Series Report Card: Godzilla (2019)

35. Godzilla: King of Monsters

Given his sixty year legacy in cinema, Legendary Pictures and Warner Brothers were obviously eager to launch a franchise with 2014's “Godzilla.” After developing a new “King Kong” film, Legendary even decided to form their own cinematic universe: The simply named Monster-Verse.  Yet a direct sequel to their “Godzilla” was slow-going. Gareth Edwards, initially set to return, jumped ship to Disney to make a “Star Wars” movie. After finding a more-than-antiquate replacement in the form of “Krampus'” Michael Dougherty, the release date to the perfectly entitled “Godzilla: King of the Monsters” kept being pushed back. After a five year wait – during which Toho released one live action and three animated Godzilla flicks – the King has finally returned to American theater screens.

In the years since Godzilla and the MUTOs rampaged through San Francisco, monster-tracking government agency Monarch has discovered dozens of massive beasts – dubbed Titans – hibernating around the globe. Dr. Emma Russell has developed a device nicknamed the ORCA which can pacify or even communicate with them. During the first test on a newly hatched Mothra, Russell, her teenage daughter Melinda, and the ORCA are taken by eco-terrorists. They intend to free all the Titans, letting the monsters reclaim the Earth. They first release Monster Zero, the most dangerous of the newly discovered creatures. Monarch, working with Emma's estranged husband Dr. Mark Russell, track Emma, the ORCA, and Godzilla, the only Titan strong enough to stand against the fearsome King Ghidorah.

I loved 2014's “Godzilla” but it was clearly a divisive film. Following its release, fans complained that the movie didn't have nearly enough giant monster action. That the film's tendency to cut away from the action was irritating, not interesting. Dougherty's “King of the Monsters” can only be seen as a direct response to Legendary's previous G-flick. The film has four marquee monsters, assembling Toho's most well-known and beloved kaiju. Aside from those creatures, the movie has even more original monsters in it. Such as the mammoth-liked Behemoth, the spider crab inspired Scylla, and a dozen other beasts named for other mythological beings. Huge chunks of the film's runtime is devoted to monster action. This is a sequel clearly designed to appease fans who were underwhelmed last time.

While such course correction could've been overzealous, “King of the Monsters” is so clearly made by fans. The film is peppered with homages to Godzilla's greater cinematic legacy. The score features segments of the beloved “Godzilla” and “Mothra” themes, a fantastic inclusion as Akira Ifukube's music was sorely missed from the 2014 film. The film is as faithful to the monster's established origins as possible, putting clever spins on many of them. Mothra's priestesses, Ghidorah's cosmic origins, and Rodan being born of volcanic fire are maintained but in delightfully unexpected ways. Even more fantastically shocking are homages to the original film's ending, “Godzilla vs. Megalon” and “Godzilla vs. Destoroyah.” (And even unexpected shout-outs to other films, like “The Giant Claw” or “The Thing.”) Edwards and Dougherty's styles are united by a key ingredient. Both approach the famous kaiju with as much respect as possible.

You can see this in how the movie treats it titanic characters. Godzilla's characterization is different from what we see in the Japanese film. Instead of being the Earth-searing embodiment of nuclear annihilation or a chaotic neutral force of nature, the American Godzilla is mostly a good guy. He's a cinematic superhero, in keeping with the big budget Marvel and DC films that dominate the modern box office. Yet there are hints that this Godzilla's tolerance of humanity has its limits. He still has no regard for the little things under his feet. More than once, Godzilla sends an intimidating signal to human scientists or a grouchy sneer towards a ship. It's different but as valid an interpretation of Toho's beast as any other that has existed over the years. Most importantly, even if he is something of a guardian to humanity, Godzilla is still a mythic figure.

That the creatures are allowed to maintain so much of their personality is vital. Let us examine King Ghidorah. The tri-headed dragon is surprisingly expressive. His heads frequently feud among themselves, bickering for control. (This is something I've been wanting to see in all the years I've spent watching “Godzilla” movies.) If Godzilla is the movie's hyper-destructive superhero, Ghidorah is its truly diabolical supervillain. His characterization is nothing less than Satanic, such as when he poses darkly against a cross. His necks slithers across the ground like the serpent of Eden and he is locked in ice like Dante's Satan. In a touch I truly loved, Ghidorah is connected with the global archetype of the multi-headed serpent. He brings massive storms, like the dragons of old. Ghidorah is a grand villain, an almost sadistic glee shining through his reptilian eyes as he rains devastation down on the cities of man.

“King of the Monsters” has its hands full, introducing three iconic creatures in one motion picture. As a short cut, it applies the same grand but simplified characterization to its other monsters. The airborne creatures maybe get the shortest sticks. Mothra has a fantastic introduction, the giant larva crawling from her cocoon and filling the humans with both awe and terror. After metamorphosing into an enormous moth, Mothra continues to be a striking visual. The enormous insect's beauty and majesty is played up. She rains healing pollen from her wings and glows with brilliant color. Disappointingly, the film reduces Mothra's personality to basically being Godzilla's girlfriend, which definitely undersells how complicated the two kaiju's relationship is in the Toho films.

In the Japanese films, Rodan is the monster with the least well defined personality. Mothra was a benevolent protector of nature, Godzilla is an unpredictable force of nature, Ghidorah was a genocidal maniac from outer space. And Rodan was pretty much just a big pterosaur. So “King of the Monsters” makes the decision to turn Rodan into an all-purpose hench-monster. After receiving a quick beat down from Ghidroah, Rodan becomes subservient to the interstellar dragon. From that point on, he functions as the villain's second-in-command, even fighting with Mothra while Ghidorah is occupied with Godzilla. He serves his purpose in the story and it must be said that Rodan is still an incredibly expressive creature. However, as with Mothra, I do wish he was given a slightly more complex motivation.

