Sunday, September 3, 2017

Decades of Horror: The Classic Era (&) Now Playing -- Two Podcasts You Can't Live Without

As in you might actually stop living if you don't listen to these casts on at least a semi-regular basis. Now that's a serious sounding statement (woo, three s words in a row!), and I'm not trying to scare anyone unnecessarily by saying it, but you gotta trust me when I tell you I really do have your best interest at heart here.

Now here's the thing: I used to listen to a whole lot of podcasts. Then, as life got busier, I listened to fewer (and fewer, and fewer still), until one day I woke up and realized I wasn't much of a podcast listener anymore at all. Except for these two. These podcasts just aren't give-up-able no matter how busy a fellow gets. So I'm doing the right thing, and pointing them out loud to you, so you can then do the right thing. (And listen to them. That's your Right Thing in this scenario.)

And in case you were wondering, "pointing out loud" is a combination of "pointing out" and "saying right out loud"--as in I am not even whispering this quietly from the shadows. Nope, this is loud and proud, boldly-stated Advice for Better Living, right here. These are both fantastic podcasts that no deadmans regular-stopper-by-er, or even one-time-passerby-er, should be trying to struggle through life without--it's just not necessary. Life can be challenging enough without missing out on amazing genre movie podcasts to boot, amiright?

So then. Our first must-have is most appropriately titled Decades of Horror: The Classic Era.

Now this is an amaz-ulous (so amazing as to make one incredulous, natch) 1960s and earlier horror film dissection reminiscence podcast, and it's part of Gruesome Magazine's larger Decades of Horror lineup.

Said lineup also includes podcasts devoted to 70s, 80s and 90s horror, respectively. But the Classic Era cast is far and away my favorite. (The 70s cast does take a very reasonable second place, in my mind. If you're wondering.) A lot of parentheses going on here today, aren't there? (Aren't there?) (And italics, too!) (And exclamation points!!)

Okay. Back to the podcast. It's hosted by four groovy souls who are obviously nuts about old horror films, and each of 'em brings a unique and enjoyable perspective to their every-other-week discussions. Here's who they are, shamelessly copied and pasted from their bios at Gruesome Magazine):
Chad Hunt is The Art Director and Copy Editor for Gruesome Magazine quarterly print edition. He is also a comic book artist and writer whose credits include work for Marvel, DC, Image, Dark Horse and various independent companies. A lifelong horror fan, Chad cut his horror teeth on Universal monsters and Kaiju as a kid and hasn't looked back. Also infamously known for playing Black Sabbath riffs on the guitar at an unholy volume.

Erin Miskell is a horror fan that hails from the Western New York region. A love of Poe at a young age turned into exposure to Vincent Price, which lead to a deep love of classic horror films. International horror from France and South East Asia has become a staple of her diet, which mixes well with her tendency to gravitate toward shlock horror and comedy. Erin loves to analyze films and their meanings, and does so at her site, The Backseat Driver Reviews (www.thebackseatdriverreviews.com). When not watching or writing about film, you can find her listening to music and spending time with her children.

Jeff Mohr lives smack dab in the middle of the cornfields of Iowa and is a long time horror fan. His first remembered encounters with the genre were The Wizard of Oz, Tarzan gorilla chases, and watching the first broadcast of The Twilight Zone episode, “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge.” While he now qualifies as an old fart, he strives to be an “Old Boy.” Paraphrasing Robert Bloch, he has the heart of a small boy. He keeps it in a jar on his desk. Jeff has written for Horrornews.net and SQ Horror Magazine and co-hosted the SQ Bloodlines podcast. He currently writes for Gruesome Magazine and is co-host of the Decades of Horror The Classic Era and 1970s podcasts.

Joseph Perry’s formative years were spent watching classic monster movies (starting with "The Creature from the Black Lagoon" and "Godzilla Vs. the Thing") and TV series (starting with "The Twilight Zone" and "Outer Limits"), Bob Wilkins’ "Creature Features" and Roy Shires’ Big Time Wrestling (two northern California legends); reading Silver Age and Bronze Age Gold Key, Dell, Charlton, Marvel, and DC comics; and writing mimeographed newsletters about the original "Planet of the Apes" film and TV series. More recently, he has written for "Filmfax" magazine, is the foreign correspondent reporter for the "Horror News Radio" podcast, and is a regular contributing writer to "Phantom of the Movies’ VideoScope" magazine, occasionally proudly co-writing articles with his son Cohen Perry, who is a film critic in his own right. A former northern Californian and Oregonian, Joseph has been teaching, writing, and living in South Korea since 2008.
Not sure what I can add to those bios, other than to tell you these folks all have serious heart: they obviously love and care about what they're doing and they all show up as real, which reflects extremely well on the cast they're putting out. Oh, and they're having a blast while doing it. That's pretty darn apparent, too.

Now, the podcast itself is fairly new--just started in January of 2017--and the group is only sixteen (seventeen if you count their introductory "Episode Zero," which is well worth a listen) episodes in as of this writing. But what a set of episodes! Take a look at the films these folks've covered so far:
Psycho (1960)
Man-eater of Hydra (1967)
Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954)
King Kong (1933)
The Tingler (1959)
IT! (1967)
The Thing From Another World (1951)
Freaks (1932)
The Queen of Spades (1949)
The Last Man on Earth (1964)
The Mummy (1932)
Village of the Damned (1960)
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920)
Bride of Frankenstein (1935)
Night of the Living Dead (1968)
Half Human (Jû jin yuki otoko) (1955)
So out of sixteen movies, that's a 20s, four 30s, a 40s, four 50s, and six 60s, so far. A pretty decent decade-spread, as well as a nice mix of well-knowns versus not-so-wells. Depending on the movie, you'll be listening to the group lovingly knock, reverently pay tribute to, unashamedly geek out over and generally dig right to the bone every behind and in-front-of camera thing-to-be-known-that-can-be-known. Great Stuff.

