The 8 Manliest Foreign Movie Posters Ever
Modern American movie posters suck: They're boring, over-edited, passionless displays that tell you more about the special effects budget of a film than the heart of it. Somewhere along the line, art took backseat to top-billing and cheap photoshops, and now all we get is an endless parade of floating heads hovering above explosions and that is somehow nowhere near as awesome as it sounds. But that doesn't mean the art is dead. It's just been outsourced, like everything else, to South Asia: Places like India and Pakistan took the raped and abandoned husk of our artistic integrity, jacked it up on mescaline, lit it on fire, and jumped it over a schoolbus. And when they were done, this is what they gave us back:
Gunmaster G-9The name of this movie is Gunmaster (which, incidentally, is also my new profession according to the six thousand business cards I just ordered). And in addition to an entire city exploding in the background (presumably by virtue of guns and the mastery thereof,) Gunmaster also promises us the re-animated corpse of '80s era Vince McMahon in a starring role -- a feat of booking that would require not just murder, but also necromancy and time travel. So you keep blowing your budget on CGI, Hollywood, but until you're willing to invest all that special effects money exclusively into the Black Arts and Flux Capacitors, you will always lose to Gunmaster.
Anmol MotiAnmol Moti asks one of the greatest philosophical questions of our time: When you strip us of all our modern conveniences, our petty differences, our fleeting ideologies, and you really break our lives down into their core elements, aren't we all the same? Aren't we all just... trapped by the limbs of a giant retarded octopus? We wrestle with our brothers, forgetting that we are all trapped by the limbs of a giant retarded octopus. We smile wryly up at our stabbing knives through our impossibly thin moustaches -- as though the blade has just told a particularly distasteful joke -- and all the while we are trapped by the limbs of a giant retarded octopus. We indulge in complex perversions, like blindfolding our titties (because there is no way that was ever a bikini top to start with) just to try and forget for one brief moment that we are still, every one of us, trapped by the limbs of a giant retarded octopus...called
The Burning TrainThe title of this movie is The Burning Train, and its poster is, sure enough, a burning train. This is a movie doesn't make a lot of promises, but it intends to deliver on the ones it makes: You're about to spend two hours watching a train hauling ass and being on fire and buddy, if you wanted something else, maybe you shouldn't have bought a ticket for
Sultan Rahi's Entire CareerAnd now we meet the Zen master of posters that punch your brain in the face: Mr. Sultan Rahi. I have never seen any of Mr. Rahi's movies, but you know what? I don't think that matters. There doesn't have to be a story behind that image for it to change me forever. I need nothing more than this picture to understand absolutely everything about the man. Sultan Rahi, as far as I am concerned, could star in posters alone, and I would still be a fan. Find me something -
Jaani DushmanIt takes a true connoisseur of insanity to appreciate Jaani Dushman. Sure, it's got the blatantly strange stuff: There's a wolfman with Down's Syndrome, there's an obviously stock black and white photo recklessly spliced into an image that is otherwise entirely in color, and if you'll direct your attention to the right border, you'll even spot one half of an Arabic Ron Jeremy. But if that's
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