Mexploitation cinema : a critical history of Mexican vampire, wrestler, ape-man, and similar films, 1957-1977

256 Pages·2005·6.21 MB·English

by  Greene

Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Introduction
1. Mexploitation: Horror, Mexican Style
2. Mexploitation: A Critical Inquiry
3. El baron del terror
4. El Santo, el Enmascarado de Plata
5. Las Luchadoras
6. El horripilante bestia humana
Conclusion: The End of Mexploitation
Selected Filmography
Chapter Notes
Bibliography
Index of Terms
Mexploitation Cinema
A Critical History of Mexican
Vampire, Wrestler, Ape-Man
and Similar Films, 1957–1977
Doyle Greene
McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers
Jefferson, North Carolina, and London
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGUING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Greene, Doyle, 1962–
Mexploitation cinema : a critical history of Mexican vampire, wrestler, ape-man
and similar films, 1957–1977 / Doyle Greene.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 0-7864-2201-7
1. Exploitation films—Mexico—History and criticism.
2. Sensationalism in motion pictures. I. Title
PN1995.9.S284G74 2005 791.43'653—dc22 2005011057
British Library cataloguing data are available
©2005 Doyle Greene. All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, or by
any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from
the publisher.
On the cover: Promotional artwork from the 1957 film El Tesoro de Pancho
Villa
McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers
Box 611, Jefferson, North Carolina 28640
www.mcfarlandpub.com
For Kathleen Newman,
whose enthusiasm for a paper on El Santoin
a course on Mexican cinema at the
University of Iowa made this project possible
Acknowledgments
I owe an enormous debt of thanks to Rob Craig, whose “Wonder World of K.
Gordon Murray” website provided invaluable historical material regarding
Murray’s illustrious career and Mexican horror cinema. Additionally, Rob
contributed numerous insightful comments throughout the course of this project
and generously provided several illustrations. Another substantial debt is owed
to David Wilt, as my numerous citations to his work indicate. His “Films of El
Santo” website and myriad other sources pertaining to Mexican cinema supplied
an indispensable wealth of material, and he also generously provided many
illuminating comments and suggestions. Simply put, without the efforts,
research, and contributions of Rob Craig and David Wilt, I shudder to speculate
to what extent, or even if, my own work on Mexican horror cinema could have
developed. Thanks also to Brian Moran at the “Santo Street” website for his
assistance in compiling my own collection of Mexican cinema and Azteca
Studios lobby cards.
Thanks to the following academic programs: The Master of Liberal Studies
Program and the Department of Cultural Studies and Comparative Literature at
the University of Minnesota, and the Film Studies Program and Department of
Cinema and Comparative Literature at the University of Iowa. My work in these
settings provided both the intellectual inspiration and the opportunity to explore
trash cinema in a serious context. Finally, thanks to my family and friends for
their support, above all to my late parents, Earl and Laura Greene.
Introduction:
Why Mexploitation?
From approximately 1957 to 1977, one of the more popular genres in Mexican
cinema consisted of horror films featuring an array of vampires, Aztec
mummies, mad scientists, ape-men, and various other macabre menaces.
However, the most striking and famous aspect of these horror films was their
incorporation of lucha libre (Mexican professional wrestling), resulting in
numerous movies that starred not only fiendish monsters but a variety of popular
luchadores (wrestlers), including one of the most important figures in Mexican
popular culture: El Santo, el Enmascarado de Plata (“The Saint, the Silver-
Masked Man”)—universally known simply as “Santo.” It is this collection of
horror and horror-wrestling movies that have been termed mexploitation by both
cult-film fans and, more recently, Latin American film scholars.
Certainly, much of mexploitation’s notoriety in America has so far centered on
its cult-film credentials: the limited budgets born out of the conditions of the
Mexican film industry; the surreal qualities generated by their eclectic merging
of disparate film genres and other elements of Mexican popular culture; and the
enigmatic dubbing of the films provided by exploitation entrepreneur K. Gordon
Murray, who single-handedly introduced mexploitation cinema to America via
late-night television and drive-ins during the 1960s. Unfortunately, in the United
States mexploitation films have been widely ridiculed; at best they are granted a
“so bad they’re good” status.
My own intention in exploring mexploitation cinema is to move beyond the
debate of whether, or to what degree, these films have any sort of artistic
integrity or legitimacy. Rather, this project will focus on how mexploitation
films, as products of a specific time and place, are entertaining, insightful, and,
yes, important cultural documents that address the conditions, contradictions,
and visions of contemporary Mexican society, politics, and culture. It is my
contention that any discussion of the historical and cultural importance of
“Mexican national cinema” could, and should, include the mexploitation era as
well as the Golden Age of Mexican cinema or the films of Luis Buñuel.
