Mike Mignola’s Bride of Frankenstein Poster Goes On Sale

Heads up! Mondo’s new Bride of Frankenstein poster by Mike Mignola goes on sale today, June 5, 2014. The time of release will be announced on Mondo’s Facebook page and Twitter. Print run is strictly limited to 325 copies, going for $50 apiece. I expect it will sell out in a very few minutes.

Hellboy creator Mignola has drawn several Frankenstein images evoking the Universal classics, as well as original pieces, all perfectly scrumptious. A number of these can be seen through the links below.

Release info from Mondo Posters

Related:

Hellboy Meets Frankenstein

Mike Mignola’s Bride of Frankenstein

World Horror Convention Poster

Lobster Johnson Meets Frankenstein

The Art of Frankenstein: Mike Mignola

Covers: The Frankenstein Dracula War

The Bride and the Betrothed

Lobby Card degli orrori

Thought I was done with the Casa degli orrori ad campaign, but head-scratcher gems just keep popping up! 

In our two previous posts, we’ve seen how the Italian promotion for Universal’s Monster Rally of 1945, House of Dracula, generated fanciful posters and odd credits. Here’s one more, a lobby card, this time. 

The featured performer is Jane “Poni” Adams as, Nina, one of the most unusual characters in the Universal canon: A female hunchbacked assistant. On some of the American posters for the film, Nina, “The Hunchback!”, was listed as one of the film’s star creatures along with Frankenstein’s Monster, Dracula, Wolf Man and the Mad Doctor.

What’s weird about this lobby card — misspelled “Martha” aside — is the appearance at left on the painted framing art of the Frankenstein Monster’s old friend, Ygor! Originally played by Bela Lugosi, the broken-necked Ygor was a memorable character in Son of Frankenstein (1939) and its direct sequel, The Ghost of Frankenstein (1942), in which he was ultimately crushed to death, his brains saved and plopped into The Monster’s flat skull. Lugosi would go on to play The Monster himself in Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943), and Glenn Strange took over the part with House of Frankenstein in 1944.

Perhaps the artist was given a package of stills and advertising material from previous Frankenstein films to play with as he worked on the lobby card design. Ygor’s rough and menacing features, combined with a desolate, windswept mansion and dead trees made for a nice, spooky background. The art, unfortunately uncredited, is rather good.

Related:
The House of Errors
More Casa degli orrori Posters

More Casa degli orrori Posters

Following up on our previous post about credit mixups on an Italian House of Dracula (1945) poster, looking up alternate posters for the film reveals a pattern of slapdash art and random credits. Here, Carradine’s face is a competent likeness by artist Cesselon, but his costume is barely sketched out in hurried, bold strokes, and that Wolf Man is a mess. Martha O’Driscoll appears in monochrome, and there’s a rough castle wall and window. Note the credits: Chaney, Carradine, Atwill, O’Driscoll… and Frankenstein, the name-checked Monster probably a better box-office draw than actor Glenn Strange.

Another poster, vertical insert style, artist unknown, features a purely generic fanged vampire and a terrified blonde against a seaside fortress/castle. O’Driscoll’s name is misspelled and the film’s title is now Dracula nella casa degli orrori — Dracula in the House of Horrors.

The rough art and haphazard credits across this series of posters suggests precipitous deadlines and what was most likely a very low budget promotional campaign.  

Related: The House of Errors

The House of Errors

La Casa degli orrori — The House of Horrors — was the Italian title for 1945’s House of Dracula, Universal’s penultimate “Monster Rally”. The garishly colored manifesto is an early effort for painter/illustrator Angelo Cesselon (1922-1992) who would go on to a brilliant and influential thirty-plus-year career as a movie poster artist renowned for his portrait work. Although his Frankenstein Monster and Wolf Man here are very fanciful interpretations, note the excellent likenesses of Onslow Stevens and John Carradine.

Speaking of Onslow Stevens, notice anything? Prominently featured, top left, the film’s lead — playing a scientist who cures Chaney’s lycanthropy only to be tragically poisoned by Carradine’s vampire blood — is inexplicably identified as Ludwig Stössel, the perennial supporting actor who appears as a doomed gardener. Another mistake: Top right, the Frankenstein Monster is credited to Boris Karloff. Mind you, Karloff does appear as The Monster in brief stock footage scenes lifted from Bride of Frankenstein, as does Chaney from The Ghost of Frankenstein, but the role in this film, of course, belongs to Glenn Strange.

