Saturday, April 11, 2020

Pages of Death (1962)

Director:  ?

Writer:  ?

Composer:  ?

Starring:  Tom Harmon, Vivi Janiss, John Larch, Paul Picerni

More info:  IMDb

Plot:  A 12 year old girl doesn't come home from school.  She turns up day.  Was the murder a teenager addicted to pornographic magazines he purchased at the newsstand?



My rating: 6/10

Will I watch it again? No.


This needs to be seen by everyone, lest you or someone you know goes into a frenzy of smut-inspired rage.

I've seen a lot of scare/classroom films in my day and there are some bad ones despite the brief runtime.  This one's about a half hour and it's quite entertaining, not to mention it's got an impressive cast - just look at their credits.  Here's a fun tidbit.  The narrator, Tom Harmon, is the father of actor Mark Harmon.

The two detectives are mad as hell that the local drugstores and newsstands are carrying smutty books and they won't stop for anything until the city is rid of this scourge.  After the young girl's body is discovered, they soon make their way to the suspect's (Paul's) house.  His mother is keeping her trap shut because they think he had something to do with it and of course her son couldn't possibly be involved.  So naturally she leaves them alone in his room for them to rummage through his dresser where they find lots of magazines, paperback novels, 8mm films and even slides!  Paul's father, George, is played by John Larch, an actor who's recognizable in tons of movies.


My favorite character is hands down is Baker, the shop owner.  He brings the most energy and seems to revel in the role and he's a nice contrast to the often deadpan, DRAGNET-ish coppers.  You can watch it on YouTube above.  If you don't watch the whole thing (and what's wrong with you that you can't give up a half hour of your time for art?) then just hit the final five minutes at the store.  The artistry involved with the dialogue exchange and how the camera pans left to see the two detectives exit the store and into the shot we see a teen reading a book, presumably a book of smut.  That's some next level shit right there.

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