An extremely low-fi poster for the UK release of the excellent 1985 horror comedy The Return of the Living Dead. The image is of Jerome ‘Daniels’ Coleman who plays the rather terrifying legless zombie who chomps on a paramedic before chasing Don Calfa. A clip of him in action is on YouTube.

Apparently Coleman was an amputee who could run on his stumps and was discovered by one of the film’s producers living on the streets of L.A. The effect is extremely effective, particularly when coupled with his blood-curdling screams. It’s one of the few truly creepy moments in the whole film, in my opinion.

The US one sheet is markedly different and can be seen here.

The original trailer is on YouTube.

Gremlins, director Joe Dante‘s classic horror comedy, was one of the biggest box-office hits of the 1980s and this tale of small, malevolent creatures attacking the residents of a small town spawned countless imitations, including Critters and Troll, none of which were able to match the quality of the film they were attempting to emulate. The film was produced by Steven Spielberg through his Amblin Entertainment company, the logo of which features on the jeans button on this poster (see this close up on the American one sheet).

Thanks to several violent scenes, the film is credited, along with Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, for the introduction of the PG-13 rating in America, which was intended to be applied to films that fell into the gap between the PG (Parental Guidance, but safe for children) and R-rated (intended for over 17-year olds). The equivalent in the UK is the 12A rating, which was introduced in 2002 and replaced the 12 rating that had been instigated at the end of the 1980s (for Tim Burtons’s Batman).

The poster artwork on this British quad is by the late American designer and artist John Alvin, who was responsible for over 135 film poster designs over a thirty year period. Alvin painted many unforgettable pieces of artwork, including Blade Runner and E.T. The Extra Terrestrial, and this image he created for Gremlins is definitely one of his most beloved. It was used around the globe to promote the film, including the US, Japan and multiple European countries. Alvin sadly passed away too early, just shy of his 6oth birthday (in 2008), but his fantastic designs will live on for generations to come.

To see the posters I’ve collected by Alvin click here.

A rarely seen ‘style B’ one sheet with artwork by the great Drew Struzan, for the release of the horror film The Outing, which was actually a re-edited version of the 1986 film The Lamp. Skouras Films distributed the film in most territories outside of the United States but, for reasons I’m unable to ascertain, the domestic release was handled by the now defunct outfit The Movie Store who cut 18 minutes, primarily from the first ‘prologue’ part of the film, and changed its name to the one seen on this poster. The Lamp cut of the film is now something of a cult classic and it faired much better on its original worldwide release than The Outing did in the US.

The Lamp version of the story starts in the 19th century onboard a cargo ship from the Middle East bound for Texas. When the ship docks most of the crew have been killed with only the captain and a young girl surviving, that is until the mysterious killer strikes again and the source of the evil is shown to be related to an ornate Arabian lamp. Jumping forward several decades (where The Outing begins) a bunch of hicks are ransacking the home of an elderly Arabic lady who they murder before coming across the lamp seen at the start of the film. When one of the thieves accidentally rubs the object, the evil djinn (or genie) is unleashed and proceeds to massacre each of the men one by one. During the subsequent police investigation, the lamp is found and sent to the Houston Museum of Natural Science, which is where the bulk of the film takes place. A teenage girl, whose father works at the museum, discovers the lamp and is somehow possessed by the creature, persuading a bunch of her schoolmates to stay the night at the museum allowing the evil genie to have his wicked way.

This style B differs from the other version of the poster, which I also have in the collection, by depicting the evil genie in all its gruesomeness. The main image of the four terrified teens features on both posters, albeit with a slightly modified colour scheme.

To see the other posters I have in my collection that were painted by Drew Struzan click here.

A true cult horror – you only have to look at the list of references in pop culture on its Wikipedia page to get an idea of how much impact the film has had – this poster features a memorable tagline and a teaser of the creatures of the title. The story may be schlocky; toxic mutants living in the sewers of New York are attacking its inhabitants and it’s up to ragtag group of people (cop, fashion reporter, soup-kitchen owner!) to save the day, but the film works with its low budget to create some memorable gore-filled scenes and features fun acting from the likes of John Heard and Daniel Stern. It also has an excellent none-more-80s synth soundtrack.

Chud has since been appropriated to describe ugly, stupid people thanks mainly to its use in Kevin Smith’s Clerks II. It’s also used as the domain name of an excellent cult film website (Cinematic Happenings Under Development).

Here’s the original trailer.

A striking piece of artwork by Seito, one of my favourite Japanese poster artists, for this 1976 horror film. The story sees loyal pet dogs grouping together and turning against their owners, which may have something to do with sinister experiments being conducted at a nearby university.

The only bit of trivia for the film on IMDb made me laugh:

There was to be a sequel, appropriately entitled “Cats”. But when “Dogs” failed at the box office, production was canceled. 

The final photo in the gallery is a behind the scenes shot of what happened when one of my cats, Little Brown (she was the runt of the litter and she’s brown – I know, I know!), jumped in front of the poster whilst I was photographing it.

The full film can be seen on YouTube.

The other posters I’ve collected by Seito can be seen here.

‘Jaws with boars’, Razorback was the debut feature of Australian director Russell Mulcahy, probably best known for the 1986 fantasy classic Highlander. Prior to shooting the film Mulcahy had been working as a successful music video director for several years and is credited with the first video ever to air on MTV (Video Killed the Radio Star by The Buggles).