So yeah. That's the first podcast I flat out make time to listen to. (AND YOU CAN TOO.) So worth a more than casual listen.

And now you're wondering what's the other podcast is that I just can't give up? Well I'm glad you asked. It's this one:

Now Playing is not a new podcast. In fact, they've been around for ten years and have... I don't know, hundreds of episodes in their archives--close to a thousand, I'd guess. They specialize in retrospectives of entire genre film series right across the board--horror, action, sci-fi, superhero, you name it. Endless movies to choose from at this place.

If you've always wanted to hear in-depth discussions of all four Jaws films (that's the Google search that turned me onto these guys in the first place), or coverage of every Planet of the Apes film from 1968 to present, or just wished somebody would talk about those besmirched 1970s Marvel TV movies you love so much but can hardly sit through these days, these folks are gonna be your go-to's.

Who are they? Well, the crew can change depending on which series is being covered, but the three guys you're most likely to hear are these (who's bios are also shamelessly copied and pasted in from their own website):
Arnie graduated with a standard liberal-arts degree in Communications where he studied filmmaking, TV and Radio production, and creative writing.  His papers and projects usually involved Freddy or Jason, and his Senior Thesis was a literary deconstruction of Clive Barker's Imajica. In 2005 Arnie took that background along with his web design skills and entered Podcasting with the award-winning Star Wars Action News - the first podcast dedicated to Star Wars collecting.  From there he created more podcasts including Now Playing, the book review podcast Books & Nachos, and the Marvel toy collecting podcast Marvelicious Toys. Along that way he has interviewed celebrities including Robert Downey Jr., Samuel L. Jackson, Keenan Thompson, and Robert Englund,  He has traveled across the country and to Germany to present on Star Wars collectibles and podcasting. You can read his random thoughts on Twitter at @thearniec. Favorite Movies: Star Wars: A New Hope, The Professional, A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: The Dream Warriors, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, Guardians of the Galaxy, Its a Wonderful Life.

Contrary to his on-air nickname, Stuart is not a native of Los Angeles or even California.  He was born in Atlanta, GA, and grew up just a few blocks from fellow host Arnie in central Illinois. Friends since the second grade, Stuart and Arnie have launched several unusual business ventures prior to their collaboration on Now Playing Podcast:  detective agency, breakdancing crew, 80s synth pop band, and they are the original creators of Star Wars: Episode VII (suck it, JJ!!). Stuart attended Columbia College Chicago with the goal of one day being able to apply his Film Studies degree to slasher movie sequels and comic book-based television shows from the 1970s.  He has lived in Los Angeles since the early 2000s. Stuart joined Now Playing Podcast in 2008 as a special guest co-host for The Midnight Meat Train and Star Wars: The Clone Wars.  He became a full-time host when Now Playing debuted the Friday the 13th Retrospective Series in 2009. In addition to his hosting duties, Stuart is responsible for scheduling Now Playing review, and he co-founded the Books & Nachos podcast, dedicated to reviewing all forms of print media. Favorite Movies: Silence of the Lambs, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Alien, Network.

Jakob wrote his first screenplay at age 7 after seeing Raiders of the Lost Ark.  A few years later he wrote his second screenplay after seeing Die Hard. They were terrible scripts, because they were written by a child. Jakob currently spends his time finding cultural significance in exploitation films, feeling clueless every time he attempts to get into French New Wave cinema, and obsessing over the Step Up franchise. Favorite Movies: 2001: A Space Odyssey, Robocop (1987), Fight Club, Step Up 3, The Royal Tenenbaums.
These guys have great on-air chemistry, and it's a blast-and-a-half to listen to the same group of folks covering what can sometimes amount to decades across a particular film franchise, comparing changes in directors, actors, script quality, and so on.

The vast majority of their current and archived stuff is free, but you can also donate to hear additional premium podcasts, and buy access to the older premium stuff they keep in their vault. Both current and vault premium podcasts are reasonably priced, and I've yet to shell out my cash and be disappointed.

So just for fun, here's a list of the various retrospectives the group has done to date. Now, keep in mind, each of these retrospectives includes multiple films, and they also have a ton of one-off casts not listed here.... (And again, just for fun, I've bolded the series I've already had the pleasure of listening to.)
2001 and 2010 Space Odyssey
28 Days/Weeks Later
Alien
Avengers
Avengers - Some Assembly Required
Back to the Future
Bad Boys
Batman
Battle Royale
Before.... Films
Black Christmas
Blade
Blair Witch Project
Bourne
Carrie
Catwoman
Child's Play
Children of the Corn
Christopher Nolan
Conjuring
Creepshow
Daredevil & Elektra
Dark Tower
DC Heroes
DC Hitmen
DC Movie Universe
DC Teams
Demons
Die Hard
Different Seasons - Stephen King's Novellas
Dune
Evil Dead
Exorcist
Fantastic Four
Fast and the Furious
Final Destination
Firestarter
Fly
Friday the 13th
Fright Night
G.I. Joe
Ghost Rider
Ghostbusters
Green Lantern
Gremlins
Halloween
Hannibal Lecter
Hellboy
Horror Films of 1986
Hulk
Human Centipede
Hunger Games
Independence Day
Indiana Jones
Insidious
James Bond
Jaws
John Wick
Jurassic Park
Karate Kid
Kingsman
Lawnmower Man
Leprechaun
Living Dead
Living Dead Official Remakes
Lord of the Rings
Lord of the Rings Animated
Lost Boys
Machete
Mad Max
Mangler
Maniac
Martin Scorsese / Leonardo DiCaprio
Marvel Comics Misfits
Matrix
Men in Black
Mission: Impossible
Nightmare on Elm Street
Ocean's Eleven
Pet Sematary
Philip K Dick
Pirates of the Caribbean
Planet of the Apes
Poltergeist
Predator
Psycho
Punisher
Quentin Tarantino
Rambo
Re-Animator
Resident Evil
Return of the Living Dead
Riddick
Rob Zombie's House of 1000 Corpses & The Devil's Rejects
Robocop
Rocky
Salem's Lot
Saw
Sci-Fi Summer of 1986
Scream
Shining
Short Circuit
Silent Night, Deadly Night
Simon Pegg / Nick Frost
Sinister
Sometimes They Come Back
Speed Racer
Spider-Man
Spirit
Star Trek
Star Wars
Stephen King Night Shift
Steven Spielberg Alien Films
Superman
Swamp Thing
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Terminator
Texas Chainsaw Massacre
Thing From Another World
Trainspotting
Transformers
Transporter
Troll
Tron
Trucks
Twin Peaks
Westworld / Futureworld
Wild at Heart
Wonder Woman
X-Files
X-Men
 And that's it.