While I have my qualms about the way the monsters are handled, I have no complaints from a design perspective. Godzilla was given a fantastic rework in 2014, lent a bear-like stature and crocodilian features to ground him in reality while still maintaining everything we visually associate with Godzilla. The same benefit is extended to the new introductions here. Rodan heavily resembles his Heisei-era “Fire Rodan” form, his stone-like tail feathers always trailing volcanic ash. Mothra looks more like a giant insect, combining elements from moths, wasps, and various flies. Ghidorah is given an incredible weight and heft. All the designs strike a perfect balance between gritty realism and the trademarks of the creatures as we know them.

That same realism is what directed most of Gareth Edwards' previous reboot of “Godzilla.” That film strove to establish the truly awe-inspiring scale of these mega-sized beasts, placing them in a real world setting. Michael Dougherty's approach is very different. He seems to draw direct inspiration from the “Godzilla” films of the Heisei period. The plot is directly concerned with human organizations tracking or seeking to exploit the giant monsters. This bends the film into a more outrageous direction, with contrived plot devices like the ORCA. That approach is also reflected in the film's dialogue, which frequently veers towards the campy. Some of these lines are kind of funny but others, like a fortune cookie reference, are real groaners.

Visually, Dougherty's approach is very different too. Early on, I was a little worried. The sequence devoted to the eco-terrorists gunning down Dr. Russell's associates or some of the military scrambles are full of the shaky-cam action theatrics that I just can't stand. I was getting worried. Luckily, the camera is crystal clear during the monster battles. (Which is a good thing, since most of the movie is composed of them.) The kaiju fights are never anything short of spectacular. Godzilla and Ghidorah's first melee among the arctic ice is enormous in scale, with gravity beams flying and monsters pushed through the air with atomic breath. Rodan's unleashing in Central America is one of my favorite action set pieces in the film. The giant pteradon levels the city with gale force winds, spinning through the air and snatching jets out of the sky. Godzilla and Ghidorah then have a rematch in the water, with a surprisingly frank decapitation.

By the time we reach the last act, the action has reached a truly apocalyptic scale. Ghidorah drops Godzilla out of the sky, using his necks as arms. The film finds constantly inventive ways to keep this titanic struggle fresh. The movie makes it clear that a giant monster invasion would mean the end of civilization as we know it. Entire cities are destroyed. DC is lost among massive flooding, generated by Ghidorah. Boston is completely wiped off the map. As Godzilla and Ghidorah wail on one another, with a scuffle between Mothra and Rodan going on at the same time, the immense power of these beasts is clearly established. Only a last minute writing decision – another of the film's more contrived touches – spares all of humanity.

And if you'll allow me to get a bit nitpicky... An extremely minor problem I have with the film is its loose approach to science. Edwards' film established that this Godzilla exists in a more realistic world than previous films in the series. Though a direct sequel, “Godzilla: King of the Monsters” pretty clearly does not. I'm not even talking about the more fantastical monsters that are introduced. More times than I could count, characters in this film are tossed backwards by massive explosions. Nobody is knocked dead by concussions. Even more egregious is how often characters stand next to enormous fireballs or gigantic explosions of nuclear energy. Convection would burn everyone near-by to toast and all survivors would immediately be riddled with cancer. Of course, this is a ridiculous complaint, as most big blockbusters can be accused of this. But the weird push-and-pull the MonsterVerse has with reality took me out of the movie a few times. 

The most common complaint about Edwards' “Godzilla,” aside from there not being enough monster action, is that the human protagonists was a deeply un-charismatic block of wood. The sequel seeks to correct this by casting a colorful character actor in nearly every part and letting them play to type. In other words, the entire principal cast is populated with Bryan Cranstons. Vera Farmiga is a stern and slightly unhinged matriarch who spouts a lot of exposition. Kyle Chandler is a perpetually fed-up dad full of gruffly observed wisdom. Millie Bobby Brown is an adventurous and strong-headed teenager. Bradley Whitford is a deeply cynical smart-ass who often observes the action. Charles Dance is a villain who pairs his calculating nature with a colorful British accent. Zhang Ziyi is a wise Asian with unique insights. In this line-up, the returning Ken Watanabe and Sally Hawkins stand out a lot less, though both are still excellent. I, for one, think this was an excellent strategy. The human characters in “Godzilla” movies have always been of secondary importance to the monsters so slotting them into easily understood archetypes is a great short-cut.

You'll notice most of my complaints with “Godzilla: King of the Monsters” haven't amounted to much more than bitchy fanboy nitpicking. And that's because I couldn't be more in the bag for this motion picture. However, I do think there is a serious flaw. “Godzilla” movies, even the silliest ones, are always about more than they appear. The original was about the atom bomb. “Shin Gojira” was about the Japanese government's mishandling of the 2011 Tohoku disaster. Edwards' “Godzilla” was awash in all sorts of millennial anxieties. So what is “King of the Monsters” about? It's not very clear. Nuclear energy is nothing but a plot device in this film, the real world ramifications stripped away. This becomes especially queasy during a sequence devoted to re-charging Godzilla via nuclear bomb.

The best I can tell is that Dougherty is making a movie about coming to peace with our place in nature. Mark and Russell lost a son during Godzilla's previous fight in San Francisco, splintering their relationship. Mark begins the film hating Godzilla but eventually helps save him. Likewise, the massively destructive Titans are as capable of saving the Earth as they are destroying it. Perhaps Dougherty is spreading a message about mankind living in balance with the natural world? But it's not very clearly expressed. This is a big, comic book-style, effects-packed blockbuster and I'm fine with that but I wish it didn't sacrifice some of the series' trademark substance.

Ultimately, I can't complain too much. I enjoyed this motion picture immensely. You can tell that Michael Dougherty is a true monster-loving Godzilla fan and that affection is evident all throughout “King of the Monsters.” Even though the sequel seeks to address the complaints of 2014's film, it has also received a wildly divisive reaction. The box office has been underwhelming too, probably due to the five year wait between films, that previous movie's mixed reception, or a packed summer movie environment. This has cast the future of the MonsterVerse into doubt. (Though not that much into doubt, as the heavily-foreshadowed “Godzilla vs. Kong” has already completed principal photography.) Whether the King of the Monster's latest adventure is commercially successful is still being decided but I absolutely had a blast watching it. [Grade: A-]

Series Report Card: Godzilla (2018) Part Two

34. Godzilla: The Planet Eater
Gojira: hoshi wo kû mono

There's a specific reason why Toho pursued making a series of animated “Godzilla” movies. Their contract with Legendary Pictures, the producers of the American Godzilla movies, specifically stipulates that Toho can not release a live-action film in the same year as Legendary puts one of their “Godzilla” movies out. Toho clearly seized upon that “live action” loophole, realizing they could keep the brand alive while they wait for Hollywood to crank out their next mega-budget installment. But maybe it wasn't a great idea to flood the market with three animated features released within basically a year? Nevertheless, the conclusion to Polygon's cell-shaded “Godzilla” trilogy rolled out into Japanese theaters last November, coming to America Netflix back in January. Now, nearly five months later, I'm finally getting around to watching it.

