Hammerlocks Will Never Hold Me

 

 

"Hammerlocks Will Never Hold Me!" gouache on paper 8.5" x 5" $30.

The Fresh Lobster 1928

Here is an odd little cinematic short from 1928, titled The Fresh Lobster. It's an insane little celluloid nightmare in the vein of Winsor McCay's absurd cartoon strip Dreams Of The Rarebit Fiend. Only in this novel little short, the trigger for the hallucinatory adventure isn't a dinner of melted cheese on bread, but the late night snack of a plate of lobster and a pickle.

The film was supposedly released in theaters in 1928, then re-released twenty years later in 1948, this time with sound. All sources seem to agree that there isn't much known about the production of this oddity, nor the impetus for its creation; perhaps it was McCay's popular newspaper strip. The cinematographer is listed as Harry Forbes, who has camera credits for a number of shorts between 1915 and 1931, and quickie b-westerns and adventure films in the 1930s, before his passing in 1939. The producers credited in the title card are Harvey Pergament and Max Alexander. Pergament seems to have had a limited career in the industry, if his IMDB credits are indicative of his involvement, as he's only listed with one other producer credit, and that's co-producer of a 1954 UK title about South Africa titled Flame Of Africa. Max Alexander has quite the list of production credits to his name, largely b-grade crime and western pictures throughout the 1930s and 40s. 

The star of this piece is Billie Bletcher, who started in vaudeville and worked his way steadily from 1914 through the early 1970s in silent films, shorts, voicing characters in Disney and Looney Tunes cartoons, 1960s television appearances in shows like Get Smart and Dennis The Menace, and even had a bit part in the 1940 Boris Karloff thriller The Ape.

Enjoy!

Kashchey The Immortal (1945)

Here's an interesting Russian fantasy film from 1945. The version uploaded to Youtube here has the native Russian language audio track, with kindly provided English subtitles. It's based on a Russian folktale about Koschei (which I've seen spelled a half dozen different ways in the same paragraph in some sources), an evil sorcerer who has attained immortality through black magic, and can only be killed when his soul is captured. The twist is that in the various tales about Koschei, he's hidden his soul in various things that are nearly impossible to reach or catch, such as in a needle lodged in the center of an egg held by a duck that flies away when approached, or, in the case of this film, his heart (maybe changed in the translation?) is in the center of a black apple that grows on a black tree, which stands on a black hill. If one approaches the black tree, a single leaf will grow out of the branch, and a flower will appear, which will in turn produce the apple. Of course anyone who splits the apple to get at the heart will be turned to stone and frozen forever.

Georgy Millyar as Kashchey, The Immortal

The film is glaringly nationalistic, almost to a comical degree near the end when the hero's faith and love of his Mother Russia produces a literal army out of thin air. Our protagonist carries a bandana full of his native soil that he kisses and asks to protect him. At the moment in question, he tosses it to the ground and a phalanx of troops appears. Visually stunning, dramatically captivating and definitely worth the 63 minute running time. Starring actor Georgy Millyar as the titular Kashchey, a character actor who seemed to make a living out of playing grotesque creatures, sometimes with a comic bent to them, as in the popularly MST3K'd film Jack Frost (Морозко, Morozko, 1964).

The Ultimate Poker Face

Poster for the Sam Katzman produced
The Man Who Turned To Stone, 1957.

Monster movies have always needed new fields to farm regarding the menace of their product. Once you've exhausted all of the most prominent literary ghouls and goblins, stretched their source material threadbare with almost-unrelated sequels and spin-offs; once invaders from beyond the stars or beneath the waves lose their impact; once the vengeful spirits of slain lovers no longer successfully haunt the halls of the local theaters, nor the sound of voodoo drums is able to conjure the beat of feet to the cinema, it's time to look for other sources of box office bank. 

There is plenty of folklore to glean (or culturally appropriate, depending on whom you talk to) in regards to the animation of inanimate objects via possession by wayward souls or demons, or other supernatural means. Cultures the world over have various poppets, dolls and fetish figures, like the Kongolese nkisi figures, that are allegedly vessels–or prisons, depending on the context–for spirits. We've seen these ideas repurposed into everything from the killer Zuni fetish doll from the 1975 television movie Trilogy Of Terror, to the seemingly endless list of possessed doll/mannequin/ventriloquist dummy films from 1945's Dead Of Night, to the bread and butter of Charles Band's Full Moon Features company with their Puppet Master and Demonic Toys franchises. There is also the Golem. Fairly prominent in the pop cultural zeitgeist, Golem is a word that roughly translates from Hebrew to mean "shapeless mass", and in Jewish folklore, has a plethora of permutations based on the context of the usage; but the one we're interested in here is the one regarding a clay figure brought to life via supernatural means to serve its master. Sort of an earthen zombie if you will. 

Paul Wegener as Der Golem.