Set and filmed in the Australian outback, the story sees American Carl Winters (Gregory Harrison) traveling there to investigate the mysterious disappearance of his wife, a reporter who was looking at the illegal hunting of outback wildlife. Carl soon discovers that she was attacked by an oversized Razorback boar and teams up with a local hunter (Bill Kerr), whose grandson was killed by the beast, and his friend Sarah (Arkie Whiteley). They set out to track down and stop the creature before it can kill again but have to contend with a pair of deranged locals intent on covering up their part in the death of Carl’s wife.

Mulcahy’s direction and Dean Semler’s award-winning cinematography elevate the film above the usual low-budget horror fare. The special effects used to realise the titular beast aren’t particularly great but there a handful of scenes that are well done, including some long shots of the rhino-sized animatronic monstrosity. The ending feels notably rushed and an interview with Alan Jones (critic, and friend of Mulcahy) on the DVD makes it clear that the director was forced to film the last few minutes against his wishes; Mulcahy having planned an alternative ending.

I’m crediting the artwork to ace illustrator Boris Vallejo, despite the lack of his usual signature, because it’s clearly his work as seen on this signed Belgian poster (image taken from emovieposter). It could be that Boris worked on a landscape layout, but It’s likely that a British designer was tasked with adapting his original artwork to the quad format. It’s equally possible that a British illustrator was asked to ape his style with a new layout. Regardless, it’s only fair that he is given the credit.

The original trailer is on YouTube.

Very early Drew Struzan artwork on this poster for the film Squirm, which was an entry in the ‘nature strikes back’ sub-genre of horror and features millions of earthworms feasting on the unwitting population of a small Georgia town. The worms are forced to the surface after a downed power line crashes into wet soil and, for some unexplained reason, turns them into carnivores with a taste for human flesh.

This surreal illustration is quite unique amongst Struzan’s oeuvre and puts me in mind of a painting by Hieronymus Bosch (example here) and one of Francis Bacon‘s more nightmarish images. There’s a lot of detail in there and I spot new elements every time I look at it.

This particular poster is an oversized 30×40 and features a mention of the Gold Medal Showcase Cinema chain, which leads me to believe it was printed especially for them and could have been for a preview showing. I’m certain that it’s from the time of the original release, but if anyone has any more information on the poster please get in touch.

The trailer can be viewed on YouTube.

The other posters I’ve collected by Drew can be seen here.

You only have to look through my poster archive to know that I love schlocky horror films as much as the next person, but I really struggled to make it through The Stuff when I rewatched it again recently. Sadly, that wasn’t because it was too gory or scary but because it’s such a terrible mess of a film, with clunky pacing, a complete lack of suspense and painfully bad acting across the board. Lead Michael Moriarty gives one of the strangest performances I’ve ever seen featuring baffling line deliveries and the general air of someone who thinks he’s acting in another film entirely.

The premise is okay with a mysterious white goo being discovered in the desert by a miner who then samples it, declares it to be tasty, and before long it’s the nation’s favourite dessert and is being marketed as an alternative to ice cream. The only downside is that it turns people into brain-washed zombies who infect anyone else they come into contact with. The leaders of several ice cream companies hire Mo Rutherford (Moriarty), a former FBI agent, to investigate what the secret of The Stuff really is.

I’m unsure who painted the artwork on this US one sheet so please get in touch if you have any ideas.

The original trailer is on YouTube.

An arresting design on this poster for the release of Shikoku, a Japanese psychological horror film released in 1999. The story sees Hinako (Yui Natsukawa) return to the village she grew up in on the island of Shikoku after spending several years in Tokyo. She discovers that her childhood friend Sayori (Chiaki Kuriyama) died when she was sixteen under mysterious circumstances and, after Hinako sees the spirit of her friend, it becomes clear that Sayori’s grieving mother has spent the past few years attempting to bring her daughter back from the dead.

Chiaki Kuriyama, who features on the poster,  is best known for her role as mace-wielding Gogo Yubari in Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill. The film was released on DVD in several countries but the UK disc seems to be currently out of print.

Brilliant artwork by UK artist Graham Humphreys on this quad for the (superior IMO) sequel to Sam Raimi’s brilliant low-budget horror The Evil Dead. The films were a great success in the UK after the first was bought at the Cannes Film Festival by the legendary British distribution (and later production) company Palace Pictures. Released in cinemas and on VHS almost simultaneously the modest outlay for the rights to distribute the film proved to be an excellent deal as it went on to see great box-office takings and thousands of tapes sold. The first film was eventually caught up in the infamous video nasties debacle of the 1980s and was banned for a number of years under the Video Recordings Act.

The sequel, made six years later and technically a retcon sequel, was allotted a significantly larger budget than the first and is more of a black comedy than the original. Lead actor Bruce Campbell is put through a continually escalating series of horrific encounters that allow him to show the full extent of his talent for slapstick comedy.

Palace pictures bought the rights to distribute the second film and asked Graham Humphreys to design the quad and video artwork for it after his iconic design for the first film had proved so successful. When I interviewed the artist about his career in 2011 I asked him about the design for the poster and the excerpt from the interview is below:

What happened with the quad for Evil Dead II?
It was the same situation at Palace but I think Steve and Nik Powell were at the helm with this one, since the first film had been so succesful. They figured why change the formula. I guess the point was that the film was almost a remake of the first one, plus a bit extra and so that’s what going on here. A re-imagining of the first one.