If you don't recall how “City on the Edge of Battle” ended – I certainly didn't – “The Planet Eater” provides little remorse. It leaps right back in, with Godzilla temporarily demobilized by nanites. The remaining human, Bilusaludo, and Exif forces have gathered in the near-by tunnels with the native Houtuan population. Exif high priest, Metphies, uses this opportunity to spread his species' religion to the colony. Feeling guilty about Yoko being turn to metal by the nanites, leader Haruo doesn't know what to do. Too late, he realizes Metphies and the other Exif are summoning their god of destruction to the planet, Ghidorah, in the hopes it'll kill Godzilla and all other life on Earth.

Since this is the last of Polygon's animated “Godzilla” movies, let me, one more time, bitch about how ugly these films are. As always, the animation is shockingly unexpressive. Characters stand around in dark rooms, talking to each other. The backgrounds are flat and underlit. The action scenes are not very impressive. There's something about the cell-shaded CGI that causes the characters' movements to look weirdly unnatural. Once again, the idea of an animated “Godzilla” movie – a movie that could do anything, look like anything – instead feels utterly lifeless and visually unappealing. So much wasted potential.

Much like the first two parts of Polygon's “Godzilla” trilogy, “The Planet Eater” is absolutely obsessed with its own convoluted lore. The Exif religion played a role in parts one and two, way too large of the role, but the entire first third of this film is devoted to the topic. In this moment of panic, with so many of their friends gone and Godzilla right over their heads, Metphies converts everyone to his weird rituals. This leads to endless conversations about miracles, the power of God, the existence of an all-mighty, and whether or not he/it will intervene. Because what do we expect from a Godzilla movie other than theological debates, based in made-up alien religions? It's absolutely exhausting.

These are not the only kind of long-winded conversations “The Planet Eater” inflicts on the audience. Nearly the entire first half of the movie is devoted to people discussing the various philosophical ramifications of the things they've seen and experienced. Quickly, the conversation turns towards what exactly defines a monster. If mankind made Godzilla, does that make them equally monstrous? Listen, usually I'm all up for talking about what does and does not make something a monster. Yet “The Planet Eater” is so relentlessly droll, a caper on a trilogy of relentlessly droll films, that these moments come off as infuriating, instead of interesting.

Eventually, “Godzilla: The Planet Eater” goes into full-on “Evangelion” mode. Haruo is rendered an especially inactive protagonist for most of the movie, set into a hypnotic trance while Metphies attempts to bring him over to his side of thinking. What results is yet more dialogue-driven scenes, discussing Godzilla's origin, mankind's role in it, and how that reflects on everyone involved. There's lots of scenes of Harou floating through a blue and green light show. In a way that can't help but feel pretentious and kind of tasteless, this extended dream sequence incorporates a scene of the nuclear bomb being dropped on Japan during World War II.

Oh, by the way, Metphies is a bad guy now. The Exifs are revealed to have been playing the long con with humanity, befriending them so they could eventually lead Ghidorah, who they revere as a god, to another world to destroy. By this point, I am so detached from this trilogy's mythology that I honestly can't tell if this is a twist or not, if this was properly foreshadowed in the previous films. I think it's suppose to be a shocking reveal though, that someone our hero has trusted actually has the extinction of humanity on his mind. If that was the intention, it didn't really work, as Metphies acts like a creepy weirdo planning something devious all throughout this one. 

Among the other plot lines running throughout the animated “Godzilla” movies, the most stereotypical animesque ideas present has been a love triangle floating around our boring hero Haruo. He was obviously interested in fellow pilot Yoko, while Houtuan twins Maina and Miana were clearly enamored of him as well. “The Planet Eater” revolves this collection of entangled romances in as blunt a way as possible. Yoko was infected with nanites at the end of the last movie. This has essentially killed her, turning her into an undying but statue-like human. Midway through the film, Maina then stripes down and present herself to Haruo, with the intention of sleeping with him... Before he realizes it was actually Miana. The film keeps its ambiguous over whether the two go all the way but something about this moment, a child-like teenager making herself sexually available to a guy who just lost his crush, feels really skeevy.

About the only thing I've found consistently compelling about the anime “Godzilla” flicks has been its reinvention of the central kaiju. King Ghidorah receives maybe the most interesting take yet. Here, the famous three-headed space dragon has become an extra-dimensional eldritch abomination that literally feeds on the destruction of sentient life. Ghidorah, referred to as a king by his worshipers, is never shown in full. Instead, multiple heads emerge from black holes, suggesting we're only getting a peak at a massive entity. He literally exists in an another dimension from Godzilla, making him difficult to fight. Transforming Godzilla's most fearsome foe into something like a Lovecraftian god is a clever idea.

However, no matter how clever the ideas in the animated 'Godzilla” films have been, the features have been obnoxiously stingy with them. “The Planet Eater” is maybe guiltier of this than any of the previous films. Godzilla and Ghidorah's fight isn't a fight at all. Instead, Godzilla basically stands still, defenseless against Ghidorah's floating heads. He's immobilized for most of his screen time. When he's finally allowed to strike, Godzilla blows his enemy away with several well placed atomic breath blast. And that's it. An even bigger tease is Mothra, heavily foreshadowed in the last film. The big moth only appears in a dream sequence and only in silhouette. Why would you even introduce a giant Mothra egg and not have Mothra actually do anything? One of many questions with no answers in sight.