Mixed-up credits aside, La Casa degli orrori is a dynamic poster with pulp illustration sensibilities.

See more Casa degli orrori posters.

A two-minute short film about a Cesselon retrospective exhibition.

Angelo Cesselon website.

The Art of Frankenstein : Laurent Durieux

Belgian artist Laurent Durieux is a veteran A-list illustrator whose work has only recently become known in North America, mostly through his alternate movie posters created for Mondo. Durieux’ talent is on generous display in his singular take on James Whale’s Frankenstein.

Illustrating the pivotal flower scene, Durieux focuses on The Monster, holding a daisy. Note the little girl’s presence as a shadow, barely visible, under the titles. Note the ominous background, a field of brambles. Note The Monster’s expression, hesitant, perhaps captivated by the flower’s fragrance, trying to understand what is happening.

The Monster’s brief existence has been couched in fear and violence. Roaming the countryside, he encounters a child who takes him by the hand and invites him to play. It is the only solace he will ever know. In the next instant, everything will go terribly wrong. You can see the wheels turning in his head. Is the little girl like a flower?

Durieux has captured a fleeting moment, at once beautiful and terrible, suspended in time. A key scene, a simple statement, beautifully designed and rendered, laden with meaning.

Durieux’ posters are typically charged with suspense. A poster for The Wolf Man captures the cursed Larry Talbot’s despair at the soul-crushing moment when he has just begun to transform. A poster for The Mummy is full of mystery, romance and terror, a knife signifying that immortal life begins with death. Durieux favors genre films, fantasy worlds and space opera, everything from King Kong and The Wizard of Oz to Metropolis and Buck Rogers. His Frankenstein poster, you will agree, is a masterpiece.

Visit Laurent Durieux’ website and portfolio.

Mondo poster site.

Rare Frankenstein Insert Card

It’s a bit of a miracle when something like this surfaces. Long ago, movie posters, paper ephemera, were typically discarded after use. Miraculously, 82 long years later, this insert card — 14 by 36 inches — survives, and it is likely the only one of its kind still in existence. Click the image to see it bigger.

ABCNews.com reports that this Frankenstein poster was bought by a Chicago man “for a few dollars” in the late Sixties. It is now up for auction with bidding currently at $75,000. It could top $100,000 by the time it is adjudicated, on July 27.

The image of The Monster’s head floating above Mae Clarke sprawled in a faint, here bathed in golden light, was used on several different posters and in newspaper ads. Karloff’s underlit face (see below) is one of the most striking of a series of promotional photographs by Universal’s Roman Freulich.

Unique here is the poster size and the gorgeous color treatment, with orange and yellow dots splashing off the image. It is, by far, the most colorful and jazzy of all the Frankenstein posters.

Follow the bidding on the new, redesigned Heritage Auctions website. Heritage Auctions is America’s biggest auction house and the third largest in the world.

Update! The Frankenstein Insert Card was sold on July 27, 2013 for a staggering $262,900.00, more than twice the top estimate for this item. 

Son of Frankenstein fotobusta

Karloff’s Monster — holding the son of the Son of Frankenstein (1939) — strikes a commanding pose on this fotobusta, a large-format Italian lobby card. The photo insert shows The Monster mourning his felled friend, Lugosi’s Igor.

The monochromatic art is by the Corsican-born Francesco Giammari (1908-1973) who first came to prominence with his superb woodcuts illustrating the history and ethnography of his homeland. Moving to Italy, Giammari’s produced highly-charged symbolic art promoting the annexation of Corsica, a fascist ideal of the time. Today, Giammari, is regarded as one of the great Corsican artists for his early woodcuts as well as his fine art paintings and atmospheric landscapes.

Giammari’s movie poster art, running from the Thirties into the late Sixties, is quite traditional, generally featuring large portraits of the film’s principals. The striking, expressionistic Figlio di Frankenstein art shown here is a bit of a departure. Some of Giammari’s poster work is signed, simply, “Giam”. Note that he is sometimes misidentified in listings as “Gian Mari”.