Decades of Horror: The Classic Era, and Now Playing.

Go forth and listen.

Sunday, August 6, 2017

Jaws: How big was that shark? (Part 2) (woo!)

This is what happens when you're me: you're going about your business (as one does), and you get notified of a new comment on your first "How big was that shark?" post (in which you geeked out, tracking down shark sizes in all the Jaws movies and novels). So you take a look, and the guy is wondering about the size of the shark on the paperback cover/movie poster. Then you look back at the other comment (two comments on a post is pretty hoppin' around here) and you realize that guy was curious about the poster shark's size, too.

And that gets you to thinking. 

So, you start poking around the internet, seeing what you can see on the subject. (Not much.) You try some image searches. (Nothing.) And then all of a sudden it's hours later and you're looking at a bunch of new graphics you cobbled together and those hours are gone forever.

But. You know how big the shark was.

And that makes it all worth it.

So here's what happened: the short(ish) version of the story.

Everybody knows Benchley's Book Shark was twenty feet long, and Spielberg's Movie Shark was twenty five (three tons of him). But the iconic painting used for both paperback and movie? Well, we only ever saw the head, but no chance that beast was only twenty feet long. Thing looks to be whale-sized! So, how big would it be if we could see "the head, the tail, the whole damn thing"? (See what I did there, sneaky Quint reference?)

Well. Nothing out there that I could find on how big this famous fish of Roger Kastel's would be if we were seeing more than just its head: No wonderings, no guess work, no sketches, no nothing. So, I took it upon myself.

First off, I ended up making use of a shark image I found through a Google image search, done by a digital artist who goes by the username of polterizer. I didn't exactly ask his permission first, 'cause I was on a roll, but I'm really hoping he thinks that what I did with his image is as cool as I think it is, and won't take issue with usage. But if he does (I'll try contacting him through the forum I found the image on), I'll take this post down and possibly-but-not-likely redo it later with another shark image, if I can find another one that works. (When you see his image, you'll know what I mean--it's perfect for what we're doin' here.)

Okay. So I started with the image below, adapted from the famous painting we all know and love. (Technically it's not the painting, as that was originally done in a portrait format. This landscape-formatted deal I'm assuming is something somebody's Photoshopped together for an admittedly nice panoramic effect. But you get the gist--same Chrissie and same shark here as the original.)


Now this tells us two things--how big Chrissie (the nude swimmer from the book/movie) is, and how big the shark's head is. Not terribly helpful, and something we've all been staring at for decades without the full shark's size magically becoming apparent to us. What we need is a shark body to go with that head. (Right?)

But first things first, let's get Chrissie turned around so she's pointed along the shark's length, and then position her so her toes are right at the tip of its nose. Chrissie will be our measuring stick.


Now the question becomes how long is Chrissie, in this painting, from toe to tip of outstretched hand? Glad you asked. Susan Backlinie is five foot eight, according to IMDB. (Now I know, Susan played Chrissie in the movie, and the painting was done well before the movie was out, so how can we assume Painting-Chrissie is the same size as Movie-Chrissie?) We can't, but I'm going to.

Here's what happened in my head for this part: Chrissie is five-eight standing flat-footed on the ground. But here, she's got her feet and arms outstretched, 'cause she's swimming, and that's gonna add to her overall height/length. So I checked my own feet: stretched out on the couch, one foot flat and the other pointy-toed. The pointy foot stretched out an inch more than my phone is long (phones make good rulers), making pointy-toed foot about 6 inches longer. But of course I have man feet and Chrissie doesn't, so I'm just giving her four inches for her pointy-toed swimming feet.

Then I measured my wife's and my forearms (she's always happy to help with experiments like this) from elbow to fingertips. Hers was 14 inches and mine was almost seventeen. Let's put Chrissie's between the two of ours, at 16 inches. But. In the painting her arm's not totally stretched out--her elbow's a little crooked and her fingers curl in a bit, so with that I'm giving her 12 inches for the arm.

Right. So that makes Chrissie 5 feet 8 inches, add four inches for her outstretched feet, and 12 inches for the outstretched arm. That makes her seven feet from toes to fingertips in this painting. (I just said it so it must be true.) Now we need a shark body to measure our yardstick against.

And that's right where polterizer's perfect shark image comes in. Take a look:


Look familiar at all?

Try turning it ninety degrees to your right....


Well, well! Suddenly quite reminiscent of a certain movie poster shark we're all familiar with!

Now, watch this....


Not a perfect match, I know, but pretty darn close. Kastel's shark has an exaggerated (per paperback cover/movie poster rules) jaw and outsized teeth, so it looks a tiny bit odd pasted over a much more realistically rendered shark, but the general torpedo shape of head and body come together quite nicely and I think what we have here is a reasonable depiction of what we might have seen if Kastel had kept on painting downward, back in the day.