Most of “The Planet Eater's” plot is resolved about seventy minutes into the film. Yet another baffling decision is made, as the film continues on-wards into an excruciating fifteen minute epilogue. About three minutes of that runtime is devoted to a musical montage, showing how civilization evolves in the next few years. The film assumes we are very invested in the characters and their world, as the ending of “The Planet Eater” resolves any and every plot point that hasn't already been sealed away. At least Godzilla has a role to play in this unnecessary coda, even if he continues to show no personality at all. There's also a post-credit scene which I perhaps found difficult to understand.

By previous metrics, even the worst “Godzilla” movies are redeemed because they have Godzilla in them. For the first time in the thirty years I've been a Godzilla fan, in the sixty-five years the franchise has existed, a “Godzilla” movie has bored me. As reluctant as I am to say this, I think that makes “Godzilla: The Planet Eater” the worst “Godzilla” movie. Let's compare some, hmm? Yes, “Godzilla vs. Space Godzilla” also chokes on its own convoluted mythology and features maybe the King of the Monster's most boringly overpowered enemies. But it's still got lots of monster action in it. “Godzilla Raids Again” is a listless re-trend of the original but it also gave the world our first kaiju fight. “Godzilla vs. Gigan” is kind of lame but Gigan is a bitchin' monster and that movie has giant cockroach people in it. Even Tristar's notoriously loathed American remake, for all its many faults, is never as aggressively boring as “The Planet Eater.”

What gulls me the most about Polygon's “Godzilla” trilogy is that it didn't have to be this way. This could've been three whole movies indulging in Godzilla tail-surfing, using his atomic breath to fly, fighting as many enemy monsters as possible, or any of the other crazy shit we love from the Showa movies. It was an opportunity to push a series with an already substantial crazy shit level even further over-the-top. Instead, we got a suffocatingly dull series of films that are so serialized they don't feel like films, that feature even less monster action than most of the live action entries in the series. All I can assume is the directors and writers disappeared up their own asses something fierce, using the lucrative “Godzilla” license as an excuse to discuss ideas they were dead set on exploring. It has been said that no movie with Godzilla in it can be wholly bad. “Godzilla: The Planet Eater” somehow proves this rule wrong. [Grade: D]

Series Report Card: Godzilla (2018) Part 1

33. Godzilla: City on the Edge of Battle
Gojira: kessen kidô zôshoku toshi

The response to the first animated Godzilla movie, “Godzilla: Planet of the Monsters,” was largely negative. At least in the American fandom, very few people seemed to actually like the movie. However, Toho's deal with Polygon Pictures and Netflix to produce an animated trilogy was clearly set in stone from the beginning. Less than a year after the Japanese release of “Planet of the Monsters,” and only a few months after it came out in America, the second film was released. “Godzilla: City on the Edge of Battle” was released in Japan on May 18th, with its stateside Netflix release following in July. No, the original Japanese subtitle – which translate to something like “Battle Mobile Proliferation City” – is no less awkward. Though it does sound less like a “Star Trek” spin-off. 

Following the events of “Planet of the Monsters,” Haruo and the rest of his team are stranded on the hellish remains of the Earth. Haruo is rescued by a strange humanoid girl. The others soon encounter her twin. The sisters are part of an entire underground civilization. The telepathic humanoids coat their weapons with nano-tech metal. This metal is derived from the remains of the original MechaGodzilla. In fact, what was once MechaGodzilla has become an entire city. Haruo and his team soon realize they can use this technology, that has evolved over the centuries, to defeat Godzilla.

“City on the Edge of Battle” picks up right where Polygon's first “Godzilla” movie left off. This is a problem because, in the months that have passed since I saw it, I had forgotten almost every about the earlier film. The events of the first anime “Godzilla” movie were not especially compelling and did not linger in the mind. However, the creators of Polygon's trilogy are clearly really invested in this stuff. Their second kaiju flick follows from the first almost as if this was a television series and not a trilogy of films. If “Planet of the Monsters” didn't make much of an impression on you also, I'd recommend re-watching it before diving into “City on the Edge of Battle.”

Right from the beginning, I was disappointed in Polygon's decision to create their “Godzilla” films with that ugly, cel-shaded, CGI animation. In the second film, this still proves super distracting. The limitations of this style is most apparent during several of the action scenes. When the evolved humans or robots are leaping around, things sometimes turn a little choppy. The long dialogue scenes, of which there are many, feel even more stiff and unnatural when delivered by such artificial looking characters. Once again, I wish Toho and its associates had just made these films with traditional animation, instead of this unappealing half-way point between full-blown CGI and the usual anime style.

I will give “City on the Edge of Battle” this much: It is slightly better than “Planet of the Monsters.” The introduction of a technologically primitive but psychically advanced race of humans is interesting. They call themselves the Houtua. They speak telepathically, in a way that crosses all language barriers. Despite that, the twins quickly begin to pick up on English by the end. Though the Houtua appear to be human, their bodies have evolved in the thousands of years since Earth was abandoned. They have a strange powder on them with healing capabilities. Some of the characters suspect they may have insect heritage, which is a somewhat nonsensical idea. The Houtua put a cool, sci-fi twist on the many primitive civilizations that appeared through Toho's original “Godzilla” flicks.

The first movie was overly invested in its own convoluted mythology, confusing and boring the viewer. Some of the contributions to the lore made in part two are more interesting. Aside from the Huotua, we also learn that all of Earth's biology has evolved to imitate Godzilla, its reigning species. However, the mythos and self-involved back story remains crushing. Eventually, a conflict between the regular humans and the Bilusaludo, another alien race accompany them, emerges. The Bilusaluo believe they should fuse with MechaGodzilla's nanotech, an idea that disgusts the humans. Meanwhile, the Exif – the other humanoid aliens – are searching after a minor MacGuffin. This stuff isn't just boring. It's actively annoying.