Image source

The Art of Frankenstein : Rich Kelly

The most original, the most imaginative movie posters created today aren’t displayed on theater fronts. The best work, by far, is found in the limited edition art prints for films, contemporary or classics, such as those offered by Mondo of Austin, Texas. Case in point, this Son of Frankenstein poster by Rich Kelly.

The Karloff Monster, roped to its slab, is lifted to the laboratory by Lugosi’s Ygor. Baron Wolf von Frankenstein is seen reading by the light of a vast fireplace while Inspector Krogh explores the recesses of the Frankenstein premises. The title logo evokes the modern gothic letters carved over the door to the Frankenstein mansion.

The poster was offered in three versions, the variants using different colors and glow in the dark inks. One version added a menacing Monster’s silhouette hovering over Lionel Atwill’s Krogh. The set, as with most of the Mondo poster offerings, sold out within minutes of being offered.

Rich Kelly’s work is, in a word, spectacular. The Son of Frankenstein posters are shown in closeup details here. Kelly’s art appears in the gallery on his website and on his Tumblr.

The Posters of Frankenstein : Luigi Martinati

Escaping the lab, broken chain trailing from its hairy claw, The Monster’s shadow falls on a victim in this fanciful image for the Italian release of Hammer’s The Curse of Frankenstein (1957).

Artist Luigi Martinati’s career began with billboard art and advertising campaigns, notably for Fiat. He started painting movie posters in the early Thirties, eventually devoting himself exclusively to film from the mid-Forties and straight on through the Sixties, sharing the workload — and a similar style of art — with fellow painters Anselmo Ballester and Alfredo Capitani, operating as Studio BCM. Martinati’s signature, when it appears, is usually found at the top of the poster.

Shown here are Martinati posters for Them (1954), Wuthering Heights (1939) and Hammer’s The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll (1960).

Martinati created another striking poster for Hammer’s Frankenstein film (previously posted here), showing The Monster’s shackled claw grasping at a window.

Luigi Martinati passed away in 1983, at age 90.

Two generous galleries of Martinati posters: Il Manifesto Storico and MoviePosterDB.

Related:
La Maschera di Frankenstein

The Posters of Frankenstein : Small Run Bride of Frankenstein, 1935

Here’s a nice, small-run typographical poster for Bride of Frankenstein — Adults! 15 cents! — playing in October 1935 at Bird’s Rivoli, a movie house in East Tawas on Saginaw Bay at Lake Huron. The week’s worth of films advertised were all new, all from 1935.

Independent, out of the way and catering to a small-town crowd, films never ran long — Bride played only four times over two days — and it made no sense to spend money and send away for lithographed posters and lobby cards. Simple cards like this one, printed locally, did the job. Only a handful would be produced, jazzed up with yellow, green or orange colors, for front-of-house display and, perhaps, distribution to nearby stores and pasting on fences within the community.

Details are scarce but promoter Herman Bird was active in Michigan, operating several theaters from the silent era and into the Fifties, including the Family Theater, and another Rivoli in Grand Rapids. Bird’s Rivoli on US23 in East Tawas was also known as the Bay Theater for a while. It closed some fifty years ago, its building surviving as a meeting hall. Ultimately, it was leveled and turned into a parking lot.

Related:
The Bride of the Bronx

The Frankenstein Theory

Frankenstein titles are proliferating. Among the completed titles are I, Frankenstein, now being adapted for 3-D release, as well as Frankenstein’s Army and Army of Frankensteins, two different films. The first is Richard Raaphorst’s much anticipated WWII horror that has Dr. Frankenstein churning out super-soldier monsters for the Nazi cause. The latter entry is a time travel tale with a host of parallel universe Frankenstein Monsters, and one Abraham Lincoln.   

The Frankenstein Theory deals with a scientific expedition traveling to the edge of the Arctic Circle to investigate the intriguing premise that Mary Shelley’s famous fiction was actually inspired by the true facts of “a horrific experiment gone awry”. 

The film is of the “found footage” genre, the trailer is familiarly replete with actors’ asides to the camera, greenish night vision scenes and sudden shocks followed by a fumbled camera. The Monster of the tale, however, is clearly depicted on the poster.

The Frankenstein Theory’s page on iTune Trailers. 