In that documentary you talk about how you’d had another idea involving a clock.
Yeah, that was the whole thing about ‘dead by dawn’ and I had this pendulum and a blood-covered clock that looked fantstic. I was particularly influenced by Werner Herzog’s Nosferatu film because there’s a great clock in that, which is beautifully designed with a little skull. That’s really what I wanted to do. The idea was actually to build a physical clock, but I never got to make it. The guys thought it was a bit obscure. There was also going to be a ‘Pit and the Pendulum’-style swishing blade covered in blood and the title was going to be on that.

The feedback was to keep things simple and use the characters?
Yeah, we had the reel to reels on the first one and for this we had the book of the dead as the key element. There was some contention over whether we do the Roman numerals or the big number 2. To me it felt it should be classic looking with the numerals. I used a colour slide-set for the characters with only a few adjustments. I think I took a Polaroid of my hand to get the position right and a girl I was working with did the pose for me onto which I added the actresses head.

Do you prefer this one or the first film’s quad better?
I like the first one because it’s so raw and it captures the mood and music of the time for me. They’re two different animals really.
The full interview can be read here.

Check out these TV clips that were specially filmed in the UK to promote the film featuring Sam Raimi and English TV and radio (and film critic) Jonathan Ross

Italian director Franco Prosperi is best known as the co-creator of the infamous Mondo Cane ‘shockumentary’, which consisted of a series of travelogue-style vignettes looking at strange cultural practices from around the world with the intention of shocking Western audiences. Made in 1962, the film had an emphasis on taboo subjects including sex, death, ritual killings and cannibalism, and it was such a success that it spawned a slew of sequels and copycat films, and created it’s own mondo genre of exploitation films. Despite being presented as genuine documentary footage, many of the scenes in mondo movies were clearly staged by the producers.

One recurring aspect of the genre was animal deaths and cruelty, and Prosperi continued this theme when he directed Wild Beasts, a 1984 horror set in an unnamed European city (actually Frankfurt in Germany). The film sees PHP inadvertently being released into the water supply for the local zoo and the crazed animals wreaking havoc on the city. Some of the carnage sees an elephant trampling a car (and the heads of the occupants), a guide-dog turning on his blind owner and rats devouring a series of unlucky victims. Working with animal handlers Prosperi used editing to achieve most of the attack scenes but unfortunately the film does feature moments of actual animal cruelty, including the live torching of the aforementioned rats. Because of these scenes I don’t believe the film was ever given a cinema release in the UK, although it appears to now be available here via import DVD.

This is the poster for the Japanese release of the film and it features brilliantly exaggerated scenes of carnage, overselling the sequences from the film. The artist appears to be someone called Kazumi Akutsu according to the signature featured on the side of the speeding train, although it could be that I have one of the letters wrong in the surname. I’ve been unable to find out anything about the artist so please get in touch if you have any ideas. I’d strongly advise you not to perform a google image search for the name with safe search off!

The original Italian trailer is on YouTube.

Roman Polanski’s 1968 horror masterpiece Rosemary’s Baby was released with one of the most iconic posters of all time that, like many of the most memorable designs, features a striking image in conjunction with an intriguing tagline. There is a fascinating, newly-filmed documentary on the recently released Criterion blu-ray of the film, which features many of the people involved in its making, including the legendary producer Robert Evans who recounts the story of how this poster came to be:

“When we finished the film the front office [of Paramount], which was in New York at the time, didn’t want to release it. They didn’t know how to sell it. I went to a friend of mine [Stephen Frankfurt] who was president at Young & Rubicam, a very large advertising agency, and I told him my problem; I can’t release the movie because the whole of our advertising team doesn’t know how to sell it, and the picture’s brilliant! He goes to see it and then he said to be ‘Bob, I’m going to tell it you straight; it’s not an easy picture to sell and I’m not going to take one dime from you to give you a whole campaign for it.’ He then said ‘But if you buy what I give you I want one hundred thousand dollars’.

I walked in to the chairman of the board Charles Bluhdorn‘s office and said ‘take a look at this and you tell me if you want to write a cheque for one hundred thousand dollars’ and I turned the artboard around and there it is; there’s a mountain and a carriage and it says ‘Pray for Rosemary’s Baby’, that’s all. And he looks at it and he becomes so pale that he’s as white as these shoes that I’m wearing and he said ‘I have to pay him one hundred thousand dollars for three [four] words?!’ and I said that’s right, and he did! Pray for Rosemary’s Baby became the ad of the year. It made the picture and without that image people wouldn’t know what it is and they still didn’t know but they were intrigued. It opened to the biggest business Paramount had done in years.”

After a bit of research it seems that although Stephen Frankfurt should be credited as the creative director for the poster, it was actually designed by Philip Gips in conjunction with Richard Danne. I’ve been attempting to figure out exactly where each of these designers worked and I have to confess it has left me slightly confused. Stephen Frankfurt is profiled in this excellent piece by Adrian Curry on Mubi.com that details his involvement in several seminal film posters of the 1960s and 70s, including Downhill Racer and the first Emmanuelle movie. He also worked on opening titles (To Kill a Mockingbird) and trailers for several films, including the one for Rosemary’s Baby. According to the article Frankfurt’s thing ‘was to see the packaging of movies as a totality—designing the titles, posters, trailers and ads with one common look and theme.’ The article also notes that the baby carriage on the crag was shot on the outcrops of rocks in Manhattan’s Central Park.

