Overlooked and under appreciated by most US movie poster collectors, marquee art from
south of the border offers a no-holds-barred plethora of often shocking
and bizarre images. From the super heroic exploits of El Santo, the
masked wrestler, to the re-released, re-packaged, and regurgitated US
drive-in fare of the 50's and 60's, Mexican cinema art is
generally far superior to American theatre graphics of the same time
period.
Unfortunately the same can't be said of the paper stock itself.
Many early one sheets have the structural integrity of a single ply of
rough newsprint. After forty plus years of cruel storage in the
environmental equivalent of El Diablo's anus, what remains is a browning
and brittle artifact--a major contributor to the rarity of many pieces.
Larger lobby cards (12.5 x 16) and window cards (14 x 22) tend to hold up
much better since they were primarily printed on a thicker paper stock.
But heartiest of all were a series of standard 11 x 14 lobbies printed on
laminated cardstock with an actual b&w still from the film glued in place.
Enhanced with garish color and high quality photographs, these gems were
manufactured in the US by Azteca, Inc. for distribution to Stateside
Spanish language movie houses. Each set consisted of 8 to 12 different
cards with identical border artwork, but unique photographs. Titles
included many of the most popular horror/wrestling movies of the 50's
and 60's.
Although fantasy and horror films had been produced since the inception
of the Mexican film industry, it took a pair of 1957
Aztec Mummy flicks
and the cinematic classic, El Vampiro
(The Vampire, 1957) to slam the genre into high gear.
In addition to horror and sci-fi flicks, the Mexican movie industry
produced hundreds of supersonic, high-octane, rock 'em sock 'em
wrestling extravaganzas from the early 1950's through the mid 1980's.
The films featured such luminaries as Mil Mascaras (Thousand Masks),
Mujer Murcielago (Bat Woman),
Neutron, Blue Demon, Superzan, Zovek,
Tieniblas (Darkness); and the undisputed king of them all
El Santo.
Battling a host of demons, crooks, and Universal inspired movie monsters,
the masked heroes of the ring endeared themselves to kids and adults alike
by extolling the virtues of right n' wrong ala Superman and Batman.
Masters of padding and firm believers in "everything but the kitchen
sink", Mexican filmmakers generally offered up a thin plot wrapped
around an extensive wrestling sequence, topped off with a musical
interlude. The MTVesque plot-stoppers usually came courtesy of a cast
member or pop star of that era.
Often the luchadors banded together as in such memorable efforts as Las
Momias de Guanajuato (1971), in which Santo, Mil Mascaras, and Blue Demon
are pitted against zombie hordes of living mummies. Despite the valiant
efforts of Blue and Mil Mascaras, it is Santo who pops up at the very end
of the film and orchestrates the demise of the creatures via his hand held
flame throwers; thus stealing the thunder from the other two. After more
than 25 years, the ending still rankles Blue.
Blue Demon, who starred in a dozen of his own films, maintained a
professional rivalry between himself and Santo throughout their careers;
a tradition that is perpetuated by the respective sons of each. Now in
his seventies, not relying on paltry residuals from a fickle film industry,
he trains novice wrestlers in his own gym, The Blue Demon Instituto
Atletico.
Mexican cinema art, occasionally brilliant, often quirky; ranging stylistically
from carnival sideshow simplicity to highly refined renderings, offers a spicy
feast for the movie graphics connoisseur.