Frankensteinian: Homunculus (1916)

Clones clash on this Hungarian poster for the German Das Ende des Homunculus, the sixth and final episode of the epic, eight and a half hours-long silent serial directed by Otto Rippert.

In the end, the Homunculus is confronted with an identical copy of himself, specifically created and trained to destroy the original. The Hungarian poster, elegant and tense, was created by Nandor Honti. 

Danish-born actor Olaf Fönss became a European matinee idol through his forceful interpretation of the soulless, lab-created Homunculus who sets out to destroy mankind. Like T.P.Cooke, the British stage actor whose blue-green makeup as the Frankenstein Monster inspired vert de monstre fashions in the Paris of 1826, Fönss’s costumes were a hit with the Berlin dandies of 1916.

Images from Homunculus and episode descriptions by Ian Turpen on Flickr.

Poster source: Adrian Curry on MUBI.

The Bride Plays The Fantasy Theater

It’s June 1935 and Bride of Frankenstein is coming to the Fantasy Theater on Rock Park Avenue in Rockville Center, Long Island.

Zooming in on the marquee, a scalloped banner promises cool, comfortable refrigeration to beat the summer heat. Currently playing, a mismatched double-bill has Cardinal Richelieu, a George Arliss costumer, backed with the rough and tumble Hold ‘Em Yale with Buster Crabbe. Perhaps the only thing these two films had in common was a young Cesar Romero in supporting roles. Frankenstein connections: Cardinal Richelieu was directed by Rowland V. Lee who would go on to produce and direct the next Frankenstein film, 1939’s Son of Frankenstein, and Lon Chaney Jr., in a tiny bit part as a football player in Hold ‘Em Yale would, of course, replace Karloff as The Monster in 1942 and go on to share screen time as The Wolf Man opposite The Monster in four Monster Rallies.

Squinting is required to read the front of the marquee: Starts Fri June 21 (or the 28^th?)… 3 Days Only… Boris Karloff in Bride of Frankenstein. Supporting feature announced is Age of Indiscretion, a soaper starring Paul Lukas. Easier to see is the spectacular poster high up on the side wall overlooking the parking lot. The beautiful art looked terrific in color…

The Bride in a satin wedding gown swings a bridal bouquet as she is swept away by her Monster Romeo. Artist unidentified, but I suspect it’s Fred Kulz, a Universal artist who produced several illustrations for the Bride campaign.

From today’s perspective, three days doesn’t sound like much of a run, but remember, movies were a national pastime back then. Programs would typically include two features, comedy and musical shorts, a cartoon and newsreels. With no TV to compete with, many theaters changed their offerings twice a week to keep up with the demand. Shows played morning, noon and late into the evening, and theaters were huge. On its Friday through Sunday run, Bride of Frankenstein could have easily filled most of the Fantasy’s 1600 seats for every performance.

Built in 1929, the Fantasy survives to this day, multiplexed and operating as the AMC Loews Fantasy 5. The area is built up, the theater is squeezed between buildings and its elaborate Moorish façade has long since disappeared under plain stucco.

Photo source: Fritz Frising/Headless Hearseman Archives. With thanks to Fritz Frising who was manager at the Fantasy sixty years after this photo was taken. 

The Line Starts Here

Spotted on the Zombos’ Closet blog, this remarkable photo showing patrons crowding the lobby and trailing out to the street, waiting to see Frankenstein (1931) on its first run. The anticipation is palpable. Soon as the usher drops the velvet rope, you know there’s going to be a scramble for the best seats in the house.

Oh, to have seen Frankenstein back then. Today, the film’s themes and design have been sampled to the point of becoming clichés, and The Monster is a universal icon. We can only imagine how perfectly thrilling it must have been when the film was new.  

There’s no provenance given here, this could be any theater in the English-speaking world. Note the fabulous and very rare “graverobber” poster. I don’t know of any of these that have survived. I’ve only seen this image before on a Swedish poster and as a line drawing used in newspaper ads. 

Zombos’ Closet, operated by John Cozzoli, is a superlative blog devoted to the celebration of horror in popular culture. It touches everything from Halloween and B-Movies to discussions on horror fiction and serious studies of the genre. It is also a wonderful resource for images. Case in point, check out this recent posting of the complete, original 1942 pressbook for The Ghost of Frankenstein.

