< Lights go out >
PENFOLD: Aargh! What’s going on?
DM : I don’t know, I’m a bit in the dark myself! Stay close.
< Bump >
DM : Not that close.
< Swishing, dragging noise >
DM : Penfold?
P : Yes?
DM : Pick your feet up.
P : If I do that, I’ll fall over.
DM : Oh good grief, Penfold. I mean don’t
make that dragging sound.
< Sound continues >
DM : Penfold, why are you holding my hand?
P : I was just going to ask you that.
DM : And take those silly fur gloves off!

What great dialogue! No, I mean it. You see, it’s one thing to fill a cartoon with visual jokes and impossible coincidences, but in their absence your characters sound like they’re just talking to each other. Unless, of course, your lines are brilliant and delivered with the timing and loveable excess of, say, David Jason and Terry Scott! No go back and read the “script” again and see what I mean! Even better, do it with a friend.

After that rather oblique introduction, you are probably wondering why I consider the “Danger Mouse” series (originally called “Danger Mouse to the Rescue”) to be among the best cartoons made. Not technically flash or thought provoking perhaps, but with that quality that marks out only the great cartoons – universality. All ages and all backgrounds find DM entertaining. This is probably why Thames TV, who bought all the programs, insisted on showing it at 5 o’clock or earlier so that it missed the huge (cult) audience it should have attracted. I went to a Cosgrove Hall afternoon presentation around the time that their next major undertaking (“The Wind in the Willows”) was in full swing. The audience was, er, a little older than I expected! Looking at the scripts and storyboards, my initial impression was of a cartoon made on a low budget (most of the cost was hiring David Jason for the sound takes) and with whatever resources were at hand (like the xeroxed London panoramas from colour supplements or taping a friend’s souped up Mini blasting round Chorlton). It was obvious that the exceedingly small team thoroughly enjoyed working on DM and that they did what made them laugh. Considering that there was no money to paper over any “dull” bits with deep backgrounds, FX or animation trickery (cf. any Japanese product bar “Akira”), this is what, in the final analysis, makes it all work. And why not (Sorry Barry!).

The storyboards were amazing! Every box and every caption was funny. There was a spontaneous quality about the jokes that made them fall off the page. Like the Pirate King whose singing mates are driving him nuts; “Last time I picks up a crew in Penzance”, or the idiot narrator who sounds like a moonlighting cricket commentator; “Will Danger Mouse and Penfold come round in time to save the world, or will you get lucky!”. Only a fool would consider this a “children’s program”.

Then why am I surrounded by fools? DM certainly doesn’t take itself seriously, and the plots are more versatile than ‘Road Runner’! Watch carefully and you will discover you are laughing at some very subtle satire. Who is the target? Naturally, the English and their public schools, respect for authority, honour and fair play, viewed as if by the child in each of us. The first appearance of Count Duckula, the Hammer vampire duck with a speech impediment, is nothing less than Daffy Duck in a green cape. But where Daffy would do just about anything to get his hands on a million bucks, Count Duckula wants to be on television! Naturally, he is upstaged by Yorick’s skull while reciting Hamlet’s soliloquy…

I was going to expound my theory that DM owes less to Disney than to Monty Python, but with lines like “try Superman – Wednesday is his day off”, a mickey take (sorry!) that only the English would ever find funny, who cares?

So what does our Monocular Mouse, the World’s Greatest Secret Agent, resident of a five bed semi-detached pillar-box in Mayfair actually DO? Well, when he’s not fighting the rotter Baron Silas von Greenback and his evil scheme to reduce the world’s population of elephants into sugarcubes, receiving mumbled orders on the videophone from Agent 57 (Colonel K), swapping puns with a prune juggling vampire parrot or saying “Penfold, shush”, he is probably making mushroom pizza.

If this sounds like a lot of fun, well it is! And if you haven’t seen it, shame on you! Have I made a fool of myself writing this? [No more than normal – The Ed.] Well, if the editor can write serious articles on Sybil Danning… If you’ve got a brown Florence Nightingale sometime, you might like to know that there are three Danger Mouse videos! You’re just going to have to hang around the Childrens’ Section (ho ho). Plug. Plug (plug) plug, plug…

Time for some more dialogue…

DM : I think this clock is some sort of time machine!
P : Er, DM, a clock IS a time machine.
DM : Not that sort of time machine, the sort that takes you THROUGH time.
P : Oh, like that Doctor.
DM : Who?
P : Can’t remember.

