From Zombos Closet

Pressbooks (Non-Horror)

Attack of the Jungle Women (1959) Pressbook

The Producer’s Comments
Since I have not seen this movie since it was released, I was excited to learn that it has been included on imdb.com. The movie was suggested by Dr. Phillips, then Director of the San Diego Museum of Man, to the actor Jeffrey Hunter when they worked together on a project in Central America. It was developed as a documentary, and when completed, it was quite good. However, when we could not sell it, we sold it to a private firm, and they, in order to make it more exciting, and without our O.K. hired prostitutes from Mexico to introduce some wild scenes. These scenes were filmed in Balboa Park in San Diego. A major professional reviewer stated that he liked the documentary, but WHAT WERE THOSE HALF-NAKED WOMEN DOING IN THE FILM? Incidentally, I furnished the funds for the documentary. (IMDb entry made by Chet Sampson)

“Why in all that is sensible would you post this pressbook?” asked Zombos. He was scolding first, then withholding, second, my very savory Painkiller drink. It was late evening. I was tired, and so in need of  that rum, cream of coconut, pineapple, and orange juices concoction that Chef Machiavelli was expert at whipping up when most needed that my only thoughts were drink, bed, and late morning rise. But he did have an annoying habit of interrupting my thoughts. Often.

“I like the poster art,” I tried.

“I see,” he said, waiting for more.

Attack of the Jungle Women 1959 pressbook

Think fast, rabbit, I mouthed to myself as my arm reached for the drink. He would have none of that and stepped back a bit, out of my reach.

“There’s also an interesting story behind the movie,” I offered. He nodded a green-light. …

Hopalong Cassidy (1948) Pressbook

Alternately known as Hop-A-Long and Hop-Along Cassidy, this Western series had a long run, beginning with Paramount in 1935 and moving over to United Artists in 1943. This pressbook is United Artists’ theater promotion-push for five of Hop’s movies released in 1948.

When Paramount stopped making the films, “Boyd himself produced several more features for United Artists until the movie series finally petered out in 1948. Seeing an opportunity in television, Boyd gambled his entire savings, including mortgaging his home, and bought the rights to the character and all of the films made up to that point. He then arranged for them to be shown on TV, introducing them to a new generation of youngsters. He also started a big marketing campaign, with lunch boxes, drinking glasses, toys, etc. It made him a millionaire. Boyd then produced two years of new Hopalong Cassidy TV shows, concluding in 1954 when he retired except for occasional live appearances, which he continued until his death in 1972. After his passing, Boyd’s widow, actress Grace Bradley, continued to support and promote the Hopalong Cassidy movies until she died on her 97th birthday in 2010” (Cinema Revisited: Hopalong Cassidy (1935), James L. Neibaur).

Hopalong Cassidy movie pressbook.

The Mystery of
the Hooded Horsemen (1937)
Pressbook

In the earliest Ritter films the studios relied on rental horses, but Ritter wanted his own mount and bought White Flash in the hills of Skull Valley, Arizona, from horseman Jerome Eddy. He hired renowned trainer Glenn Randall—who worked with several famous movie horses—to school White Flash for films and personal appearances. The horse appeared with Tex at parades, rodeos, and stage shows, enhancing the sense that audiences were seeing the same star team from the movies. Ritter joked in an interview that fame had gone to White Flash’s head, quipping that “next, I suppose he’ll be wanting script approval,” an indication of how central the horse’s “celebrity” had become to his act. (AI-pulled from Texas History Notebook, B-Westerns).

One funny note: as I read the plot synopsis for the movie–Tex and his sidekick Stubby ride into trouble when hooded riders begin terrorizing the countryside and the local mining operation–I couldn’t stop thinking of that Woody’s Roundup episode in Toy Story 2.

The Mystery of the Hooded Men 1937 pressbook.