The concept of the Golem itself was adapted early to the silver screen by director/actor Paul Wegener in 1915 with Der Golem, the first of a trilogy of silent films, followed by Der Golem und die Tänzerin (The Golem and the Dancing Girl) (1917) and, Die Golem, wie er in die Welt kam (The Golem: How He Came Into The World) (1920), of which the final film is the only known to exist in a complete and intact version (see it here). The Golem mythos was revisited in 1937's Le Golem directed by Julien Duvivier, and in a French telefilm in 1967; and in between when the American b-movie boom of the mid-1950s came a-calling, it was looked to again for inspiration.

In 1958, Edward L. Cahn (Sam Katzman perennial who directed Creature With The Atom Brain and Zombies of Mora Tau, as well as classics like Invasion Of The Saucer Men and The Four Skulls Of Jonathan Drake) directed Richard Anderson in Curse Of The Faceless Man, (trailer here) about a calcified Pompeiian warrior who comes back to life to reclaim to current reincarnation of his ancient love. More or less a version of Universal's The Mummy (1932), but with the rock-coated corpse of a dead slave in place of a revived Egyptian. A year prior, we had the Sam Katzman-produced The Man Who Turned To Stone (trailer here) about a group of devious doctors who've found a way to prolong their own existence for centuries by draining the vitality out of other humans, which they currently (in regards to the plot) are doing to girls at a reform school. Without rejuvenation, the docs start to petrify and take on a decidedly Zacherley-esque appearance. That same year, moviegoers were also threatened by The Monolith Monsters, (trailer here) a Universal b-picture starring Grant Williams and Lola Albright, in which a small southern California desert town is menaced by water-thirsty space crystals that petrify (literally) anyone who touches them in contact with water.  In 1967 a very Norman Bates-ish Roddy McDowall helped reawaken the Golem mythos with It!, also known as Anger Of The Golem or Curse Of The Golem, in which he awakens The Golem of Prague to do his bidding (trailer here).

The peplum films of the early-to-mid 60s feature plenty of rock men for our oiled up muscle men to battle, like in 1964's Hercules Against The Moon Men and the Mario Bava directed 1961 feature Hercules In The Haunted World.

I suppose the allure of these stone monsters is that they seem invincible, and we the audience are supposed to sit, anxiously watching, wondering how our protagonists are going to defeat something that is impervious to temperature, bullets, fire, wooden stakes, etcetera. When the villain is unfeeling, in every sense of the word, it's akin to trying to defeat Superman; alas, each of the aforementioned creeps have their own Kryptonite which the heroes successfully find, or accidentally stumble into, before the running time is up. 

Nkisi Nkondi (Power Figure), from the collection
of the Brooklyn Museum

The list of similar films is far too long to try and collate a comprehensive list of, and ultimately a pointless task. If you're looking for a good monster made of rock movie, the ones listed above should be a good start. If you're more into possessed killer trees, might I recommend From Hell It Came or the infamous Evil Dead.

If anyone has any favorites of the so-called sub genre, I'd be glad to hear about them.

Even Supes had to deal with malevolent minerals. From The Adventures of
Superman #470, Sept. 1990.

Chilling Cheesecake

Here are some suitably spooky pinups from yesteryear.

The Return Of Dr. Tongue

It's a painting in progress.

Ghost Robot Versus The Mad Magician

Gouache on watercolor paper. A work in progress.

Little Richard

Unwrapped

Holy Egyptology, Batman! Here's a sequential unwrapping from Sensations Revue Mensuelle magazine number 13, 1949. A sublime slice of French cheesecake fluff titled "La Momie", definitely in the burlesque stage show vein of the Folies Bergére. 

One of the stills from this set was adapted for the cover art of the University of Vice Records release Primitive Paradise: Early Exotica 1920 - 1947, a great compilation that compiles forgotten 78s of Latin and Hawaiian tunes from the early days of recorded music, before the term "Exotica" became a household term for faux ethnography. I definitely recommend checking out anything University of Vice has put out. 

Mid-Century Signage

It's often difficult to find artifacts of the past hidden amongst the same-same mass fabrication of the modern world, but on a recent camera outing, I spotted this mid-century sign for the Midway Motel in the Midway area of St. Paul. I love the COLOR TV by RCA sub-heading. 

Completing the Trifecta

Well, I was finally able to complete the Three Stooges model triptych. My wife found one of the elusive and preposterously-overpriced-due-to-their-scarcity Curly statues. Unbeknownst to her (and, allegedly the seller, but the claim seems somewhat dubious) it was sans base, so I can't lock the third knucklehead together with his fellow tomb raiders, but that's alright. 

I don't paint my models anymore. I've had some mixed results with doing so, and the paint generally flakes or fades anyhow, so I leave them au naturale. 

Strike Anywhere

I've always enjoyed the visual language of the small, disposable matchbook cover. I don't collect them, it seems pointless, but I am never not astounded by the striking imagery and visual appeal of a really good matchbook cover design. It's a pay-for-production job, undoubtedly, at least when matchbook cover design was an important part of a business's image. Before the internet, it was a marketing tool to spread the word around about your establishment. Even if it didn't reflect the decor of your bar or business, a striking logo or enticing image would draw folks to check out your place. And for the designer, it was a task with substantial limitations; you had to keep the colors few, the lettering readable and the image obvious. Too fancy and it would be cost prohibitive, too noisy and it wouldn't be legible, too dull and it wouldn't be worth the cost of the overhead.