The mythology being perplexing and the plot being uninteresting would be one thing. An interesting cast of characters might have redeemed these things. Sadly, the heroes and villains have not grown anymore interesting since “Planet of the Monsters.” Main hero Haruo, for one example, remains boring. Haruo is motivated by a singular desire to destroy Godzilla that borders on obsessive. He believes Earth belongs to humanity and it should be reclaimed from Godzilla. I was wondering if “City on the Edge of Battle” was going to make Hauro an Ahab figure, with Godzilla as his white whale. But, no, that might've been interesting. Instead, the film is soon absorbed by the excruciating conflict between the humans and the Bilusaludo.

As I mentioned last time, Polygon's “Godzilla” series features more in the way of traditional anime tropes than expected kaiju movie tropes. Look no further than those Houtua twins. They are named Miana and Maina. One is immediately enamored of Haruo, showing a child-like personality, while the other is grouchier and tougher, more of a proud warrior type. They both have really cute designs too. In other words, they are cute girls with genki and tsundere personalities, exactly the kind of characters otakus will want to buy resin statues of. It's also suggested they might have a crush on Haruo, who is already receiving romantic attention from pilot Yoko. Anime revolving around bland male heroes, surrounded by attractive women who love him is a trope unto itself.

No stereotype is more associated with anime than giant robots. Don't worry, “City on the Edge of Battle” has that covered too. The terrestrial mechs from the first movie get an upgrade in this one. They are retrofitted with wings and renamed “vultures.” Much of the second half of “City on the Edge of Battle” are devoted to these flying robots. There are many long sequences showing them flying through the air, testing their agility and weapons. During the climax, they turn their laser cannons on Godzilla. Still, the vultures get so much screen time that you feel like the directors are far more interested in them than Godzilla.

Yes, the king of all kaiju has about the same amount of screen time here as he did in the first episode. He basically shows up for a few scenes here and there before becoming the focus of the climax. What makes this frustrating is that Polygon's take on Godzilla is truly impressive. The design has really grown on me. Godzilla's rough angles, wolf-like snout, and jagged skin makes him look more like a mountain than ever before. His powers are more destructive than ever, as his atomic breath has evolved into a giant annihilating ray. As cool as he is, Polygon's Godzilla is still largely lacking in the personality he usually has.

Most of “City on the Edge of Forever's” advertising was built around MechaGodzilla. The first movie teased Gojira's mechanical double with a few brief glimpses. The plot is built around the robot dinosaur's existence, as its remains provided the nanobots that become so integral to the plot. They even made a toy of him. You might think all of this is leading up to a big fight between Godzilla and the anime MechaGodzilla. A version of Godzilla's mechanical foe made from nanobots sure would've been interesting to see. But it's all one big tease. The credits roll on “City on the Edge of Battle” without MechaGodzilla himself actually appearing on screen. This is yet another Godzilla movie where the king goes without fighting another giant monster.

The score for “City on the Edge of Battle” is provided by Takayuki Hattori. Aside from scoring “Planet of the Monsters,” Hattori previously composed the music for “Godzilla vs. SpaceGodzilla” and “Godzilla 2000.” Though Akira Ifukube's iconic theme is conspicuously absent, Hattori's music still has that classical Godzilla-feeling. There's definitely a novelty to watching an animated film that still sounds so much like a typical Toho Godzilla film. Hattori, however, tries to add some flair to the soundtrack. There's at least two scenes where a techno song plays, a very odd and distracting decision. Hattori also throws in some wailing rock guitars from time to time. A J-pop song plays over the end credits, which is pretty easy to ignore though.

Much like the first part of the animated Godzilla trilogy, “City on the Edge of Battle” ends on a cliffhanger. Aside from that, the film hints that other monsters may appear in the next installment. (Which came out in Japan earlier this month.) The presence of mystical twins and the Houtua worshiping a giant egg seem to suggest Mothra may appear. Ghidorah, meanwhile, is name-dropped after some melodramatic build-up. Seeing these iconic adversaries brought to life in animation might've been exciting if the first two parts of Polygon's “Godzilla” trilogy weren't so underwhelming. A slight improvement over its predecessor, thanks to some intriguing sci-fi ideas, “Godzilla: City on the Edge of Battle” is hugely self-important, derivative, and even manages to lack the cheap thrills associated with the kaiju genre. [Grade: C]

Series Report Card: Godzilla (2017)

32. Godzilla: Planet of the Monsters
Gojira: Kaijū Wakusei / Godzilla: Monster Planet

I can't tell you how happy it makes me that kaiju movies are officially cool again. After Gareth Edwards' 2014 reboot of “Godzilla” saw box office nearly as big as its titular creature, the floodgate was officially open. King Kong is back. The “Pacific Rim” monsters are back. Mothra, Rodan, and King Ghidorah are coming back. Even the giant animals from “Rampage” are back! To tide over fans until Legendary finally releases their “Godzilla' sequel next year, Toho has started producing movies about their King of the Monsters again.

The last time Godzilla's home studio devoted a new series to their star monsters, the results were not always super inspired. The Millennium Eiga often produced same-old, same-old feelings. For their latest wave of films, the studio has gone in a radically different direction. Hideaki Anno's “Shin Gojira” was as much political satire and art film as it was a giant monster movie. Their next entry into the new “Godzilla” series was something even more expected. “Godzilla: Planet of the Monsters” was the kaiju king's first foray into animation. It got a speedy state-side release too, hitting American Netflix only a few months after its Japanese debut. So... Is it any good?

As the 20th century came to an end, giant monsters emerged all over Earth. The most dangerous of them all, massively powerful and seemingly indestructible, was Godzilla. It was essentially the end of the world. With the assistance of two separate alien race, humanity fled to the stars. Due to faster-than-light travel, twenty years pass on the space ship while thousands of years pass on Earth. With their resources dwindling, humanity decides to return to their home world. They find a planet completely different in its topography, inhabited by strange, dangerous animals. They also find Godzilla, who is still alive and just as unstoppable as ever.

When an animated Godzilla was announced, I thought it was a pretty cool idea. At its best and most unhinged, the “Godzilla” series has always been wildly imaginative. By completely freeing itself from Earth-bound special effects, the franchise could go off in any crazy direction it wanted. “Planet of the Monsters” fulfills this promise, by being the most science-fiction oriented “Godzilla” movie ever made. Most of the film's early scenes take place deep in outer space. One of the main characters is an alien. It sets far in the future. Even a series as consistently wacky as “Godzilla” could never go to places this far out in live action.

