Spanish title: Aventuras del Capitan Kid
Stars: Richard Crane, David Bruce, John Crawford, George Wallace
Directed by: Derwin Abbe, Charles S. Gould
Distributor: Columbia Pictures

"The king of the pirates! 15 sensational episodes!"

The age of the serials was well and truly over by the time this pedestrian matinee ‘thriller’ series hit the screens, and it has all the hallmarks of a thrown-together-at-the-last-minute outing.

A chubby Richard Crane sleepwalks through the production as a (strangely non-villainous) Captain Kidd, as he stumbles from one lame cliffhanger to the next, battling supposed bad guys and wooing supposed women.

The lobby card promoting the series upon it’s Spanish release is reflective of the lack of care demonstrated by the filmmakers, as it’s basically illustrated art mixed in with some cut’n'paste photo imagery, surrounding the requisite still shot.

Certainly it’s far from ugly, but at the same time, it sure as heck ain’t Spy Smasher or Flash Gordon.

Interesting sidenote: This series was co-written by George H. Plympton and Arthur Hoerl, who between them had a part in writing just about half the films that came out of Hollywood from 1912 on up. In 1929 alone, Plympton had a part in the writing of 13 different films and series, and a year before that, the number was an astonishing 35. In 1930, he was only involved in one film, so we’re guessing he took a well deserved holiday that year.

That said, Plympton wasn’t away from the typewriter for long, and was still cranking out scripts as late as 1966!

Arthur Hoerl wasn’t far behind, in terms of productivity, but while he took part in 152 films and series over his career, Plympton amassed a whopping 288 productions… can you imagine the royalty checks?

Spanish title: Los Tambores de la Muerte (The Drums of Death)
Stars: Clay Moore, Phyllis Coates, Johnny Spencer, Roy Glenn
Directed by: Fred C. Bannon
Distributed by: Distribuidora Sotomayor, for Republic Pictures

"Jungle thrills and voodoo madness in the heart of the dark continent – a Republic super-series!"

We don’t see a whole lot of Distribuidora Sotomayor lobby cards around, but more’s the pity, as this is one high quality piece of promo art. Nice thick card stock, dramatic comic book-style art, stark colors (even if they only budgeted for one in this case)… you can just imagine kids lining up for hours to get their ‘jungle thrills’.

This series was directed by Fred C. Bannon, who enjoyed a lengthy career as a maker of pulp film. With titles such as Zombies of the Stratosphere, Radar Men from the Moon, Flying Disc Man from Mars, and Federal Agents vs Underworld Inc, you just know the guy was hired for his willingness to work on the cheap, rather than what skills he brought to the table.

The story in this series, which had a working title of Robin Hood of Darkest Africa, focuses on a group of nice upstanding people who go to an African territory looking to win a mining concession so they can pull uranium out of the ground. Only, they’re constantly foiled in their attempts by a trading post operator who just won’t leave well enough alone and seeks the uranium for an unnamed evil government. Cliffhangers ensue. 

The entire 12-part series was shot over three weeks for a budget of around $160,000, as was the way with Republic serials, and though the Saturday morning matinee fare usually featured copious amounts of stock footage and woeful cliffhangers, this one actually shows a little commitment to quality… at least compared to others of its ilk.

The card art is fantastic – it’s done in a comic book style with nothing more than black and white with a splash of red to fill out the design. As a result, it’s a real eye-catcher… though the ‘native’ in the still image seems to resemble a corn-fed Mississippi boy more than a Masai warrior.

For those interested in Distribuidora Sotomayor, their address is listed as Reforma 503, S.A. – that’s all I’ve got.