I had this nice little opening paragraph all ready for Switzerland, saying how dull a place it was and how it wasn’t surprising it was the only country in Europe with a ‘Z’ in its name (a title now shared with Bosnia and Herzegovina). Unfortunately, it was rather blown out the window when I wander into the biggest department store in Zurich and find, nestling next to each other on the shelf, copies of ‘The Exorcist’ and ‘Ilsa, Harem-Keeper of the Oil Sheiks’, two films not (legally) available in the liberated, interesting United Kingdom.

Switzerland clearly has it’s benefits. Nestling as it does between France, Italy and Germany, it seems to take some of the elements of each country and combine them into something uniquely Alpine. Perhaps it’s the money that does it, though this does lead to problems as well as benefits. For example, the first day in Zurich was hot and sunny, so I passed most of it down in a park by the river, soaking up some of that sunshine vitamin. Later, back in Britain, they had an item on News at Ten about the Swiss drug problem – apparently, the Swiss have the highest incidence of AIDS per capita in Europe, thanks to a large number of rich young people who aren’t happy with the opportunity to see an uncut copy of Zombie Flesh Eaters. “And this is what the locals call Needle Park, frequented by all the local heroin addicts”, ran the report – yep, you guessed it, the same park I’d spent a lovely peaceful afternoon in. It says something for the politeness seemingly inherent in the Swiss race that even their junkies are undetectable.

The next day, I was faced with a difficult choice. I could spend my cash on a copy of ‘Ilsa, Harem-Keeper…’ or be ultra-touristy and buy a ticket up the highest railway in Europe. Both appealed, but in the end, the weather decided for me; the clouds descended, and I don’t shell out 40 quid to see the inside of a ping-pong ball so Ilsa, and a few interesting slabs of techno-pop vinyl, won the day.

The weather continued to worsen and I cut my losses, heading for the South of France on the night train from Geneva. I spent most of my final day sitting on trains going round in circles in a desperate attempt to save money, though I did make a detour out to Lichtenstein, a country so small you can miss it on the train if you go to the toilet. I had done exactly this previously, making it the only country in the world I have ever urinated on from one end to the other. Contents: one pretty schloss, one giant Post Office – apparently stamps for collectors are the second biggest industry (philately will get you everywhere, it seems).

An hour and a half in Geneva killed the rest of my time nicely, most of it spent in another video shop, using my French dictionary to translate the titles (this being the Gallic part of Switzerland). It did have ‘chainsaw’ (‘tronconeuse’ if you’re wondering), but balked at ‘mort vivant’ for ‘living dead’.

On, and into France proper. To be perfectly honest, not a great deal of note happened over the next three days. I lay in the sunshine, got HIDEOUSLY sun-burned (I still bear the scars even now, 5 months later) and drank a lot of Orangina. Oh, and I braved the French cinema to see a Nastassja-film I’d discovered, quite by chance, was on locally.

This wasn’t my first experience of ‘les flicks’ (as I don’t think the French call them, except possibly in “‘Allo, ‘Allo”) – I’d first seen “Evil Dead 2” in a Parisian cinema a few years ago. That was OK; at least it was subtitled, the sound- track being in English, so I knew what was going on – this one was dubbed into FRENCH, with the voices originally having been Italian.

It cost me 35F, or about 3.50, which is comparable with a provincial cinema over here. Half the fun was seeing a completely different set of adverts to the ones we get (great irrelevant mysteries of our time: in the Bacardi cinema ad, why are the characters clearly shown building a nicely Satanist pentangle?). The one I remember most clearly was for an ice-cream called ‘Extreme’ (I think it was) – over a backing track of the Siouxsie and the Banshees track “Rawhead & Bloodybone”, it had enough sexual innuendo to make even the Flake lady blush in shame.

I just about managed to understand the film, though I imagine I lost a lot of the subtle nuances. I reviewed it in TC3, so I won’t bother to repeat that here, suffice to say it had everything I want from a Nastassja Kinski movie i.e. lots of her.