Whatever good will “Planet of the Monsters” creates with its sci-fi set-up is quickly squandered. Within its opening minutes, the film bogs the viewer down with exposition. Instead of slowly giving us the information throughout, “Planet of the Monsters” delivers the entire back story in one fifteen minute dump. From there, the movie attempts to create a lore of its own. Much attention is paid to the alien species' religious beliefs. There's much hand-wringing about how space travel affects the elderly. It's all overdone and slightly derivative, quickly alienating even a receptive viewer.

I should say the idea of an animated Godzilla movie is hugely exciting, conceptually. When I first saw the trailer for “Planet of the Monsters,” most of the wind went out of my sails concerning that idea. The thirty-second “Godzilla” movie is not brought to life with the traditional animation still largely favored by Japanese animators. Instead, the film is brought to life with a cell-shaded CGI animation. I do not find this approach aesthetically pleasing. It makes the anime-style character designs look out of place. The environments and creatures frequently look flat. The movement is often choppy. Few of the elements mesh together. The result is off-putting, never allowing the viewer to fully believe in the movie's world.

In the west, anime is still predominately associated with sci-fi and action stories. “Monster Planet” was directed by Kobun Shizuno and Hiroyuki Sheshita. Shizuno has directed a bunch of “Detective Conan” movies but Sheshita specializes in cell-shaded anime like this. Both of them worked on “Knights of Sidonia,” a similar looking series. Both fulfill expectations, as far as sci-fi and action expectations go. The heroes attempt to fight off Godzilla with small, flying vehicles that shoot lasers. This lead to several high-flying, speedy action scenes. The CGI approach probably gave the director's more freedom to create faster paced, wilder action scenes. However, I imagine these scenes would be more appealing in traditional animation.

In fact, the film seems a little too willing to fulfill typical anime expectations. “Godzilla: Monster Planet” leans on many well-known anime troupes. There are giant – though still smaller than Godzilla – robots that are operated by human pilots. There's a heavy focus on mecha designs in general, including spider-like tanks and giant artillery. The expedition to Earth is partially led by a pretty young female character, the kind likely included to appeal to waifu-obessed otakus. The hot-blooded hero makes big, passionate speeches about fairly trivial stuff. It's all stuff I've seen a hundred times before.

Godzilla movies are not well known for having lovable human characters. The on-the-ground subplots are often seen as an unavoidable obstacle to getting to the giant monster stuff. Yet the best kaiju films feature at least mildly interesting heroes. Such as the astronauts and Namikawa in “Monster Zero,” the crack reporter in “Godzilla Versus the Sea Monsters,” or the telepathic Miki from the Heisei series. None of the characters in “Godzilla: Monster Planet” even approach that level. Haruo, the hot-blooded hero, creates constant melodrama in the most boring way. The alien cohort is constantly going on about the space-religion, quickly growing tiresome. The various soldiers and military leaders make no impression. The cast is, simply put, dull.

That's a big problem because there's not nearly enough Godzilla in “Planet of the Monsters.” The film runs under ninety minutes. It takes about a half-an-hour for the humans to get back to Earth. Godzilla makes his first non-flashback appearance a little while after that. That's a lot of time to spend with these boring humans before we get to the good stuff. Luckily, the film's treatment of its star monster is fairly interesting. Godzilla is the biggest he's ever been. He's so large that he resembles a moving mountain more than a living thing. His appearance is craggy, angular, massive, but still recognizable as Godzilla. His movement causes the land to shift around him. His powers are devastating. It's a decent take on the greatest kaiju of all.

“Godzilla: Monster Planet” is not one of the Godzilla movies where he fights another monster. The opening flashback fits in some cameos from other Toho creations. I spotted Orga, Kamacuras, Dagahra, and Dogora, all especially deep cuts. A very odd-looking variation on MechaGodzilla is part of the backstory. The new kaiju addition to the story is a fairly uninspired looking species of dragon-like creatures. Wikizilla tells me they're called Servum and they look more like “Gamera's” arch-enemy, Gyaos, then something befitting the “Godzilla” series. Godzilla, with his newly added build-in force-field and super-effective breath weapon, is clearly the star of the show.

Early into development, it was announced that “Planet of the Monsters” was meant to be the first part of a trilogy. The filmmakers were clearly banking on this. The film essentially ends on a cliffhanger. The climax is a fake-out. The plot is seemingly resolved, in a very big and dramatic way, just for a huge twist to be tossed at us. After that, the movie ends abruptly. We are then given a post-credit scene, which is admittedly sort of neat. Is it enough to get me to come back for two other movies? I'm still not sure.

“Godzilla: Planet of the Monsters” is ultimately a somewhat underwhelming affair. The off-putting animation, weak characters, and halting pacing contribute to a somewhat lackluster presentation. The Japanese box office receipts were only decent but I'm sure the Netflix deal was highly profitable. Polygon Picture and Toho Animations are apparently already working on the sequel, in which that weird MechaGodzilla redesign will get more to do, so I guess that's a done deal. A sequel would have to ditch a lot of things – the lame characters, the weird animation, the dead-weight mythos – to be interesting. It's hard to get my hopes up about that right now. [Grade: C]

Series Report Card: Godzilla (2016)

31. Shin Godzilla
Shin Gojira / Godzilla: Resurgence

It’s a good time to be a kaiju fan. In addition to the big budget sequel to Hollywood’s latest Godzilla movie, new King Kong, Gamera, Pacific Rim, and Power Ranger movies are forthcoming. In to this fray came the announcement the Toho would also be making a new Godzilla film, distinct from the current American series. Better yet, the film would be directed by Hideaki Anno – a nerd savior in certain circles because of his legendary anime series “Neon Genesis Evangelion” – and the special effects mastermind behind the Heisei “Gamera” films. The film opened to big box office and rave reviews in its native country. Perhaps because of this, Toho made the unusual move of a speedy American release. Though initially grafted with the unwieldy subtitle of “Godzilla: Resurgence,” the film instead received a limited stateside release under the partially translated title of “Shin Godzilla.” The original Godzilla is back, on the big screen, for the first time in twelve years. You know I was there.