So let's take our 7 foot Chrissie-Ruler and do us some measurin'.


Voila! Looks like seven Chrissies, toe to fingertip, with a bit of tail left over. Seven times seven is 49 feet, and let's give that bit of tail at the bottom... say, 3 feet... for a grand total of:

FIFTY TWO GUT-CRUNCHING FEET OF GREAT WHITE DEATH

And that's my official take on how big the Jaws movie poster shark is.

You're welcome.

By the way, I still haven't heard back from the maker of that image I used here, but I did track down his actual name (Carlos Parmentier) and website. You can see more of his shark (and lots of other stuff) there. Pretty groovy.

Saturday, May 27, 2017

Carnivores (1993) by Penelope Banka Kreps



THEY'RE BACK TO KILL!



Okay, I totally thought my next post would be something about King Kong, but here I am, talking about Carnivores instead. That happens sometimes. A lot, actually--thinking I'm going to be writing about one thing and then writing about some other thing, I mean. Don't worry, King Kong will have his day in court. I'm not sure what I mean by that. Oh. Sure I am. I mean the KK post is already in process and on the way, but this one seemed to want to jump in ahead, so I'm letting it.)

Wow. That was terribly, terribly rambl-y and digression-y. But that's the kind of thing that goes on in my head when I don't censor. Then again, if I did a better job censoring (here in these hallowed halls), my posts would all run about three sentences long. And where'd be the fun in that?

Anyway, no King Kong today, but we do have several prehistoric (mostly non-carnivorous) beasts, and they are BACK TO KILL! At least, so says the novel's front cover. Really, they're just back to breed and live out their lives in relative peace as far from human beings as possible. But peaceful living far away from humans does not sell books, does it, and so what we have here in this book is a clear-cut case of "Robin Brown's Megalodon Syndrome."

What's that? You say you've never even heard of that syndrome? Well, you can read about it here.

Yep. This is another one of those what-if-boringly-genuine-and-realistic-people-happened-to-run-across-boringly-genuine-and-realistic-prehistoric-animals stories that, in an attempt to gain more sales, IS MASQUERADING as a blood-and-guts-dinosaur-runs-amock story. Probably marketed as such with little or no input from its author, if my guess is right. So. I think I might've just said all I have to say about the book, right there in those previous two sentences.

Psssh, that's never true. I always find something to say, even if it ends up being only marginally related (and sometimes downright unrelated).

So. The first thing I noticed with this book was what looks to be a garden variety crocodile on the cover. (It's definitely not the prehistoric croc described in-story.) Naturally I figured it was a killer crocodile novel, which genre I'm not generally into, and I almost put it back down. But then a glance at the back cover told me it was not a killer croc on front, but (evidently) some kind of prehistoric killer croc. "Okay," I thought, " the prehistoric angle makes it worth a few hours of my time." And into the book bag it went.

So now, between the book's cover image and back cover blurb, I'm thinking: multiple prehistoric crocodilians running amuck in the everglades, due to some kind of earthquake thingie that lets them all out of the ancient underground cavern they've been living in all these eons. But then I read the inside front cover blurb (neither it or the back cover blurb were written by the author, as was apparent after I started reading the actual novel) and there's a vaguely described elephantine creature with a spiked tail lopping someone's head off. Doesn't sound at all like a crocodile to me, and now I'm confused. But I keep reading, 'cause at the very least, cover art and blurbs have set me up for some kind of prehistoric animal attack bloodbath.

But that isn't what I ended up getting. What I got was more or less a lower grade Jurassic Park (novel, not movie) clone, with fleshed out, reasonably intelligent characters encountering natural and realistically portrayed prehistoric animals. Not a lot of deaths to be had, and those that did occur were along the lines of "got too close to the nest and its protective momma" or "surprised and frightened the usually peaceful herbivore, which then attacked." Not much in this book in the way of "bone-crushing jaws and blood-dripping teeth" or beasts "hungry for the sweet taste of a new kind of prey called humans," as that back cover would have me believe.

So the plot of the book is basically that, due to some kind of fuzzy sci-fi novel science, regular everglade animals are giving birth to their de-evolutionized prehistoric ancestors, along with a couple subplots around modern folks who's minds (but not bodies) are reverting to a primitive state due to the same fuzzy science that has dinosaurs physically hatching from alligator's and bird's eggs, and a lost tribe who's been hanging out (undetected) in the everglades for thousands of years. The cause behind all these dinosaurs and caveman mentalities has nothing at all to do with earth tremors, or caverns, or any such thing. Near as I could tell, the cause was due to solar radiation and the ozone layer and recessive genes shared by both animals and humans. Along those lines, anyway.

Overall, this is a decently written story, that's awfully short on people running for their lives from hideously aggressive prehistoric mutants. So the brain count the book ends up with reflects it being decently written, with points lost for not being what it's marketed as. (Again! How many times will you do this to me, Paperback Novel Gods?!)

Anyway. The official brain count is:

TWO AND A HALF ALLIGATOR EGG BRAINS

Yeah. So I couldn't find a thing on the woman who wrote this story, other than that she wrote another book the year before for the same publisher. I'm reasonably sure the author really is named Penelope Kreps, due to that being an unusual name and my Google search bringing up someone with the name living/having lived in Florida where the novel takes place. But there's not much information to be had other than that she exists. I wonder if she published anything else, under other names. I'm always curious about these things.

Oh. In case you were wondering, the book at least mentions the following beasties as it goes along:

Mentioned and seen in passing....

I think one nonfatal encounter with these guys.

We see these a fair bit. They're probably as close to a main antagonist as it gets.

Seen in passing-- I wish there'd been even a little killer Dunk-action!