Frankfurt died earlier this year and in this article in Adweek it mentions that he was also a partner in an agency he set up with Philip Gips and Aubrey Balkind (named simply Frankfurt Gips Balkind), where he worked on over 55 film marketing campaigns. It’s not totally clear but I believe that he must have worked on this poster whilst also serving as president at Young and Rubicam, hence the fact that Robert Evans mentions the larger agency in the interview above.

Note that in the comments of that article someone with the username ‘Villafranca’ writes the following:
“In the mid-90’s, I worked for Philip Gips’s the small agency that he started after he left Frankfurt, Gips Balkind. In his office, he had framed prints of both the “Rosemary’s Baby” and “Alien” posters hanging in his office because, well, he designed them. And one other small tidbit: his wife, Barbara, wrote the line “In space no one can hear you scream” (not Stephen Frankfurt). Phil told me this personally.”

Further on in the comments another poster called ‘danagips’ writes:
“This should absolutely be retitled the movie posters of Phil Gips. And my mother did indeed write, ‘In Space No One Can Hear You Scream’ for Alien.”

In addition to this, the website of AIGA (American Institute of Graphic Arts) features a page on the poster that also credits Richard Danne as a co-designer of the poster. Danne appears to have had a lengthy and lauded career in the New York advertising industry and his official website features a biography that indicates he served as president of AIGA as well as a several other organisations. The Rosemary’s Baby poster features on his website where another agency ‘Gips and Danne’ is mentioned (the AIGA website has examples of that agency’s work).

The agency for the poster is credited as Gips and Danne so does that mean that Philip Gips was also working as a partner in a second design firm in addition to the one he founded with Frankurt and Balkind? Was this job given to Gips and Richard Danne’s firm by Frankfurt who was working for Paramount? I intend to contact Richard Danne to try and clarify but I’d appreciate any other information that people may have so I can accurately credit the poster.

This is the original British quad for the release of the film over here and I was utterly thrilled to find it in excellent, rolled condition. Note the circular snipe in the bottom corner which ties it to the Paramount cinema in London’s Piccadilly Circus. The building was opened in 1921 as the large and luxurious cinema known as the Plaza Theatre that was designed and built for Paramount Pictures to be their showcase venue in London. The Arthur Lloyd ‘music hall and theatre history’ website features a page on the cinema that details its history and has several excellent pictures included. Finally, I’m unsure who will have done the design work to adapt the original portrait one sheet design to the landscape quad format.

You have to love that tagline! From Indonesia comes this brazen rip-off homage to James Cameron’s original sci-fi classic, which not only rehashes most of the original’s premise but actually lifts entire shot sequences and even lines of dialogue, including the famous ‘come with me if you want to live’. Lady Terminator was apparently the product of a period of boom in the Indonesian economy that lasted from the early 1970s up until the 1990s and had a knock on effect the country’s cultural output, including the fledgling film industry. Eager directors filmed a number of low-budget exploitation features, often with western distribution in mind, and the results are a mish-mash of Hollywood tropes and Indonesian culture.

Arguably the most well-known of these films is this 1989 action/horror that features an admirably ludicrous plot blending the history of the legendary Indonesian spirit The Queen of the Southern Sea with a series of loosely connected action scenes featuring a possessed anthropology student on a murderous rampage. This page on Rotten Tomatoes does a better job at summarising the plot than I ever could:

In 1889, the vicious “Queen of the South Sea” collects men that she murders during sex, thanks to a magical eel that lives inside of her vagina and bites the penises off of those who can’t satisfy her lust. Finally, one man pleasures her long enough to reach inside and pull out the creature, which instantly turns into a dagger. Furious, the Queen vows that she’ll take her revenge on the man’s great-granddaughter, and goes into the sea to wait for one hundred years.

A century passes, and Tania, a plucky anthropologist, finds an ancient book on the legend of the Queen and decides to investigate. She charters a boat to take her to the area where the Queen is believed to have disappeared, but while skindiving, a tidal wave destroys the vessel and Tania suddenly finds herself tied to a bed in a mysterious room. When a mystical eel enters her, she is possessed by the spirit of the bloodthirsty Queen. After killing a pair of drunken punks in a lascivious manner, she sees the image of Erika, a pop singer, on television and recognizes her as the descendant of the man the Queen vowed revenge on a century before.

Just…wow! Check out the trailer to get a glimpse at this insanity. Lady Terminator was played by the London-born model Barbara Anne Constable who grew up in Australia and landed the role in Lady Terminator whilst visiting Hong Kong. It ended up being her only film role and there’s a great interview with her on this website.

Something lurks beneath the surface of Santa Monica beach and it’s hungry for flesh – can it be stopped? That’s pretty much the elevator pitch for the 1980 horror film Blood Beach, which was directed by Jeffrey Bloom and features genre stalwart John Saxon and prolific character actor Burt Young (perhaps best known for his role as Paulie in Rocky) as two local policemen assigned to discover the truth behind a number of mysterious disappearances (and a dog with a missing head).