For the first time in Toho’s history, Godzilla received a straight reboot. “Shin Gojira” continues from none of the previous films. Instead, it asks the question of what would happen if Godzilla appeared for the first time in 2016. An underground tunnel in Tokyo is pierced and flooded. The incident is, at first, blamed on an underwater volcanic explosion. The true culprit, a massive aquatic reptile, surfaces soon afterwards. After the monster wades into Tokyo, the government officials go into overdrive to stop him. The creature – dubbed as both Gojira and Godzilla by a rogue scientist – proves immune to most weapons and massively destructive. A crack team of experts assemble, hoping to find a way to stop the beast before the government drops a massive nuke on the city.

“Shin Godzilla” is the strangest Godzilla movie yet made, even beating previous landmarks for weirdness like “Godzilla vs. the Smog Monster” and “Final Wars.”  Hideaki Anno has essentially made an art house kaiju movie. The film is as much a cultural satire as it is a giant monster movie. The pacing is odd, cutting between long talky sequences and scenes of massive destruction. It approaches Godzilla himself from an almost experimental angle. Unsurprisingly, “Shin Gojira” more resembles Anno’s eccentric anime work then any previous Godzilla flick. Befitting this, Toho has released the film in America as an art house picture, playing in select theaters, in the original language with English subtitles.

But you don’t want to read about that. Let’s talk about Godzilla. Created primarily through CGI, it’s a very different take on the King of the Monsters. Like an anime critter, Godzilla progresses through several forms, evolving repeatedly. His final form is massive, his biggest yet. This gives Godzilla a glacial walking speed, practically moving in slow motion but enormous and unstoppable. Godzilla’s appearance is grotesque, zombie like, his bones and muscles peeking through his reptilian hide. His beady eyes, hook teeth, tiny arms, and serpentine tail create an unnerving appearance. This Godzilla doesn’t have as much personality as previous incarnation. He operates more as a living, breathing natural disaster.

Yet when Anno’s Godzilla gets pissed, you know it. “Shin Gojira” creates some spellbinding sequences of urban destruction. Attention is paid to how much debris the kaiju kicks up. Boats and cars pile up and get tossed around by his movement. Buildings are plowed through, like sand on the beach. Artillery of all sorts harmlessly bounce off him. When big ass bombs do manage to harm him, Godzilla unleashes a staggeringly destructive power. The traditional atomic breath is re-imagined as a hyper concentrated death ray, propelled from a tri-segmented mouth. Buildings are cut through. In a likely homage to the 1954 original, Godzilla reduces Tokyo to flames. (This Godzilla actually does breath fire, for the first time.) Showing off the director’s anime ingenuity, Godzilla is also granted several new powers, shooting his atomic breath from multiple avenues. It’s a staggering display of power, horrifying without sacrificing a certain special effects coolness.

The 2014 American “Godzilla” – which I loved, by the way – was “realistic” in the typical Hollywood fashion. Which mostly meant grafting faux-grit to a still ridiculous story. “Shin Godzilla,” meanwhile, really makes an effort to explain how Godzilla would function in the real world. At first, it’s assumed that such a huge creature would collapse under its own weight, the generally accepted scientific truth. His initial appearances are strange, almost comical, the monster awkwardly waddling through Japan’s cities. The film repeatedly draws attention to Godzilla’s odd appearance, showing off his fleshy gills and massive size. Godzilla’s nature as a living nuclear reactor is made explicit. The creature goes into long inactive periods, resting while it rebuilds its strength. Long scenes are spent explaining Godzilla’ biological function and his molecular breakdown.

This speaks to “Shin Gojira’s” nature as a grounded motion picture. This is most obvious in the story construction. For most of its run time, “Shin Gojira” is a satire about bureaucratic oversight, miscalculation, and in-fighting, the “In the Loop” of kaiju movies. The characters are government officials, figuring out ways to combat the monster, protect the citizens, and reduce destruction. The satire emerges from how bad the departments are at this. The hero immediately believes a giant animal to be responsible for the tunnel collapse. The others dismiss him. After Godzilla reveals himself, scientists assure the prime minister that the monster won’t come ashore. In the middle of his speech, someone informs him that the monster just came ashore. Every step of the military conflict is shown. There’s much debate, over whether Godzilla counts as enough of an aggressor to bring in the JSDF. The order to open fire on the monster passes through a dozen people before being called off at the last minute. Evacuation plans are lingered on.

I’m not Japanese, so I can’t say for certain. However, it seems to me that “Shin Gojira” is about government mishandling of the 2011 Tohoku tsunami. Following Godzilla’s razing of Tokyo, the film’s hero angrily curses to himself, over the loss of life that could’ve been prevented. The incident could’ve better controlled, and more lives saved, if the various government bodies could communicate better. As the story progresses, most of “Shin Gojira’s” humor disappears. The film becomes a race against time, to figure out a way to stop Godzilla before a giant nuclear bomb is dropped on him. And, by relation, all of Tokyo. The heroes are determined to make sure another nuke doesn’t fall on Japanese soil. This keeps Godzilla’s essential post-nuclear subtext intact but re-contextualizes it within a modern setting, even if it’s distinctly different set of anxieties. (Though Anno includes his share of “For the glory of Nippon!” shenanigans, he doesn’t let his country off the hook. Godzilla is still the result of Japanese’s nuclear mismanagement.)

The film’s biggest appeal to mainstream, commercial concerns is its collection of heroes. After Godzilla’s initial attack, the government assembles a crew to handle the beast. They are described as outcasts, nerds, and weirdos, given free rein to stop the beast. In other words, a group of plucky outsiders are the people who end up saving the day. Ingenuity and individual creativity succeed where government bureaucracy fails. That final sequence is one of the film’s most exciting, showing novel ways of using Tokyo’s infrastructure against the monster. The solution they cook up is slightly more realistic then the Oxygen Destroyer, the X2, or giant freezing rays. But only slightly. For as concerned as Anno is with realism, he also understands the comic book demands of the kaiju genre.