Time to head home; I wanted to try and see another football match while I was down there, to complement the German one, but it just didn’t work – the games were played on Saturday evening, which made it impossible for me to get back to Nice in time to catch a train. I also failed to achieve another ambition – at some point, I want to go on the TGV since 160 mph through the French countryside will make a nice change from a tenth of that speed up to London Bridge. Through Customs,avoiding questions about Ilsa films and Cicciolina comics, to home. How did this trip compare to last year? Not quite as good, I fear. Berlin was certainly worth a visit but it’s getting to the stage where I’ve done most of the rest of Western Europe. Maybe I’ll still be under 26 when they open up the East to holders of the Inter-Rail pass – THAT would be a trip worth making…

It is one of those interesting, but probably meaningless, coincidences that the two Austrian-born actors to have achieved international renown are both best known for movies where they kick ass first, and ask questions later. Though thinking about it, given that perhaps the best known Austrian in history was also known for something similar, albeit in a far worse scale, perhaps there is something about the Austrian nation that breeds ‘hard cases’.

Mr Hitler is not the subject of this article, however, and neither is former Mr. Universe Arnold Schwarzenegger. The person we are interested in here has carved a niche for herself in the ‘women-with-weapons’ genre, and time and again has shown herself capable of single-handedly taking an otherwise tedious & dull movie and licking it into shape. Who can it be, except for Sybille Johanna Danninger?

Born in Wels, Austria in 1950, her father was an American GI and she was educated in New Jersey at a Catholic school before returning to Austria to work as a dental assistant in Salzburg [ I know this sounds implausible, but it’s the only way to fit together the different life-stories discovered in my research! ]. It was here that her movie career began with a series of soft porn flicks, which seem to be totally unavailable – she’s better at suppressing her early embarrassing moments than Nastassja is! ‘The Three Musketeers’ in 1973 marked the start of her rise from obscurity – since then she’s been perpetually busy, at least 30 films have included her 5 foot 7 inch tall, 125 pound figure ( and either a 36- or 40-inch bust, depending on which magazine you read! ), though these include a lot of cameo roles such as ‘The Tomb’ ( cf TC4 ).

Sybil is at her best when playing her cool, silent types up against scenery chewing of the highest order. Thus, in “L.A. Bounty” (which she came up with the story for and co-produced, as well as doing a lot of her own stunts), she says exactly 30 words in the whole film, balancing Wings Hauser’s voluble psychopathic drugs dealer nicely. Similarly, “Reform School Girls” has everyone carving up the ham bar Sybil. On the other hand, where she is forced into ‘out of character’ roles, she remains competent, but totally unremarkable. Witness “The Prince and the Pauper” – hidden behind a frumpy costume as the cowering wife of a thief wasn’t our Sybil at all.

As an example of her ability to carry a movie on her own, you need look no further than “The Howling II”, one of the worst sequels it has been my misfortune to see (though III-V are apparently worse – I haven’t bothered with them!). With only Christopher Lee giving any assistance, she strolls through the appalling plot and hideous acting with a dignity and style that almost made the whole thing worth while. In “Phantom Empire” (top), she does much the same job, and also stakes her claim as a contender for Cleavage of the Century – the word “statuesque” comes easily to mind!

FILMOGRAPHY

The sheer quantity of work she’s been in is impressive – 60 films is a rough total though with her early work, things get hazy since she doesn’t talk about them, and titles vary. The list below may contain some that are also appear under a different name, though I’ve weeded these out as far as possible – I assume “The Long, Swift Sword of Siegfried” and “The Erotic Adventures of Siegfried” are the same movie!