Border Brigands (1935) Pressbook

Buck Jones died, tragically, from burns received during the 1942 Cocoanut Grove nightclub fire in Boston, which took hundreds of lives. The club was overcrowded and exit doors were locked. The fire was accelerated by methyl chloride, which was used as a refrigerant, venting from the air conditioning. Highly flammable decorations added to the combustion. The story goes that a busboy struck a match in the dimly lit Melody Lounge to see while he screwed in a lightbulb that had been removed by a soldier wanting more privacy with his date. The busboy blew out the match, but moments later flames started appearing just below the ceiling and quickly spread to the artificial palm trees. The fire spread quickly and patrons overwhelmed the main entrance’s lone revolving door. Other possible exits were either locked or had doors that swung inward, causing deadly pileups. “Following the fire, many new laws were enacted for public establishments, including the banning of flammable decorations, a provision that emergency exits must be kept unlocked (from the inside), and that revolving doors cannot be the only exit.” (Wikipedia)

In the movie, A Christmas Story, the Daisy Red Ryder carbine-action rifle that Ralphie Parker is hoping to get as a Christmas present is actually shown to be the Buck Jones version, with a sundial and compass in the stock. Daisy discontinued the model after Buck Jones’ death.

Border Brigands 1935 with Buck Jones pressbook Border Brigands 1935 with Buck Jones pressbook Border Brigands 1935 with Buck Jones pressbook Border Brigands 1935 with Buck Jones pressbook Border Brigands 1935 with Buck Jones pressbook Border Brigands 1935 with Buck Jones pressbook Border Brigands 1935 with Buck Jones pressbook

The Big Clock (1948) Pressbook

Many noir dramas combine studio simulations with the real thing…John Farrow’s The Big Clock  opens with a panoramic view of New York at night, twinkling splendidly under the titles. After the credits, the camera pans to the right, zooming in on a particular building in the city. As the camera moves in through the window, the film shifts from the real world to one of studio fabrication. (The Dark Side of the Screen: Film Noir, Foster Hirsch)

The Big Clock 1948 pressbook.“Did you ever get to posting that pressbook for The Big Clock?” asked Zombos, lounging on the couch while sipping at his glass of Bicerin.

I, of course, was painstakingly working on this post. I knew deep down that he relished seeing me sweat while he sipped. It was all very annoying, I can tell you. We had been rummaging–rather, he had been stumbling while I had been rummaging–through his vast closet of things. The internet couldn’t hold a candle to it, I assure you. Amazing how many pressbooks he didn’t know he had, forgetting them as he squirreled them away years ago.

“Finishing it up now,” I said, typing away on my laptop.

“Awfully good and different noir, that one,” he said.

“Yes, the opening transition from skyline to inside the building, Charles Laughton as the quirky, stern, and murderous boss, and Elsa Lanchester providing a bit of humor while Ray Milland does that self-deprecating thing with his eyes and his smooth exterior motions as he races against time to prove his innocence while he conducts the search for himself as the guilty party, trapped within that building of cavernous space and stark art deco environs. And through it all, that huge clock, the beating heart of the building and Laughton’s stark character, nicely decked out with glowing dials and levers and buttons, like a control panel from a science fiction movie.”

“Brilliant cast too, with Maureen O’Sullivan, Harry Morgan, George Macready, and the snippet of Noel Neill as the elevator operator.” Zombos followed his comment with a sip, then continued. “Morgan’s omnipresent and sinister henchman is wonderful. Maureen O’Sullivan as the moral compass for Milland’s more questionable character is minimal but still very important. And of course we have the femme fatale played by Rita Johnson, where Milland’s character gets his edges sanded a bit.

I finished the post (obviously, as you are reading it now), and left Zombos lounging as I headed to the kitchen to get Chef Machiavelli to create another one of his Bicerin delight’s for my own lounging. He shouted after me, “after you get your drink, let us watch The Big Clock again.” I strongly recommend you seek out your own Bicerin and sip it while perusing these pressbook pages. And by all means, watch the movie too.