For a film with such a simple premise Blood Beach is surprisingly boring and features several limp sequences involving the other two names mentioned on this poster. David Huffman and Marianna Hill play two locals with a muddily explained backstory and any pretence of them being the film’s leads is abandoned halfway through. There are a handful of effective scenes featuring victims being dragged beneath the sand (I’d actually like to know how the effect was achieved) and one moment where an unlucky gentlemen (well, technically, would-be rapist) has his privates removed by the creature. When it is finally revealed, the beast is so terribly realised that any fear that might have built up immediately evaporates – perhaps the budget ran out by that point but the rubber monstrosity on show is beyond laughable.

Currently the film is very hard to track down if you do want to subject yourself to it, and I actually ended up watching it on a German DVD, which is the only digital release available worldwide and is the slightly modified R-rated version.

The poster was designed and illustrated by Tom Beauvais, a British artist with a lengthy career working in film marketing which saw him design and/or illustrate several notable posters, including the quad for Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and Mad Max. He was also responsible for the infamous ‘rotten hand bursting from the ground’ image for Lucio Fulci’s Zombie Flesh Eaters, a device Tom was clearly happy reusing for this poster! In 2012 I was lucky enough to meet and interview Tom and the article can be read here.

Remember the giant snail sitting on the shoulder of the titular statue as it burns during the climax of the British classic The Wicker Man? The designer of this poster for the first release of the film in Japan (in March 1998) must have seen a different print than the rest of us; perhaps the infamous lost footage is safe and well over there, and also features the appearance of a large mollusc? As for the naked torsos with the animal heads – your guess is as good as mine!

The Wicker Man is a true British classic and even though it started life as a low-budget b-feature the film has lost none of its power since its release forty years ago this year. Based on a script by celebrated screenwriter Anthony Shaffer, who had previously seen great success with the play Sleuth (1970), The Wicker Man was helmed by first time director Robin Hardy and was filmed on location around Scotland, with several coastal settings chosen to stand-in for the fictional island of Summerisle. It’s unfair to call the film a horror as it’s a mix of murder-mystery with occult undertones and features an unforgettable finale that lingers in the mind for a long time after the credits roll.

Edward Woodward stars as Sergeant Howie, a strait-laced policeman sent from the Scottish mainland to to investigate the mysterious disappearance of a local girl. After encountering indifference and hostility from the inhabitants, Howie decides to investigate the islands’ de facto leader Lord Summerisle (A memorable Christopher Lee) and soon discovers that this charismatic figure’s influence and beliefs hold sway over the population. The policeman realises too late that he has been brought to the island for reasons more sinister than the supposed disappearance of a local girl, and things are about to get very heated indeed for the unlucky Sergeant Howie.

This poster features images from the film, including the scenes where the islanders dress up for a procession (hence the animal masks) and a sinister-looking Lee in the make-up his character wears during these moments. Over the years the actor has repeatedly claimed that The Wicker Man was the finest script he’d ever read and is very proud of his role in the film, even if he does express annoyance about the missing scenes. Note that the paper snipe in the top right features details of the film’s showtimes and other details, which features on every copy of this poster that I have ever seen.

In addition to this poster I also have the UK one sheet and the large American 40×60 poster.

Cult Canadian director David Cronenberg’s Videodrome was released with this unique poster design when it hit Japanese cinemas in 1985. Like much of the director’s output, Videodrome is definitely not for the faint of heart and contains some utterly unforgettable moments of Cronenberg’s patented body-horror mutations. James Woods stars as Max Renn the sleazy CEO of a minor cable TV station who is constantly on the lookout for cheap exploitation fare to broadcast. Renn is told about Videodrome, a new and mysterious signal apparently being broadcast out of Malaysia which purports to depict real ‘snuff’ movies of victims being tortured and killed.

Renn decides to start pirating the show and broadcasting it to his audience. This soon attracts widespread attention that puts him into contact with sadomasochistic psychiatrist Nicki Brand (Debby Harry) and Professor Brian O’Blivion (Jack Creley). When he discovers that the signal is actually being broadcast out of Pittsburgh, Renn decides to investigate further and he plunges into a nightmarish conspiracy that goes deeper than he ever imagined. As the American tagline says ‘First it controls your mind. Then it destroys your body’. Fans of Cronenberg’s proclivity for unnatural cavities and the melding of flesh with inorganic substances are not left disappointed, and the gun on this poster hints towards the finale.

In addition to this Japanese poster I also have the American one sheet and the British quad.

Director John Landis‘ horror classic An American Werewolf in London was, unusually for the time, released simultaneously in North American and British cinemas. The film was shot in the UK with a largely local cast and crew thanks to the Eady Levy, which provided funding for British productions based on taxed box-office receipts. The levy attracted a number of foreign producers and directors including Stanley Kubrick, Sidney Lumet and John Huston. The levy lasted for almost thirty years before being wound-up in 1985.

It was this incentive that saw Landis and his producing partners (including frequent collaborator George Folsey Jr.) move over here for the duration of filming, and although the two lead actors (David Naughton and Griffin Dunne) are American, the majority of the rest of the cast are British, including the gorgeous Jenny Agutter. The film makes excellent use of several London locations, with a memorable sequence on the Underground, plus the climactic scenes shot in and around Piccadilly Circus. There is an excellent article on the Guardian website that was written by Landis in 2009 in which he recalls his memories of shooting the film.

Although AWIL was released on the same day in each country, the American and British posters couldn’t be any more different. The USA one sheet features an enigmatic shot of the two lead actors glancing over their shoulders with a look of concern whist a full moon shines above them. There’s not even a glimpse of the titular creature, whereas this UK quad has no qualms about featuring a large shot taken from the famous transformation scene. It also features the bizarre inclusion of a black and white image of a nude Naughton confronting an old lady after waking up in London Zoo.