With thanks to John Cozzoli. 

The Posters of Frankenstein : La Fiancée de Frankenstein

After all these years, there are still wonderful images that surface for us to marvel at. Currently on offer from Heritage Auctions is this stunning poster announcing a January 1936 showing of La Fiancée de Frankenstein.

The unusual layout features colorized photographs. The artist went overboard with Boris Karloff’s Monster done up with green skin, yellow highlights, red eyes and rouged cheeks. Ernest Thesiger’s Dr. Pretorius is more controlled, with champagne hair, and Elsa Lanchester’s Bride is beautifully rendered, with blonde hairstreaks.

The poster, its designer unfortunately unidentified, is another beautiful print by Belgian lithographer L. F. De Vos & Cie whose artist in the mid-30s included a moonlighting René Magritte, no less. We’ll never know if he worked on a Frankenstein poster but, hey, wouldn’t that be something if he did?

Related:
Belgian poster for Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man

Shock Showmanship

“The two most terrifying creatures of all time” square off in a desolate landscape with swirling bats. A tantalizing trade ad in Universal’s Exhibitor’s Book of 1942 pitches the first Meeting of the Monsters, with Lon Chaney Jr. playing both Frankenstein AND the Wolf Man.

The dual casting idea was a great publicity hook, locking in Lon Chaney as the studio’s all-purpose go-to monster guy. It made sense continuity-wise, with Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man conceived by writer Curt Siodmak as a direct sequel to both The Wolf Man (1941), Chaney’s signature role, and The Ghost of Frankenstein (1942), in which Chaney had taken over the boots and bolts from Karloff. On the other hand, the trick casting would have been problematic, with expensive and time-consuming split-screen effects needed for Chaney’s Larry Talbot to interact with Chaney barely recognizable under the heavy makeup of the Frankenstein Monster. In fact, after Bela Lugosi was recruited to play The Monster, he would be spelled throughout the film by stand-ins, and the climactic “horror-battle” featured two stunt performers, with insert shots of Chaney and Lugosi snarling in closeup.

In the end, despite a difficult shoot and some choppy editing to cover its problems, Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man turned out as one of Universal’s most entertaining sorties, its considerable success launching a series of so-called Monster Rally films that brought Frankenstein and the Wolf Man together again, with Dracula and assorted mad scientists and hunchbacked assistants thrown in, culminating in 1948 with the whole gang of monsters going up against Abbott and Costello.

Related:

When Frankenstein Met the Wolf Man

Son of Frankenstein trade ad, 1939

The Monster swoops like a greenish ghost out of a foreboding castle and flies over a desolate landscape in an unusual trade magazine ad for Son of Frankenstein (1939). Most curious of all is The Monster’s smile. Was the studio downplaying the horror aspect, or is The Monster happy with his success as he “Scares the country into Box office records…”?

Produced and directed by Rowland V. Lee, Son of Frankenstein was put into production soon after a revival double-bill of the 1931 classics, Dracula and Frankenstein, did exceptional business. The film signaled the beginning of a new wave of Universal horrors that would return Frankenstein, Dracula and The Mummy to the screen along with a new player, the Wolf Man, culminating in the multiple-monster rallies of the mid-Forties and a momentous 1948 meeting with Abbott and Costello.

Son of Frankenstein starred Boris Karloff in his third and last appearance as The Monster and introduced Bela Lugosi as the scruffy, scene-stealing Igor. The film also features Basil Rathbone, who would make his first Sherlock Holmes film the same year, and Lionel Atwill as the wooden-armed Inspector Krogh. Son would go on to be the main inspiration for Gene Wilder and Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein (1974). 

Image source

The Posters of Frankenstein : Spanish Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein

Abbott and Costello Meet the Ghosts was the Spanish title — as it was in the UK. In some countries, it was Abbott and Costello Meet the Monsters. In France, it was called Two Nitwits vs Frankenstein and in Germany, it was Mein Gott, Frankenstein.

Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948) was the most influencial horror-comedy ever made, revolutionizing a genre occupied by haunted house spoofs and escaped gorilla farces, spawning an industry of local-comics-meet-classic-monsters copycat versions worldwide. The originals, Bud Abbott and Lou Costello, went on to Meet Universal’s Invisible Man and the Mummy, plus Boris Karloff playing Jekyll — Hyde was a stuntman — in one film, and a murderous fake swami in another.

