Monday, January 15, 2018

THE FAT BLACK PUSSYCAT... UNMASKED!


I'm presently doing some research at the moment on the actress Patricia McNair, who did some Joe Sarno movies, and tonight I decided to take a look at her earliest screen credit, THE FAT BLACK PUSSYCAT (1963), which is available from Something Weird Video on a double feature DVD with THE BLACK CAT (1966). The movie is remarkably giallo-like for an American film of this vintage; it has a NYC beatnik milieu and also a very interesting cast, including Hugh Romney (the future "Wavy Gravy"), Hector Elizondo (whom I didn't see), an unbilled Geoffrey Lewis, and some great bookshelves - but there was another actor in the film I knew I had seen and heard before, but I couldn't place him for the life of me - and there was no other familiar name in the credits.


Fortunately, before the movie was over, I got a fix on him. The voice is UNmistakable. Oh, man - talk about people hiding in plain sight.
 



You read it here first, my friends: THE BLACK FAT PUSSYCAT features the earliest known screen appearance of Malcolm John "Mac" Rebennack, better known as Dr. John the Night Tripper! 

P.S. This is not presently noted on the IMDb.

P.S.S. Patricia McNair is far and away the best actor in the picture.








(c) 2018 by Tim Lucas. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, January 02, 2018

Someday I Need To Get Organizized

For several days, while working on what will become my first audio commentary of the New Year, I've been reflecting on how much I love the music score for this film (all I can tell you is that it's an Italian gothic) and lamenting that probably no soundtrack album release exists. In the past hour, in the course of some online research, I was gobsmacked to discover that a soundtrack album did in fact exist and was on the point of rushing over to Screen Archives Entertainment to buy it... but something about the packaging looked vaguely familiar, and a little voice told me it was better to be safe than sorry... So I got up and crossed the room to that neglected, disorganized shelf where I tend to put duplicates of discs (releases I once annotated, that kind of thing) or discs I didn't have time to listen to when they came in the mail or otherwise properly process, where reading the tiny writing on the lowermost spines requires a physical flexibility that is now more nostalgic for me than actual. After pulling out about five fistfuls of CDs, many of them still shrink-wrapped and producing various shades of amazement and disbelief, there it was! I actually had this music on disc all along, and it has been lost in the limbo of that terrible shelf since it came out in 2006, just 10 steps from my desk in this much too cluttered office of mine.

At least there is evidence that I played it once!


(c) 2018 by Tim Lucas. All rights reserved.