See these fellas a couple times. One kills a guy.

These are just mentioned (as cubs) in the epilogue's zinger.

Here's the other main-ish creature. One kill, I think, but mostly
we're watching scientists go all doe-eyed over captured babies.

And that's it. Hopefully something King Kong-esque next time. And I really want to get back to the Bionics in Miniature soon....

Friday, March 24, 2017

Doc Savage Covered (1936)


(1933) (1934) (1935) (1936) (1937) (1938) (1939) (1940) (1941) (1942) (1943) (1944) (1945) (1946) (1947) (1948) (1949)


To the world at large, Doc Savage is a strange, mysterious figure of glistening bronze skin and golden eyes. To his amazing co-adventurers--the five greatest brains ever assembled in one group--he is a man of superhuman strength and protean genius, whose life is dedicated to the destruction of evil-doers. To his fans he is the greatest adventure hero of all time, whose fantastic exploits are unequaled for hair-raising thrills, breathtaking escapes and blood-curdling excitement.




Alrighty then. Continuing on with the Doc Savage covers:

If you've seen my previous posts, you know I'm going through all 181 Street & Smith pulps (by year of pulp publication) and the corresponding Bantam reprints. Both sets have some fantabulous artwork, and visually comparing stories across a thirty to sixty year publication gap is pretty extremely cool. (The pulps were originally published between 1933 and 1949, and the reprints between 1964 and 1990.)

So. Emery Clarke and Walter Baumhofer painted the lion's share of the pulp covers, and James Bama and Bob Larkin did most of the paperback artwork. (And of course, Lester Dent did most of the writing.) As I go through the covers, I try to point out the first time a new artist or author is showing up, so you have at least some idea of who did what and when. The first timers are mentioned either directly in my commentary, or (if I'm feeling lazy) by attaching a link you can follow for more on-your-own-delving-in-ness.

The plot blurbs you're seeing for each book are from the reprints--the pulps had these quick little three or four word jobs on their covers, and slightly longer ones inside under the story's title, but nothing as blurb-tastic as the reprints came up with later. I do believe though, and the two actual pulps I own bear this out, the pulps would generally tie in the upcoming month's story at the end of the current one (in an effort to get readers back to the newsstands, I guess). I'm assuming those end-of-story blurbs were left off of the reprints because they weren't being published in the same order as the pulps had been.

Let's see.... As far as personal commentary goes, I'm not doing a ton of it for each cover, but whenever something catches my fancy, I (usually can't help but) mention it. You can click through most covers to see larger versions, using the browser's back button or a keyboard shortcut to get yourself back to the full post. And as far as image size goes, I've had complete cover scans of both sets for years, but they're from quite awhile back and come across as being a little on the small side these days.

Basically, they looked great on an 800x600 monitor (remember those?), but not so much at today's resolutions. So, I'm trying to replace them with higher-res images as we go along. But if you click through and find no joy (frowney face!), you know I couldn't get my hands on either a physical copy of the book or find a higher-res image online, and resorted to one of my older low-res scans for that cover.

Okay then. More than enough prelude. Let's get to it!



Murder Mirage (January 1936 and November 1972) by Lawrence Donovan

A blizzard in July and a woman's image is frozen in glass -- how could these bizarre events possibly be connected? To find the answer and save the life of Ranyon Cartheris, the Man of Bronze and his dauntless allies journey to hot desert sands halfway round the world, where they are trapped -- perhaps never to emerge -- in the ancient underground tombs of Tasunan.

Artist: Walter Baumhofer

Artist: Fred Pfeiffer

First thing you might notice is I'm trying a different layout with the covers. And while I mightily prefer having the images side-by-side, Blogger just as mightily prefers I put them one below another. The only way for me to get them side-by-side is to do a lot of time-consuming-behind-the-scenes-manual-editing-of-code, and I just was not up to it this time around. So we'll see how this above/below thing sits with me for a bit, then I'll decide if I want to hassle with the other layout for future posts. I guess the up side to this layout is I can make each image a little bigger by default than I can when they're side-by-side. Either way, clicking through (almost) always gets you a larger cover to gander at.

Second thing you might notice is Lawrence Donovan standing in for Lester Dent on several of the stories this year, including this first one. We first ran across Donovan in 1935s post and you can read up on him there (if you're so inclined).

Okay, on to the covers.

So this pulp cover is pretty groovy, I think. What I mean is, it's an intriguing scene--how could you not part with a dime in your effort to find out what the heck's going on with the whole glass shadow woman thing? I mean, is that really all that's left of a real live person? Creepy!

I'm guessing it's Doc and Renny we're seeing removing the pane (the "murder shadow" of the story) on the cover, although in the story they were both hooded and goggled when they did that. Better a cover shows you it's leading men than not though, right? Even though this cover's not especially dynamic or action-packed, its what-the-hell-is-going-on-here factor is roof-high and it pulls you in. At least it does me. Nicely done.

And that reprint cover is another Fred Pfeiffer painting. (.....) You know, I came into this series of posts already an avowed Bama fan (and I definitely still meet spec there), but I've been really coming to appreciate Pfeiffer's more painterly style as well. The guy knew how to set a mood, and the cover here just oozes danger and foreboding. Huh. "oozes" is always a weird word to me, 'cause in my head it automatically includes the phrase "pus-filled boils" alongside it. That's gross, so I'm trying to branch out with it and hopefully it'll start to carry some other, less pustulant associations. Ack! Pustulant is a gross word, too! (.....) Probably "radiates" is a better word to use here, anyway. I digress.

Both nice covers overall, but the pulp's sense of intrigue sets it above, for me.



