile. But by the time it hit the Earth it had broken into hundreds of fragments.

Cover art by Roswell Keller for the 1948 Pocket Books edition of Ramona Stewart's Desert Town.
Rare Argentinian cover art for The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells.

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