Arizona Days (1937) Pressbook

Glenn Strange (Henchman Pete), known to monsterkids as Universal’s Frankenstein Monster in the 1940s (House of Frankenstein, House of Dracula, Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein), appears here as one of the, well, henchmen. It was Strange’s monster image that made the rounds in 1960s horror merch, not Karloff’s. I remember getting those cool Famous Monsters of Filmland binders with Bela Lugosi’s Dracula and Glenn Strange’s Monster, which greatly established my street cred as a bonafide monsterkid at school. This adventure was produced by Grand National, who, along with Republic and Monogram, produced saddle sore budgeted, formulaic, hour-long B movies for the bottom half of double bills. The double feature, an attraction introduced in the early 1930s to counter the Depression-era box-office slump, was the standard form of exhibition for about 15 years (Britannica AI). Tex Ritter’s films were  designed mainly for rural and small‑town circuits and sold on his country‑music name, so the commercial target was steady but modest. Ritter was a country singer from radio which led to dusty trails on the silver screen. Grand National only lasted a few years. Ritter went on to complete about 70 movies and he became a founding member of the Country Music Association. He sang the haunting ballad, Do Not Forsake Me, Oh My Darlin’, in the Western classic High Noon. It won the Academy Award for Best Original Song. He sang the song, with lyrics by Dimitri Tiomkin, at the awards ceremony.

Arizona Days (1937) PressbookArizona Days (1937) PressbookArizona Days (1937) Pressbook

The Secret 4 (1921) Pressbook

The Secret 4 pressbook is the oldest one I have, so far, for a movie serial. Unfortunately, like many silent-era movies, this one is considered lost as no copy of the film has surfaced. There were 15 chapters of thrilling action, headed by Eddie Polo, who came from a circus family. He had trained in multiple acrobatic disciplines and toured with various circuses. His background, naturally, led to him becoming a stuntman for Universal in 1913. Stardom kicked in early due to his action-oriented appeal. He was the first man to parachute off the Eiffel Tower (IMDb). As his stardom waned with age and the advent of sound, he made due as a makeup artist and trying to get his life story onto film.

Kathleen Myers appeared in 22 movies and played the leading lady in a number of adventure productions (Wikipedia). Perhaps her most remembered role was in Go West with Buster Keaton. She also appeared a few times alongside Oliver Hardy before he teamed up with Stan Laurel.

The Secret 4 pressbook.

Flaming Frontiers (1938) Pressbook

I caught Zombos just as he was falling backwards, thrown off balance by yet another heavy box of movie pressbooks he had squirreled away in his closet, as he lifted with his back, not his legs.

“How many of these do we have tucked away in here,” he mumbled. I disagreed with his use of the word “we.”

“You mean how many of these heavy boxes you have stashed in the closet?” I corrected him. “I’m thinking a lot. Enough to keep you busy way past my death, so there’s a positive note for you right there.”

He gave me that look of his that could peel paint, then opened the box and rummaged through it. “Oh, here it is. I have been meaning to post this one for some time.”

Again with the we.

Flaming Frontiers 1938 movie with John Mack Brown pressbook

Too Late for Tears (1949) Pressbook

“Look, you can’t say she was like an M&M, hard on the outside, soft on the inside. You just can’t, it’s goofy.” I summed it up as best I could, but Zombos wasn’t buying it.

“I fail to see why I cannot say that. It describes Lizabeth Scott’s persona perfectly,” he countered. “And Too Late for Tears shows her  like that, although perhaps much less than her usually less murderous and selfish characters.”

“I’ll admit her low, cigarette-smoke voice, her noirish demeanor, and her small facial movements and that stillness about her add to one alluring, somewhat cool and aloof, possibly dangerous if cornered, character, but she is definitely not like an M&M here. Maybe a Twix, maybe, if you want to  push it for what she plays here.”

He wasn’t buying my Twix take, but he softened up and we moved on. Shot around Los Angeles landmarks and at Republic Studios, the movie, which may have been a box office keeper or a sleeper depending on the source you were reading, had Dan Duryea playing his perfectly nasty role, Don DeFore before he hired a maid in Hazel, and Kristine Miller, a veteran of westerns and noirs. Lest I forget, Arthur Kennedy lent his mug and gravitas too. The story is typical noir: an accidental event leads to intentional murder. What would you do if someone tossed a bag of money into your car and sped off?