Fans of the film would be wise to pick up the 2009 blu-ray release as it features a must-watch documentary on the film called Beware the Moon: Remembering ‘An American Werewolf in London’ that was conceived and filmed by life-long AWIL devotee Paul Davis. It features the majority of the surviving cast and crew and has clearly been put together by someone who cares about the film deeply.

Gremlins, director Joe Dante‘s classic horror comedy, was one of the biggest box-office hits of the 1980s and this tale of small, malevolent creatures attacking the residents of a small town spawned countless imitations, including Critters, Ghoulies and Troll, none of which were able to match the quality of the film they were attempting to emulate. The film was produced by Steven Spielberg through his Amblin Entertainment company and it definitely features some unmistakable Spielbergian qualities.

Thanks to several violent scenes, the film is credited, along with Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, for the introduction of the PG-13 rating in America, which was intended to be applied to films that fell into the gap between the PG (Parental Guidance, but safe for children) and R-rated (intended for over 17-year olds). The equivalent in the UK is the 12A rating, which was introduced in 2002 and replaced the 12 rating that had been instigated at the end of the 1980s (for Tim Burtons’s Batman).

The artwork on this Polish poster is by Jan Mlodozeniec who was born in Warsaw in 1929 and worked on a whole range of illustration jobs including posters, book covers and editorial artwork. He won multiple awards for his poster designs, including two Gold medals at the Polish Poster Biennale. Polishposter.com features a large gallery of his many film posters, including Blue Velvet and a great design for Spielberg’s Duel. The artist sadly passed away, aged 71, in December 2000.

Another of Disney’s forays into live-action filmmaking (this was actually the studio’s second PG-rated film after 1979’s The Black Hole), The Watcher in the Woods is an eerie mystery thriller that absolutely terrified me when I first watched it as a child in the 1980s. An Anglo-American co-production, the film was helmed by John Hough and English director who had proved his horror chops with the adults-only The Legend of Hell House (1973) and was chosen by the American producer Ron Miller to work on this film. Legendary Hollywood actress Bette Davis was lined up to star and the year of production coincided with her 50th in the business.

The story sees an Anglo-American family move to a manor house surrounded by thick woodland that is owned by Mrs. Aylwood (Davis). One of the daughters, Jan (played by Lynn-Holly Johnson, the real-life figure-skater who would appear in For Your Eyes Only soon after), is told she bears a striking resemblance to Mrs Aylwood’s daughter Karen who went missing 30 years earlier. Jan begins to see strange apparitions in the forest and suffers a series of unexplainable phenomena. After discovering an abandoned church in the middle of the woods, Jan finds that there’s more to Karen’s disappearance than she’s been told and it’s not long before the secret behind the ‘Watcher’ is revealed.

This British quad features an illustration of the scene that terrified me the most when I first saw the film, which is the moment that a ritual is carried out inside the church during a violent thunderstorm. It also features an image of the Watcher in the form seen in the final release, but as the Wikipedia article on the film details there had originally been an alternative ending to the film that showed it in a much different form. The first ending apparently went down disastrously with test audiences and critics because of the poor quality of the creature effects and the studio took the decision to reshoot a new one without the participation of John Hough. The original ending can be viewed on YouTube.

This poster was illustrated by one of my favourite British artists, Brian Bysouth, who worked on a number of posters for Disney during the 1970s and 1980s, including for several of their animated titles. You can read my extensive interview with the man himself by clicking here. The other posters I’ve collected by him can be seen by clicking here.

The original trailer is on YouTube.

One of the best films of the 1980s and certainly one of the Austrian Oak‘s finest roles, Predator is a film I’ve seen more times than I care to remember. Directed by John McTiernan, who would go on to helm Die Hard the following year (arguably the greatest action movie ever made), the film is an excellent mix of gung-ho action and sci-fi horror with a truly iconic monster that has gone on to appear in several (not so great) sequels and spin-offs.

The story sees Schwarzenegger’s team of single-monikered, rough-neck commandos dropped into a dangerous South-American jungle ostensibly on a rescue mission. When they discover a series of butchered and skinned corpses it soon becomes clear that they’re dealing with more than just a bunch of gun-toting guerrillas and someone, or something, is following them through the jungle. The film features several memorable characters, including Native American Sonny Landham‘s Billy, a man-mountain with much-needed tracking skills and the first one to realise they’re not alone, and Bill Duke‘s Mac who memorably leads the charge with a mini-gun when one of his comrades is killed. Like many of Schwarzenegger’s films, Predator is eminently quotable and features countless memorable lines spoken by several of the characters – ‘If it bleeds, we can kill it!’

This quad was put together by a team at the FEREF design agency, including Stephen Laws, Frank Hillary and artist Brian Bysouth. This was one of the first posters by the artist to have been created with photo composition and not painted, as had been the case with his previous posters. In fact, his iconic painting for The Living Daylights was done the same year as this one. In 2012 I published an interview with Brian and the article can be read in full by clicking here. The other posters I’ve collected by him can be seen by clicking here.