Mystery Under the Sea (February 1936 and August 1968) by Lester Dent

There was only one clue to the bloody enigma of TAZ -- the illegible, dying scrawl of a horribly mutilated sailor. What was the message he had so desperately tried to deliver? Why had sizzling acid been forced into his mouth? What secret had the dead man unraveled about the flamboyant and brutal Captain Flamingo? Held captive aboard a tramp steamer, The Man of Bronze and his bold allies wrestle with the dread riddle of Taz.

Artist: Walter Baumhofer

Artist: James Bama

Artist: Walter Baumhofer

Forced to drink acid?! Yikes. That's brutal. So, I tossed in the pulp's original painting, here. I think it's fun to compare differences in tone (usually the originals are noticeably brighter), and a lot of times covers are cropped down quite a bit from the original artwork (not the case here). I'm not actually seeking the paintings out, as I go through these posts, but when one jumps out at me during an image search, I'm just as like to throw it in as not.

Anyway. Both these covers are pretty sedate. I think the plot in this one revolved around bad guys breathing underwater or some such thing, which is why nobody's wearing an air tank in either scene. Gotta say I prefer Bama's take over Baumhofer's, just on mood alone. You'd think BamaDoc would at least take those boots off, the way BaumhoferDoc did, before jumping into the ocean.



The Metal Master (March 1936 and January 1973) by Lester Dent

The Metal Master exists and will destroy the world! To stop him, the Man of Bronze and his daring friends launch a search for the source of his amazing power -- and find themselves trapped on a sandy deserted island with the Metal Master himself!

Artist: Walter Baumhofer

Artist: Fred Pfeiffer

Hah. The first line of that blurb makes me laugh. Of course the Metal Master exists; how could he (plan to) destroy the world if he didn't? "The Metal Master does not exist and will therefore be unable to destroy the world!" just wouldn't have the same ring to it at all. (.....) Well of course it wouldn't, it would have the opposite ring. Digressing again.

Hey, PulpDoc is actually wearing something pretty close to BantamDoc's go-to outfit, here. That's cool. Have we seen that before? (...looking back through previous posts...) Hmm. Meteor Menace might be showing something similar, but I don't think we've clearly seen the long sleeved shirt/riding breeches/military boots combo from Baumhofer until right now. Makes me wonder where and how Bantam even came up with their idea for their Doc's standard outfit. Story's gotta be out there somewhere.

Anyway. Parachuting down, mid-air with damsel in arms, is a pretty cool visual. It pretty much screams adventure (it's hurting my ears!). Huh. Are they supposed to be landing, and those are divots being thrown up by bullets hitting the ground, or is it a cloud they're dropping into. That plane in the background makes me think they're up higher, but.... No, it's the ground--you can see their shadows underneath them. Although clouds can cast shadows and have shadows cast onto them, too.

...I don't know.

More Fred for the reprint, and an iconic Doc pose, at that. I really like the retro gadgetry behind him, too. Reminds me of Colin Clive's lab. (It's alive!)

So, does anyone else think of this guy when they see this particular Doc title?


No? Just me? Hmm....



The Men Who Smiled No More (April 1936 and February 1970) by Lawrence Donovan

It started with a senseless murder. Then it spread -- all over New York men were becoming robot-like automatons without emotions. The Man of Bronze went into action. But even Doc Savage was stricken helpless before he solved the terrifying menace of The Death's Head Grin!

Artist: Walter Baumhofer

Artist: James Bama

The pulp cover here is... adequate. A decent enough painting, but it's not inspiring me to uphold the Doc Savage code* or anything. Gotta say, the reprint beats out the original here--that's a great Bama cover. I wonder if that's Monk and some of the other aides behind Bama's Doc. That fellow to the left looks pretty Monk-like, but I haven't read the book recently enough to remember if this cover reflects an actual scene from the story or not. If so, it's nice to see a reprint cover doing an in-story scene; so few of 'em do. Inverse to what the pulps do.

Mostly, these two covers make me think that while PulpDoc may generally have been easier on his shirts, he had a tougher time keeping his hair combed that BantamDoc ever did. You're with me on that, right? (There's no question.) Supposedly, Doc (often) wore a bulletproof hair-like skullcap over his real hair. Maybe BantamDoc's phenomenally obedient mane is a reflection of that fact.

Lets just say it's true....

*The Code of Doc Savage
  1. Let me strive, every moment of my life, to make myself better and better, to the best of my ability, that all may profit by it.
  2. Let me think of the right, and lend all my assistance to those who need it, with no regard for anything but justice.
  3. Let me take what comes with a smile, without loss of courage.
  4. Let me be considerate of my country, of my fellow citizens and my associates in everything I say and do.
  5. Let me do right to all, and wrong no man.

(In case you wuz wundrin'.)



The Seven Agate Devils (May 1936 and March 1973) by Lester Dent

Murder on an international scale was being committed by a sinister mastermind. His method -- an unusual, unescapable form of death. His trademark -- a small statuette next to the corpse. The Man of Bronze and his fearless friends do battle with the thieving, murderous spawn from Hell -- and become marked men themselves!

Artist: Walter Baumhofer

Artist: Fred Pfeiffer

Oh, hey. I actually just reread this one a few weeks ago. (As you can imagine, these stories are all pretty quick reads, so it's never a huge time commitment, and you're never out much if you happen to have picked one of the more mediocre adventures.) This one was pretty much right down the middle for me: not one of the best or worst. Decent and solid.

Anyway, I really like the pulp cover, here. It falls under the "not action packed but intriguing" category in the Deadman Pulp Cover Categorization System. (No, that system doesn't really exist. But it might someday.) This is the path my eyes follow when I look at the pulp: Doc's Grim Visage > Little Red Devil Statue > Eye Bulgy Horrifying Death Face > Hey, What's in That Case?

Kinda shivery, that bulgy-eye. You never wanna die is any way that results in postmortem bulgy-eye. Trust me.