I highly recommend checking out this flickr album of vintage matchbook covers from around the world, put together by Jane McDevitt. It features over 2900 quality scans of vintage matchbooks from around the globe, containing some of the most beautiful spot illustrations you might find anywhere. Definitely worth a perusal!

Cráneo de vaquero

"Cráneo de vaquero" colored pencil on paper

I've never been very skilled with colored pencils as a medium. I guess the same could be said about other mediums as well, but I've been watching some tutorials and trying to get more into it, since I got a spiffy new box of colored pencils from my employer recently. This was a simple layering exercise, blended with some nail polish remover. Still some trouble areas to work the kinks out of, like pulling darker shadows out of the greens without making them too muddy or adding black, which sort of grays everything up. 

Expressionist, Surrealist, Adventurist - Three Inspirational Artists

I'm back! Yes, it's been a while, but after straightening out some things I am back on the Blogger train  with the planned itinerary of stopping to post twice a week. If I have anything to say or show, that is. I thought I'd drop a little art history visual inspiration here today. There's no thematic rhyme or reason for the content beyond the fact that they are particular pieces or works of artists that I really enjoy.


PAUL KLEE

Paul Klee "Flußbaulandschaft" 1924

Paul Klee "Fool In Trance (Narr In Trance)" 1929 

Paul Klee "Der goldene fisch" 1925

Paul Klee "Schwartzer Herold (Black Herold)" 1924

There are a number of things that pull me in to Klee's work. I'm fascinated by the combination of the expressionist and cubist styles that he was a student of, along with what appears to be a fascination or love of primitive art. For example, the figures in "Der goldene fisch" seem to have the simplistic form reduction common to expressionist art, but the piece also appears very reminiscent of figural representations and patterning seen on Polynesian tapa cloth pieces. Some of the representational codification of nature and common objects seen in "Flußbaulandschaft" look very much like the visual language utilized in cave paintings and rock etchings of ancient peoples. I'm not an expert on the Bauhaus movement or even on Klee's work specifically by any means, but I've read that he had a very dry sense of humor and it was supposed to be evident in his painting. I can definitely read a sense of whimsey in his compositions. There's a timelessness to it as well. It seems to me that his "Schwartzer Herold" could easily have adorned the sign hanging in front of a Greenwich Village coffee house in the late 1950s, or been the logo for some English instrument manufacturer. 

REMEDIOS VARO

Remedios Varo "Phenomenon" 1963

Remedios Varo "Naturaleza muerta resucitando (Still Life Resurrecting)" 1963

Remedios Varo "Les feuilles mortes (Dead Leaves)" 1956

Remedios Varo "Música Solar (Solar Music)" 1955

Remedios Varo "Vampiros Vegetarianos" 1962

Remedios Varo is, hands down, one of my all-time favorite artists working in any visual medium, period. I could full a blank book as thick as a major metropolitan's Yellow Pages with everything I might have to say about the woman and her work, but to keep things short and to the point, her mixing of supernatural speculation, fabricated folkloric imagery, and humorous-yet-disturbing surrealist fancy make the perfect artistic stew for my eyes and brain to chew on.

EARL NOREM

Earl Norem "Surf Pack Assassins" from MALE magazine, Aug. 1967.

Earl Norem "The 5 Wild Wife Swap Party Games" interior of TRUE MAN
magazine, May 1962. 

Earl Norem "Mars Attacks" 1994

When those familiar even vaguely with the subject think of pulp adventure magazines and early paperback artwork for action, science-fiction, horror and fantasy novels, the names Richard Powers, Robert McGinnis and Norman Saunders all come to mind. Perhaps more prolific, though shamefully less known amongst the layman, is Earl Norem. If you grew up admiring the enticing blister card artwork on your Masters Of The Universe and G.I. Joe action figures, or were drawn to thumb through or purchase the large treasury edition comics in the 1970's and 80's featuring the likes of Conan The Barbarian or Marvel's supernatural-leaning output, then you are already familiar with Earl. In the 1950's and 60's, he was all over the newsstand with Men's pulp magazines, drawing readers in with his exciting covers which often oversold the content within, and made much of the fluff inside more enticing with his black and white interior illustrations. After the pulp era transitioned into the comic book market, Earl kept busy with covers and trading cards. Even into the 1990s, Mr. Norem was creating pop art promotion for film and television tie-ins with magazine covers and order-through-comic book bedroom posters featuring licensed materials the likes of The Six Million Dollar Man, Planet Of The Apes, Mars Attacks and Alien. Were you an early Dungeons & Dragons player? Then you were privy to Earl's illustrations as well. Seen by most as kitsch or disposable commercial window dressing, I for one have a whole lot of respect for the craft and talent portrayed in his work. Not to mention the subject matter!