A cinematic experience quite unlike any other, Japanese director Nobuhiko Obayashi‘s 1977 masterpiece House is almost impossible to categorize or even describe and simply needs to be seen to be believed. The American distributor Janus Films, who supervised a restoration of the film in 2010, attempt to summarise the film better than I possibly could:

‘How to describe Nobuhiko Obayashi’s 1977 movie House? As a psychedelic ghost tale? A stream-of-consciousness bedtime story? An episode of Scooby Doo as directed by Dario Argento? Any of the above will do for this hallucinatory head trip about a schoolgirl who travels with six classmates to her ailing aunt’s creaky country home, only to come face to face with evil spirits, bloodthirsty pianos, and a demonic housecat. Too absurd to be genuinely terrifying, yet too nightmarish to be merely comic, House seems like it was beamed to Earth from another planet.’

Relatively unknown outside of his native Japan, Obayashi had started his career in the field of experimental filmmaking and quickly forged a reputation as a master visual artist. His skills were soon utilised by advertising agencies and he quickly became a sought-after commercial director, working with Western actors including Sophia Loren and Charles Bronson who were earning lucrative paycheques to hawk various goods. The Japanese studio Toho approached Obayashi and asked him to develop a script for a horror film that would hopefully emulate the great success of Spielberg’s Jaws. The director spoke to his 11-year-old daughter Chigumi to get some inspiration, claiming later that adults “only think about things they understand…everything stays on that boring human level”.

The resultant script, written by Chiho Katsura, included several of Chigumi’s suggestions. Toho green-lit the script and then, after struggling to find a director willing to tackle it, gave the job to Obayashi himself despite him not being a member of the Toho staff. The resultant film is clearly the work of someone who is unafraid to experiment with the medium of film and the director spent two months on Toho’s biggest soundstage shooting the script without storyboards and utilising a whole host of special effects techniques, several of which Obayashi seemingly created especially for this film. House was a huge hit, much to the studio’s surprise, unquestionably helped by the fact that the popular band Godiego providing the best-selling soundtrack, thus cementing the film’s appeal to the youth market.

Despite Japanese success the film wasn’t released outside of the country, that is until Janus Films bought the distribution rights and aided with a digital restoration in preparation for a cinema re-release, and eventually a blu-ray release on their Criterion label in 2010. When the Nashville-based designer and artist Sam Smith (AKA Sam’s Myth) prepared a poster for a preview showing of the film at his local Belcourt Theatre he had no idea that Janus would eventually decide to not only use the image for their official one sheet but also as the cover of the eventual Criterion release. In June 2013 I interviewed Sam and the resultant article can be read here. We discussed the House poster and the following excerpt explains how he arrived at the final design:

How quickly did you arrive at using the image of Blanche the cat as the poster image?
Almost instantly actually. In fact, my friend Zack Hall who is a manager at the Belcourt sent me some images and we were brainstorming at that image of Blanche just jumped out at me and seemed like something I could use. But I wanted to transform it from the screenshot into a graphic piece. The angle of that shot isn’t quite straight on, so I manipulated that, and I gave the cat’s face the entire frame of the poster, removed from the picture frame. I touched the image up and blew it out in black and white, and I just saw this field of red-orange over the whole thing, thinking it could really transform that image into something iconic. The lettering and everything else– the little house illustration– all came very quickly, in a single pass. It’s by far the fastest any poster design has ever come together for me. I didn’t really think much about it and don’t really remember it happening.

Were you surprised at how iconic the Blanche image has ended up being?
A little bit, but I must give credit to Obayashi who came up with this image in the first place. It’s not like I drew it or created it out of my own imagination. I feel that I just plucked it out of the film and tried to transform it graphically into something iconic that represented the insane, exciting, colorful energy of the film, while adding my own touches with the lettering and accoutrements. People loved it though. I suggested making t-shirts and stickers, and I still see people wearing them when I’m at a festival or traveling somewhere. It really taught me that in this day and age, the most important quality of a poster is for its design to feel iconic and eye-catching, above all else. The goal is to get people talking about the film and going to see the film and telling their friends about it, and it’s cool to hear people say “you know, the movie with the poster of the red cat face” and realize you had a role in the film finding its audience.

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Sam’s blog has a post about the creation of the House poster and is well worth a read.

Writer/director and B-movie legend Larry Cohen is responsible for this 1982 horror film that harks back to the popular ‘giant beast’ monster movies of the 1950s. Commonly known as ‘Q: The Winged Serpent’, or simply ‘Q’, the story is set in New York City and follows two police detectives (played by David Carradine and Richard Roundtree) investigating a series of brutal sacrificial slayings in which victims’ hearts and skins have been removed. They are also struggling to explain the mysterious deaths of people snatched from high up on rooftops by what is reported to be a flying lizard.

At the same time, a luckless hoodlum called Jimmy Quinn (played with gusto by Michael Moriarty) is on the run from murderous mobsters and discovers a giant egg hidden in the crown of the famous Chrysler Building, which apparently belongs to the deadly creature. It becomes apparent that the cult behind the sacrificial murders has managed to resurrect an Aztec god known as Quetzalcoatl, a flying lizard with huge talons and a taste for human flesh, and the detectives must battle to stop both the cult members and defeat the beast before New York City is lost.

This is the scarce international one sheet, printed in the USA for use in other English-speaking territories, and it differs greatly from the American one sheet that features artwork by Boris Vallejo. The detailed artwork on this poster is by the American artist Bob Gleason who is probably most famous for his work on the one sheet for John Carpenter’s Halloween. The artist, who lives in Portland, Oregon, has an official website that features galleries of the fine art paintings he currently works on, but makes no mention of his time painting film posters.