The Spanish poster by Fernando Albericio shows the cartooned-up comedy duo pursued by a flying Dracula, the Wolf Man and a Frankenstein’s Monster with Karloff’s face instead of Glenn Strange’s. Albericio was prolific through the Fifties and Sixties, and comfortable in all genres.

A gallery of posters by Fernando Albericio.

Image source: Dr. Macro

Related:
Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein Knock Offs
The Legacy of Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, by Frank Dietz
The Making of Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein

The Posters of Frankenstein : French Son of Frankenstein Re-release

Little Peter von Frankenstein (Donnie Dunagan) is hostage to his granddad’s rampaging Monster on this French 1970s re-release poster for Son of Frankenstein (1939). The photo, as it turns out, is a clever composite image.

The photo combines two stills from the film’s climax. The main image shows The Monster in action, hands blurred, with a guide rope cutting diagonally across his left shoulder and arm. The second image has Karloff’s Monster holding the child under one arm in a scene where he confronts Rathbone’s Frankenstein and Atwill’s Inspector Krogh.

The child and Karloff’s arm holding him were cut from one photo, then scaled and pasted onto the other. In pre-Photoshop days, the trick involved careful outlining of the characters in white gouache, painting out the background. The photos were cut, the pieces brought together, carefully aligned and re-photographed. Finally, probably using a Photo Retouch Kit — once standard equipment in a graphic artist’s tool kit — special gouaches were mixed to replicate the grays and blend the two images seamlessly. The background effect was either airbrushed or pencil tones, and the photo looks like it was screened for effect as it went to press.

In a career spanning five decades, artist and designer Xarrie (here credited as “Xarrié”) produced movie posters in a wide range of styles including caricature, classic painted scenes and photo manipulation. His genre contributions include posters for George Franju’s Judex (1963) and George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (1968). He produced another strong photo-poster for the re-release of Island of Lost Souls (1933) by simply and very effectively applying a bright yellow to a Karl Struss publicity still.

With its austere design, its dominant, wholly original image and bold, straightforward typesetting, Xarrie’s Le Fils de Frankenstein is one of the more unconventional of all Frankenstein movie posters.

Photo Retouch Kit, image source.

The Posters of Frankenstein : Constantin Belinsky

The Monster and attending Mad Scientists are blinded by the light of a glorious, luminescent Bride on this pastel poster by Constantin Belinsky (1904-1999) marking the release of Bride of Frankenstein in France, in 1935.

Belinsky arrived in Paris from his native Ukraine in 1925. He would come to share his time between commercial work as a movie poster artist and fine arts as an award-winning sculptor. His first poster was a vivid one-sheet for Scarface with a prominent credit for Boris Karloff. Though many of his posters were done in traditional oils, he was also known for his unique, modernistic posters with angular drawings and flat, vibrant colors.

After a wartime lull when his poster work fell way off — he managed to produce two elaborate posters for the 1943 Phantom of the Opera — Belinsky picked up again in the late Forties and became, through the next three decades, one of the most prolific movie poster artists in Europe. He would create art for the French release of such genre titles as The Incredible Shrinking Man, The Mole People, Creature from the Black Lagoon (and sequels), The Deadly Mantis, The Monolith Monsters, Monster on the Campus, Dinosaurus and Destroy All Monsters.

Belinsky also produced numerous posters for Sword and Sandal epics, Spaghetti Westerns and B-grade gangster movies, culminating in a series of Seventies Kung Fu action posters until his retirement in 1983. Along the way, he painted a number of Hammer Films posters, notably Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde, and classic exploitation work including Ricardo Freda’s The Specter of Dr. Hichcock (aka The Ghost) and Jean Rollin’s The Lake of the Living Dead/Zombie Lake.

Constantin Belinsky’s fabulous Fiancée poster is signed “C Belin”, a form he abandoned early in favor of “C Belinsky” or, more often, simple initials: “CB”. Film historian Christophe Blier published a book, Constantin Belinsky: 60 ans d’affiches de cinéma in 2000. Long out of print, it deserves to be reissued.

Related:
The Posters of Frankenstein