In pursuing this critical history, I have adopted an interdisciplinary approach,
combining research in cultural theory, film studies, and Mexican history and
combining research in cultural theory, film studies, and Mexican history and
popular culture. I pay specific attention to the historical and cultural context in
which these films were produced; close textual analysis of specific films; and,
perhaps most importantly, the consistent ideological messages these films offer.
In keeping with these areas of emphasis, this book is roughly divided into three
sections, each focusing on a crucial facet of mexploitation.
The first section, composed of the first three chapters, might be said to spotlight
early mexploitation. Chapter One provides an historical overview of Mexico’s
political situation and the economic conditions of the Mexican film industry in
the late 1950s, which laid the foundation for the development of mexploitation; a
brief overview of some of the key films and figures in mexploitation cinema;
and the subsequent introduction of these films to America. Chapter Two argues
that mexploitation can be viewed as far more than camp oddities, but instead
forms a strange “counter-cinema” that addresses key issues in Mexican society:
the valorization of mexicanidad (Mexican national identity), the cultural conflict
between modernity and tradition, and issues of gender politics. Chapter Three
employs what is probably Murray’s most famous mexploitation import, The
Brainiac, as a specific case study the issues outlined in the previous chapters.
Chapter Four constitutes the second section of this project and is devoted to a
historical and critical discussion of the lucha libre films (focusing, perhaps
inevitably, on the legendary El Santo). A short history of the lucha libre genre,
an analysis of the cultural significance of lucha libre in Mexican society, and an
overview of the iconic status of Santo in Mexico provides the contextual
framework for a discussion of three seminal Santo films (all of which also
address the issues of mexicanidad, modernity, and gender): the Murray import
Santo vs. the Vampire Women (retitled Samson vs. the Vampire Women in
America), Santo, el Enmascarado de Plata vs. la invasión de los marcianos
(Santo, the Silver-Masked Man vs. the Invasion of the Martians), and Santo y
Blue Demon contra Drácula y el Hombre Lobo (Santo and Blue Demon vs.
Dracula and the Wolf Man).
The third section consists of Chapters Five and Six, which will concentrate on
legendary Mexican director René Cardona’s Luchadoras (“Wrestling Women”)
films from 1962 to 1968. Chapter Five provides an examination of Cardona’s
first two “Wrestling Women” entries, the Murray imports Doctor of Doom and
Wrestling Women vs. the Aztec Mummy. Chapter Six focuses on the final film of
the “Wrestling Women” cycle, the horror-exploitation classic Night of the
Bloody Apes. Once again, critical inquiry will center on how Cardona’s films
address the social and cultural issues of mexicanidad, modernity, and especially
gender and sexual politics in highly problematic and often hilarious ways.
Ultimately, this project is not intended to argue that one day mexploitation
directors such as René Cardona and Chano Urueta will be considered as
cinematically influential or artistically accomplished as Luis Buñuel or Paul
Leduc. However, it will argue that mexploitation films, while certainly
provoking more than their share of ironic amusement and amazement, also
provide perceptive studies of Mexican society; and, as such, merit serious
critical attention. Perhaps, as absurd as it may initially sound, it is possible to
posit that The Brainiac or Night of the Bloody Apes might one day be mentioned
in the same breath as Bride of Frankenstein or Psycho.
1
Mexploitation:
Horror, Mexican Style
Mexican Horror Cinema in Social Context
Throughout the twentieth century, the two primary and inherently related
political projects designed to create a modern Mexico were the establishment of
a Mexican national identity and the development of an industrial-consumer
economy. However, by the 1950s, the political and cultural efforts to instill a
sense of mexicanidad were demonstrating signs of serious disarray. As described
by Carlos Monsiváis, the construction of a modern Mexican nationalism proved
to be an utter failure by ignoring and even denying Mexico’s history and cultural
heritage:
The 1950s were a decade in which a struggle was lost. During the Ruiz
Cortines period [the presidential administration from 1952 to 1958] the
concept of nationalism is irreversibly ruined, to be replaced with
another kind of mentality—not devotedly colonial, still linked to very
deep national ideas, but indifferent to tradition, unable to facilitate
coherent visions of the national past and future.1
It can be said that an ahistorical nationalism was fomented in Mexico, one
which viewed the past as an obsolete liability and envisioned the future through
the vague and idealized possibilities of modern progress—a consistent
ideological position ultimately taken by numerous mexploitation films. Latin
American film scholars such as Carl J. Mora contend that one specific area of
Mexican popular culture where this crucial loss of direction in Mexican politics
during the 1950s seemed to be especially evident and debilitating was in
Mexican cinema:
In 1958, Aldofo López Mateos was designated candidate for president.
During his administration (1958–64), the film industry was to enter its
darkest days…. Producers of nonexistent social vision in combination