A wild design on this one sheet for the 1981 horror featuring a trio of demonic kids. From IMDb:

In 1970, three children are born at the height of a total eclipse. Due to the sun and moon blocking Saturn, which controls emotions, they have become heartless killers ten years later, and are able to escape detection because of their youthful and innocent facades. A boy and his teenage sister become endangered when they stumble onto the bloody truth.

Director Ed Hunt would retire from filmmaking a few years after Bloody Birthday was released with a modest ten films to his name.

I also have the alternative style one sheet in the collection. You can watch the trailer on YouTube.

An entry into the Italian zombie horror genre, Burial Ground (AKA The Nights of Terror) is unquestionably in the shadow of Lucio Fulci’s superior Zombie Flesh Eaters, released only a year before in Italy. The film features several shameless cribs from Fulci’s film, including a scene where an actress is pulled slowly into a broken window, face first. The film features little in the way of a plot with the bare minimum in the way of exposition before the zombie carnage begins. It opens with the spectacularly bearded Professor Ayres unwittingly unleashing a horde of shuffling zombies whilst exploring a crypt in the cemetery behind his mansion. A group of his friends (some colleagues?) arrive shortly after, having been invited to view his discoveries, and there follows a rambling sequence of events in which the guests spout inane dialogue, potter around the mansion and get naked (only breasts, of course) before the first zombie shuffles into their view.

The zombie make-up and gore effects are, for the most part, absolutely atrocious with some of the zombies not even resembling humans in terms of facial features and others looking like some Italian bloke painted grey with a few bits of bacon stuck to his face. There are some undeniably creepy moments and the sets are well utilised but the film is nearly ruined by the appalling music, half of which sounds like it was taken directly from a 1950s ‘space sounds’ record, with bizarre bleeps, bloops and other sci-fi noises happening every time anything remotely exciting happens on screen. One of the most bizarre elements of the film was the decision to cast a 26-year-old dwarf named Peter Bark as Michael, the 11-year-old son of Evelyn (Mariangela Giordano) who has some sort of oedipal relationship with him, made even weirder by the actor’s real age and facial appearance. It has to go down as one of the strangest casting decisions ever made.

The artwork on this one sheet for the 1986 American release, five years after the original Italian debut, is by an American artist called C. Winston Taylor, about whom very little can be found online. The Lost Video Archive blog has a post on the artist that features images of some of his other posters and video covers. In the 1990s the artist was hired to paint the covers for a Quantum Leap comic book series and a gallery of those images can be viewed on this site, which also features three images of the artist himself. Comicbookdb.com features a small profile of Taylor with the following mini-biography:

C. Winston Taylor always knew from a young age that he would communicate through his drawings. Fighting in the jungles of Vietnam, where he earned two Bronze Stars, helped solidify this vision. After graduating with honors from the Art Center College of Design, in Los Angeles, he quickly became a well-respected illustrator. His work has received numerous awards and he served as the president of The Society of Illustrators of Los Angeles. 

The other posters I’ve collected with artwork by him can be seen by clicking here.

A striking design on this poster for the US release of Brian De Palma’s The Fury, the movie that followed his horror classic Carrie (1976). The director continued the theme of telekinesis that he’d started with Sissy Spacek’s teenager pushed over the edge, and in this picture there are two young telekinetics who start the picture unsure why they’ve been granted this strange power and who are unable to control it. The film opens with Kirk Douglas‘ Peter Sandza, an agent for an ‘organisation you didn’t even know exists’, and his son Robin relaxing on a beach in the Middle East with Sandza’s colleague Ben Childress (played by John Cassavetes). Suddenly the peace is shattered with an attack by terrorists who rush the crowded beach and attempt to shoot Peter who manages to fight several of them off before being seemingly killed in an explosion. The audience soon discover that Childress has double-crossed his friend in order to kidnap Robin and investigate his apparent telekinesis for shadowy means. Peter survives the explosion and realises what his friend has done, almost killing him with gunfire, but Childress escapes with Robin.

Fast forward a few years and we learn that Peter has been obsessively searching for his son whilst being pursued by the shadowy agency intent on killing him. At the same time, teenager Gillian Bellaver (Amy Irving, a Carrie alumni) is struggling to understand the powers she’s been gifted with and, after a few incidents involving other pupils at her school, her mother decides to put her into a special institution that has been set up to deal with those with psychic potential. The viewer discovers that the place is actually funded by Childress and his nefarious organisation but, unbeknownst to them, Peter has a mole inside the school and is hoping that Gillian will be able to help find the whereabouts of his son. After Gillian makes a connection with Robin, Peter and his compatriot stage a breakout and set off to try and rescue Robin, but it may already be too late…

The Fury is definitely one of De Palma’s better efforts, even if it’s not up there with Carrie. It features several exciting sequences, including the initial faked terrorist attack, and at least one trademark bravura slow-motion sequence that’s impeccably executed. Both Douglas and Cassavetes are excellent and Amy Irving also puts in a decent performance. The special effects mostly stand-up and it’s a thrill to see the full power of telekinesis being unleashed after having it teased at several points in Carrie (we see what happens if the power is directed at a single human body, pre-Scanners). I’m unsure who’s responsible for this poster so please get in touch if you have any ideas.