“Okay, what if, instead of an M&M, I say she was like a Choco No No instead?” said Zombos, sparking the argument again. It was going to be a long night.

 

Too Late for Tears 1949 pressbook.

The Painted Stallion (1937) Pressbook

This 12-chapter Western serial, filmed by Republic Pictures, was the directorial debut of William Witney, who continued directing serials including Dick Tracey Returns, G-Men vs. the Black Dragon, Drums of Fu Manchu, and others. After Republic, he went on to direct movies for American International Pictures and Associated Producers Incorporated as well as television (he directed episodes of The Wild Wild West series). Quentin Tarantino called him “one of the greatest action directors in the history of the business.” (The New Beverly Cinema)

In the Valley of the Cliffhangers, author Jack Mathis alludes to what might have been, storywise:

Given the story for screen adaptation, writers Barry Shipman and Winston Miller perceived Evart’s [Hal G. Evart] creation in a different and extraordinary light during their work on a novel first treatment in 1936 between November 21 and 24. Based on the premise of the painted stallion as a werehorse, the scripters envisioned a lycanthropic fantasy in which legend stated that the stallion–symbol of man–could be either horse or man and was impervious to bullets. The studio, however, decided against this whimsical approach, and following the Thanksgiving holiday Shipman and Miller wrote the final screenplay from an alternate scenario developed several months earlier by Morgan Cox and Ronald Davidson.

 

The Painted Stallion (1937) Pressbook

Zorro Rides Again (1937) Pressbook

Zorro Rides Again is Republic’s 12-part serial that mixes the slugfests, cliffhangers, dangerous stunts, and derring-do in a 1930s-modern actioner. Yakima Canutt goes all out to deliver the thrills. In one famous gag he transfers from saddle to moving truck, which looks smooth onscreen, but any misstep would have led to serious injury or death. Moving from horse to speeding train, no problem either. One gag for a cliffhanger had his foot caught in a track switch with a train heading in, closer and closer. His whip-work snags the track switch and disaster averted just in time. His straight-from-the-shoulder punches are also a highlight, as well as those taking them on the receiving end, making it look exceptionally punchy. Canutt did all the heavy lifting for John Carroll who played Zorro. With the mask on, Canutt could do the action scenes, saving Carroll from calamity and bruises. Duncan Reynaldo provided the comedy relief bits. Reynaldo played the Cisco Kid on television from 1950 to 1956, with filming done at Pioneer Town, California. Zorro Rides Again filmed at Bronson Canyon, the Iverson Movie Ranch, and other locations. Some shooting also took place in Cochilla, Mexico.

zorro rides again 1937 pressbook

Under Strange Flags (1937) Pressbook

Tom Keene had a flexible career in cowboy movies, where he appeared as different cowpokes, bucking the trend of a single persona like Tom Mix or Roy Rogers. From cowboys to more upper and lower scale movies, he changed his name to Richard Powers in the 1940s and played Colonel Tom Edwards in Plan 9 From Outer Space, and a major general in Red Planet Mars. He did a lot of television work appearing in Adventures of Superman and Death Valley Days. He even found time to do Broadway in the 1940s. Not one to be pegged to any one role or genre, he eventually retired from acting in the late 1950s and hawked insurance and real estate. Luana Walters also had a busy career, starring in movie serials like Shadow of Chinatown with Bela Lugosi, Superman, and Captain Midnight. She starred with Bela Lugosi again in The Corpse Vanishes as the feisty reporter. Her last movie role was in The She-Creature in 1956.

Under Strange Flags Tom Keene 1937 Under Strange Flags Tom Keene 1937 Under Strange Flags Tom Keene 1937 Under Strange Flags Tom Keene 1937 Under Strange Flags Tom Keene 1937