Also, in spite of my earlier Fred-praise, I can't say his cover does a ton for me, this time around. Can't win 'em all, Fred. Is the hooded guy supposed to be holding a red devil statue, there? I can't tell, with the dark tone and all the smoke. Maybe the original art was clearer.



Haunted Ocean (June 1936 and August 1970) by Lawrence Donovan

An awesome power haunts the sea, paralyzes New York City and brings the most powerful nations of the world to their knees. Deep in the frozen Arctic an astonishing army of naked men and the forces of international greed challenge the invincible Man of Bronze for the strange secret of the so-called Man of Peace!

Artist: Walter Baumhofer

Artist: James Bama

Is that a harpoon in Doc's shoulder?! Ouch! And he's still taking that guy down. Gotta say, the pulp cover here has a pretty good action-y scene going for it, it's no slouch. But I am seriously loving Bama's cover this time around. Mostly I love that funky submarine Doc is looking at like he wants to punch it.

Let's see... that's not the Helldiver, right? Pretty sure the Helldiver wasn't featured in this story. (...flipping through my copy...) No, it's one of the bad guy's subs. Great looking design though, amiright?



The Black Spot (July 1936 and April 1974) by Lawrence Donovan

All the guests were dressed as gangsters but their millionaire host was dead in the library with a black spot over his heart. Then the black spot struck again. And again. The Man of Bronze and his courageous crew leap into action against Jingles Sporado and his mob but they soon suspect a peril greater than any they have ever confronted.

Artist: Walter Baumhofer

Artist: Fred Pfeiffer

Dear god, not Jingles Sporado and his mob?! No question but that's a great mob guy name. Hmm. These two covers are pretty evenly matched, as far as I'm concerned. Neither sets me on fire (NPI*), but I think I slightly prefer the pulp's leaping from a blazing boat to the reprint's... I'm not sure exactly what's  going on there. I like the dark palette and moodiness it has going, though.

*No Pun Intended



The Midas Man (August 1936 and March 1970) by Lester Dent

Riches beyond the wealth of kings were within the evil grasp of The Midas Man. His very thoughts were worth criminal millions -- no man could escape his evil device. But he hadn't counted on the power for good of Doc Savage!

Artist: Walter Baumhofer

Artist: James Bama

Wow. These two covers are pretty evenly matched as well, but I think they're each spectacular in their own ways. In spite of Doc's seemingly non-gigantic size next to that crook he's nabbing, the pulp cover makes a great impression, you know? And the whole spotlight/shadow thing in the background only adds to it.

And, in spite of my Giant Floating Head aversion, the Bantam cover is pretty eye-grabbing as well. In this case, the GFH serves to showcase the titular Midas Man's mind reading device, and it's pretty damn cool looking. Weird though, the GFH comes off as more photo-realistic than Doc himself is on the cover. So there's an odd bit of below-the-surface-disconnect I get when I look at it. Still, great cover.



Cold Death (September 1936 and January 1968) by Lawrence Donovan

Doc Savage meets his most merciless adversary -- VAR, the faceless fiend whose strange voice announces a terrible mandate of destruction! VAR, who wields the deadly Cold Light, and dares hurl the ultimate challenge at Doc and his mighty crew -- A fight to the death with the world at stake!

Artist: Walter Baumhofer

Artist: James Bama

Well now, here's a milestone: far as I can tell, this was Baumhofer's very last cover for the magazine. It's a nice one, at that. I love the image overall--fisticuffs are always good and the look on that thug's face is priceless, but I think it's got a really nice rendition of Doc too--strong, athletic, with a sense of nobility radiating (not oozing) from his face. It's a nice parting shot for Baumhofer. Funny, I was always under the impression Baumhofer had done the majority of these pulp covers, but it looks like that distinction will be going to Emery Clarke, later on down the road.

I love Bama's cover here, too, mostly because I love trains. I mean it's a dynamic cover in it's own right, don't get me wrong, but being train-centric takes it over the top for me. And I was all set to talk about how this late sixties cover featured a diesel locomotive that didn't exist in 1936 when the story was originally written, when a little research showed me I was (sadly) mistaken.

Turns out the first diesel passenger trains were barreling around the U.S. by 1934. And maybe that train on the cover is visually based on something produced after the story was written, but the general type of engine really was around, for sure. Sigh. I was so excited to point out the discrepancy, and then it turned out not to be one. Great cover, though. I don't actually have a copy of this one to verify what kind of train engine is in-story. I'd been assuming it would have been a steam locomotive, but it's been so many years since I read this one I don't even remember. Now I'm doubly curious to know....



The South Pole Terror (October 1936 and February 1974) by Lester Dent

What was the fabulous treasure Velma Crale had discovered in the South Pole? And why was Cheaters Slagg willing to kill to keep her from talking? The Man of Bronze and his five aides give chase all the way to the bottom of the world -- and are nearly sunburned to death!

Artist: John Falter

Artist: Fred Pfeiffer

Velma Crale and Cheaters Slagg. Heh.

So, far as I figure, this was John Falter's one and only Doc cover. What do you think of it?

I'd have to say it's a tiny bit underwhelming. The scene itself is nothing to get excited about, and poor Doc's looking a little short and thin, to me--I'm not seeing 6' 8" and 270 lbs anywhere on that cover. (Unless Velma herself  is 6' 2" and weighing in around 220. Which she's not.) At any rate, although he did at least some pulp work in his earlier days, Falter was best known for his Saturday Evening Post covers. A quick image search shows he did a lot of amazing work, so maybe if he'd done more than just pinch hit for Doc Savage Magazine, he'd have gone on to develop a better rendition of the bronze fellow. Guess we'll never know.

And, underwhelming or not, Falter's pulp beats out Pfeiffer's reprint this time around. That's a snoozer.



