Monday, February 2, 2009

From The Vault

This is Max Pecas's Je Suis Une Nymphomane, a '71 production.

It is certainly one of the oddest, most verbose ad mats for a sex pic I have ever seen.

The film itself is surprisingly well made and serious-minded (I guess that explains the Carole-signed ramble).

George Romero's classic paired with Jeff Lieberman's fascinating shocker.

Curious that Martin is referred to as Martin The Blood Lover(!)

Why is the X-rated Alice in Wonderland sharing the marquee with The Rocky Horror Picture Show?

Because both were released by 20th Century-Fox; the studio's version of Alice was cut, of course, to earn the softer rating.

The film, from the producer of Flesh Gordon, Bill Osco, went through the roof.

A bunch of Aussie women, imprisoned in a Tasmanian gulag, escape into the countryside and shun clothing.

Exceptionally odd movie with a strong feminist slant.

Much of it was improvised.

Also known as Blood Ruby, Curtis Harrington's atmospheric shocker was accompanied by Rene Cardona's Survive, a fact-based retelling of football team cannibalism in the Andes. The film was remade by Frank Marshall as Alive ('93).

I remember Survive getting great schoolboy reviews for its lurid scenes of flesh eating and base behavior.

A poster that creates no confusion about its subject matter.

The film is surprisingly interesting and featured more than one killer.

The director, Jack Sholder, went on to make the brilliant The Hidden.

5 comments:

  1. Hi Mark,

    SURVIVE was the first exploitation film I ever saw, except for maybe HR PUFFINSTUFF! I remember seeing it at the ROMA cinema in Bourke st, where I also saw WATERSHIP DOWN and THE SOLDIER with Klaus Kinski as a Euro-terrorist badass! I clearly remember snow, an intestine popping out and some blokes eating bacon rashers!

    Cheers

    Aaron G.

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  2. I heard lots about SURVIVE before seeing it at the drive-in. It didn't me at the time.

    The Roma was more a screening room than a cinema. But I loved it.

    Whenever I was in there, I felt cushioned from the world.

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  3. The woman in the Alice in Wonderland poster is really striking. I think I actually have that movie downloaded somewhere, I'll have to find it.

    I have to say that I love the ad for 'Je Suis Une Nymphomane' It's a brilliant example of an admonishing lecture that teases the audience into wanting to see the things they should be ashamed of seeing.

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  4. She's Kristine DeBell, and she was charming.

    There is a brand new DVD of the movie out through Subversive Cinema.

    Yeah, I also love how the 'Nympho' ad smacks the audience for wanting see what it's promising.

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  5. What about a blog dealing with the definition of 'exploitation' film?

    What is 'exploitation'?

    There seems now, more than ever, much shit spoken about exploitation. I cast my mind back to my days as a young fellow going to the drive in to see films such as 'Westworld', 'Soylent Green', 'Omega Man', and even the disaster movies- 'Poseidon', 'Towering Inferno', 'Earthquake', etc. I remember my mother putting a blanket over my head at the drive in toward the end of 'Soylent Green' because I think she- very astutely- sensed the foreshadowed inexorable climax, and expected there to be scenes of people being ground into patties a la 'Exterminator' once Heston broke into the flesh biccie factory.

    Was this explotation? Still makes me shudder when I watch it...and the thought of those biccies- I don't mind eating people, but the artificial colouring they used??...bleeacchh!!

    I used to love Disney; I loved all that crap about 'when you wish upon a star', but the older I get, the more I realise that Disney belongs in in a special place in Hell- a special classification in the nether Treblinka for such fantasy as Pinnochio, Tinker Bell, the Bible, Neale Donald Walsche and the whole wretched, cursed new age fantasy weaving gaggle who extract cash from the bereft of spirit and the easily led.

    There are no white knights and happy endings; wish in one hand, and shit in the other, as they say...

    But I believed it; and I'm not so sure I wasn't still wishing on a star well into my forties. Could not the noxious seed planted by Disney that sprouts in the weed of 'belief in oneself uber alles' not be exploitation of the highest order?

    Perhaps a film does not have to have D'Amato's name on it, William Smith at the back of the pack, or Tarantino's seal of approval to be exploitation.

    Perhaps every frame ever exposed belongs to the genre?

    Is it possible there is no other genre but 'exploitation'?

    Live with the question...

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