• 1971 – Come, My Dear Little Bird
  The Long, Swift Sword of Siegfried
  – AKA The Erotic Adventures of Siegfried
  Freedom For Love
  Blood
  Naughty Nymphs
  Only In Denmark

• 1972 – Bluebeard
  Run, Run, Joe
  The Immigrants
  Fire of Love
  The Secret Carrier
  The Stewardess Report
  The Housewife Report
  The Vacation Report
  Pharmacist’s Daughters
  – AKA Swedish Love Games
  – AKA Passion Pill Swingers
  Bed Career
  The Loves of a French Pussycat
  The Eye of the Labyrinth
  The Love of the Great Bear
  Sam’s Song
  Loreli
• 1973 – What is Hard is Good
  Porcelain Wedding
  Operation Lady Marlene
  The Three Musketeers
  The Four Musketeers
  The Odessa File (European version only)
• 1974 – The Twist
• 1975 – God’s Gun
  Albino
  – AKA Whispering Death
  – AKA Night of the Askari
  Death In The Sun
• 1976 – Operation Thunderbolt
  – AKA Entebbe: Operation Thunderbolt
• 1977 – The Prince and the Pauper
  – AKA Crossed Swords
• 1978 – Meteor
  Airport ’79 – The Concorde
  – AKA Airport ’80 [!!]

• 1979 – Cuba Crossing
  – AKA Kill Castro!
  – AKA The Mercenaries
  Cat in the Cage
  The Swap
  Separate Ways
  Nightkill
  The Man With Bogart’s Face
  Battle Beyond The Stars
• 1980 – Day of the Cobra
  The Salamander
  How to Beat the High Cost of Living
• 1981 – Julie, Darling
• 1982 – The Seven Magnificent Gladiators
  SAS: San Salvador
  Hercules
  Chained Heat
• 1983 – Jungle Warriors
  Private Passions
  – AKA Claire
  They’re Playing With Fire
  The Immoral Minority Picture Show
  Malibu Express
• 1984 – Young Lady Chatterly II
  Panther Squad
  The Howling II
  – AKA Your Sister is a Werewolf
  The Tomb
• 1985 – Warrior Queen
  Black Diamond
  The Wild Life
• 1986 – Reform School Girls
  Amazon Women of the Moon
  Phantom Empire
• 1987 – Pompeii
• 1988 – The Talking Walls
• 1989 – L.A. Bounty

One of the benefits of doing TC on a word-processor is I can keep tweaking things right up until press-time; the rewrite of this editorial was necessary to remove a couple of remarks which had become inaccurate and a little libellous. Also, it lets me tell you Peter Greenaway’s next film is supposed to star NK, but given the large number of films she’s supposed to be in, don’t count on it.

This is TC5, professionally printed once more and with a slight hike in the subscription rate. Oddly, the bigger print run this time made the rise inevitable – while I can take a loss on 50 copies, taking the same loss on 200 is TOO much. Distribution has taken some steps forward since last time. This should be available in Forbidden Planet, London and possibly a few other places as well. It should also be available by mail order from a German company, Artware and Daystar Books too.

What looked like a bit of a struggle getting this issue together petered out to the extent that I’ve effectively been twiddling my thumbs for the past fortnight, it all being ready bar the front cover. I took January off, thinking that I could write the texts in February, forgetting that February only has 28 days, and I’d something arranged for most of them, from the 1st (‘A Clockwork Orange 2004’) to the 28th (the Cramps in concert, after which I ended up in King’s College Hospital getting stitches in my lip!). Fortunately, since the printing of TC now takes a week rather than a month I had enough breathing space to cope.

We’ve started playing with the layout a bit more – this issue is a compromise between those who wanted to get away from the telephone directory look and those who saw it as the first step on the slippery slope towards glossy Freddy Krueger photos. I’m also interested to know whether the type-faces on the Splatterfest piece and the letters page gave you eye-strain – if they didn’t, one or other will be adopted for future issues, which might mean a price REDUCTION, since we can put more information on a page and thus will need to pay for fewer pages, though it’ll probably mean I just waffle on at greater length.

As ever, some things were squeezed out. The competition results (what the entries lacked in quantity they made up in quality) have been held over and the Trash City awards have as well, though since by TC6 it’ll be July and no-one’ll care about ’89 any more, the latter may be dropped. At least we don’t need an annoying supplement.

A few thanks: David Bryan, Damien Drake, Alun Fairburn, David Glance, Des Lewis, John London of Copyprint, Gerard Smith, Frank Stauffer and Steve Welburn.

“For the good of the losers, the boozers, the ugly, the crazy, the drunks & the punks, the perverts, the lazy…”

[I sat and stared at the layout of this for far longer than I care to admin, trying to figure out how to beat it into a WordPress compatible shape. In the end, I took the coward’s way out, and you’re getting an image]