Resurrection Day (November 1936 and May 1969) by Lester Dent

The sweeping genius of the Man of Bronze reaches into the very secret of life itself. A stunned nation hears the announcement that one -- and only one -- long-dead human being will be brought back to life. Who will be chosen? Lincoln? Edison? Shakespeare? As the world rejoices and conjectures, the powers of Evil plan a final, insidious joke on all humanity!

Artist: Robert George Harris

Artist: James Bama

Well, Robert Harris takes over pulp cover duties here, apparently for the next year or so. Looks like he finishes out 1936 and handles all the 1937 covers, too. We'll have to see what I think after I get a good look at 1937. The two he did here are a promising start.

So, having read all Doc's original adventures at least once, I know this one is in my head somewhere, but I can't remember a thing about it. Could be the fact I read most of these stories over a three year stint working nights has something to do with the not remembering. I'm sure I was only "mostly conscious" as I read most of them. (That's like being "mostly dead," but reverse-ified. Right, Princess Bride fans?)

Anyway, these two covers are sixes for me, composition-wise, but I like the color-pop Harris has going in his cover. And for sure PulpDoc dresses for corpse revival surgery more nattily than raggedy ol' BantamDoc does. Yeah?



The Vanisher (December 1936 and September 1970) by Lester Dent

Twenty convicts vanished without a trace from maximum security cells, and top businessmen suddenly disappeared. The tabloids trumpeted the reign of a small, deformed man -- or woman -- spotted at the scenes. Strangely, Doc Savage was framed for the disappearances -- and then the murders ... But the Horrible Hunchback hadn't counted on the wrath of the mighty Man of Bronze!

Artist: Robert George Harris

Artist: James Bama

Okay, Classic Doc Pose on the reprint notwithstanding, that hunchbacked fellow of Bama's just looks goofy. I'm going with Harris's cover this time. I love his pulp's colors, with that groovy purple background, and the scene itself is pulse-raising, with Doc, Monk and (I presume but don't know) Ham in the act of unwillingly disappearing into thin air. It's a pretty eye-grabbing and... uh, dime-giving-upping... cover. (I'm sure there's an actual word I was looking for there, but it temporarily escapes me. At least I hope it's temporary.) Anyway, nice cover.

And!

Since this is one of the two original pulps that I actually own, we get to compare blurbs! (So fun!) As usual, the blurb from the reprint's back cover is up top there, and you can see the pulp's front cover blurb above as well, but wouldn't you know the pulp also contains slightly expanded blurbs (or maybe they're more like taglines) in the magazine's Table of Contents: "Law and Science were easy opponents for him to fight against—but Doc Savage proved to be his Waterloo!" and then on the actual story's first page under its title: "He defied both law and science--but bucking the power of Doc Savage was another thing!"

So there. While the pulps may not have had cool paragraph-long back cover blurbs to help them sell, they definitely took the upper hand in spelling out almost-identical-mini-blurbs in multiple places throughout the same magazine.

Double And!

We also get to take a look at the "coming next month" blurbs that the pulps carried at the end of each adventure. These consisted of two versions: one was kind of a standard side bar type thing--boxed off and separate from the story like another ad might be, and the other one was integrated right into the end of the story itself. These blurbs were removed from the reprints, since they weren't published in the same order as the pulps were and so wouldn't have made any sense.

So here's a shot of each blurb, for your viewing pleasure. The stand-alone....


You know what would've been cool was to sort through and put all these original pulp blurbs on the back of each Bantam reprint. Hmm. I suppose they would've been coming across a little dated, even by the 60s, so I can see why they went with something that felt more current. Still, would've been cool. I think so, at least. No, 'cause these blurbs also referenced other stories and things not in the reprints. Could have used the first part and left the magazine-specific stuff out.

Anyway, here's the in-story "blurb." I did a quick compare of both copies--reprint and pulp--and the pulp shown below has the additional copy outlined in red, while the reprint's story ends just prior to the outlined stuff.

Cool, huh?


Well now we must be done, right? Nope, there's more. (NOW how much would you pay?)

Having that sweet smelling old pulp right in my hot little hands (nothing smells as good as an old, old book), I decided to flip through it and take pictures of all the interior images--from the Doc story, at least. So here those are. They come in two flavors, little mini portraits of Doc and other series regulars, and then a series of illustrated scenes from the story itself. (I feel like I've said "itself" a lot in this post. And used a lot of parentheses.)

Anyway. I'm not strictly laying these down in the order they show up in the magazine. There, the portraits are mixed in with the story illustrations. Here, I'm grouping the portraits first and then laying out the story illustrations in the order they showed up in-story.

So here we go with the portraits:









And here are the story illustrations:






Those last two are on facing pages in the magazine, but I couldn't for the life of me tell if they're supposed to be a single illustration of not. I couldn't quite make them match up by sliding them together, and even a quick skim-through of the text didn't show me a scene that matched both images together. Which doesn't mean anything, really. Illustrators often take license when doing their thing. I will say that Doc is noticeably bigger than the people around him in these illustrations. So points for that.

Oh, not sure what happened with those last two images as far as the funky backgrounds. I'd removed story text and made the images transparent, and I thought we'd just see a white background there. Oh well. You get the gist of them anyway.

Which brings me to the time where I say the fellow most likely doing these drawings was Paul Orban (99% sure). The guy was talented and incredibly prolific; a Google Image search will give you plenty to ogle. The 99% is because I remember reading somewhere online that Orban was responsible for this particular issue's art, but I can't find the reference now. I do know he did a huge amount of interior work for Doc Savage Magazine overall, so I'm probably pretty safe.

Okay, now that really is it. We're done for another year. I mean, 1936 is done and we're on to 1937. Not that it will take me a year to get to 1937 (I hope).

Anyway, till then.