“Shin Gojira” was successful in Japan, out-grossing “Final Wars” and Gareth Edwards’ American reboot. Yet what’s popular overseas is clearly different from what’s popular in the U.S. From an American perspective, “Shin Godzilla” is a deeply noncommercial film. This is most clear in how talky the film is. Long scenes are devoted to debates and round table discussions. The minutia of the government’s response to the monster is shown in great detail. As the two hour run time stretches on, the endless dialogue scenes become a bit tiring. When the female protagonist is talking with her dad about how these events will affect her future plans to run for president, the viewer’s interest wanes slightly. In truth, Godzilla is only wrecking shit in four scenes. I get what Anno was going for and I admire the effort. Yet I wish “Shin Gojira” was a little less stingy with the monster action and a little more conservative with the political debates.

The film has a huge cast, with over three hundred credited actors. There are few memorable characters. This almost seems like an intentional move on the movie’s behalf, as nearly every character is introduced with their name and job title appearing on-screen. We’re suppose to see the drawn-out, government processes, not the individual characters. Inside the large cast, only two characters emerge as distinct. Hiroki Hasegawa stars as Yaguchi, who has lengthy title of Deputy Chief Cabinet Secretary. Yaguchi is the only one who immediately grasps what a threat Godzilla is and he leads the attempt to stop him. Hasegawa has a deeply human energy which he contains inside a formal exterior. Satomi Ishihara as Kayoko, the half American envoy from the U.S. president, seems likely to become the film’s otaku favorite. She’s fashionable, trendy, beautiful, and far younger then you’d expect a government official to be. Ishihara is charming and often funny. Moreover, Hasegawa and Ishihara have a nice rapport with one another.

Though he’s best known for animation, Hideki Anno has worked in live action before. His directorial style in “Shin Gojira” is characterized by a documentary like urgency. The scenes of government discussions are terse, focusing on faces and the small rooms. Yet Anno occasionally adds interesting visual flourishes. Such as moment seen from the perspective of a computer monitor. Or the camera drifting away while the heroes discuss nuclear annihilation. For the scenes of kaiju destruction, “Shin Gojira” roots itself to the ground. The kaiju action is usually shown from the perspective of we tiny humans. We see Godzilla’s massive tail swinging over buildings and crowds. Or the tanks and helicopters scurry around him. When the film cuts to a city wide perspective, it’s to give a wider glance at the destruction, a visually shocking maneuver.

It’s currently unknown if Toho plans to create a direct sequel to this film or continue the self-contained story style of the Millennium series. “Shin Godzilla” promises more, by ending on an interesting, somewhat baffling sequel hook. Currently, it looks like the next Godzilla movie will be an animated one, which presents some tantalizing possibilities. I don’t know if I’d like to see another Godzilla movie quite as idiosyncratic as “Shin Gojira,” a fascinating, powerful, but at times frustrating film. To be honest, I also miss the monster versus monster carnage and actors in rubber suits. As a one-off, however, “Shin Gojira” is an extremely interesting experiment, a Godzilla movie truly like no other. [Grade: B+]

Halloween 2015: October 6

Death Kappa (2010)

There’s no hackier joke on the internet then pointing out how wacky Japanese pop culture is. I can’t tell you how many jokes about tentacles, panty vending machines, and wacky game shows I’ve skimmed through. However, it seems there’s a certain portion of Japanese filmmakers that cater to these expectations. Movies like “Tokyo Gore Police,” “RoboGeisha,” and “Zombie Ass: Toilet of the Dead” double down on over-the-top gore, bizarre plots, and outrageous content. In the states, many of these films are distributed by Tokyo Shock. One such flick is “Death Kappa.” It has been described to me as “what a kaiju movie made by Troma would look like.” This is an only slightly misleading statement. “Death Kappa” is definitely wacky and over-the-top. However, it’s more measured and better looking then you’d expect from that logline.

Kanako’s attempts at pop idol stardom have fizzled out. Rejected by Tokyo, she returns to her sea-side home town. Within minutes of arriving, her grandmother is run over by a group of rambunctious teens. With her dying breath, the grandmother asks Kanako to look after the family shrine. She discovers a kappa, a cucumber-loving sea monster from traditional Japanese folklore, lives near-by. Kanako and the friendly kappa are soon abducted by a rogue group of Japanese extremists who want to create a race of half-human, half-kappa super soldiers. Following a nuclear explosions, both monsters grow to massive sizes and wreck havoc in Tokyo.

“Death Kappa” is split fairly evenly into two halves. The second half features lots of goofiness but the first half is even wackier. Kanako and her brothers immediately bond with the kappa. Unlike the rest of the world, the kappa loves Kanako’s saccharine pop music and dances frequently to it. The rebellious teens act very strangely while eating hot dogs on the beach. When the monsters attack them, the camera goes into a frenzy. The film’s villains want to bring back the glory of Imperial Japan. (For no particular reason, one is played by Hideaki Anno, director of “Neon Genesis Evangelion” and Toho’s new Godzilla movie.) Their leader is a teenage girl who talks with a high-pitched moe voice and wears a leather bikini. She carries her grandfather’s corpse around in a wheelchair. When the kappa shows up to rescue her, a karate fight ensues between the monster and the villains. There’s slow-motion machine gun shooting and sudden naginata swinging. It’s nuts and fairly consistently amusing.

After the nuke goes off, the fish-men fuse into one giant beast named Hangyolas. He immediately marches on Tokyo. The military responses with jets, tanks, and giant laser beams which are powerless against the beast. I like the Hangyolas suit, which looks a bit like one of those dragons you see in a Chinatown parade. Yet the long scenes of the monster wrecking the vehicles gets a little tedious. Things pick up considerably when the kappa, transformed into the giant Death Kappa by the explosion, appears. Despite the kappa suit’s inexpressive face, the suits prove surprisingly flexible. The kaiju fight is acrobatic, full of flips, body slams, clotheslines, and flying kicks. One fun moment occurs when Death Kappa pulls Hangyolas’ tail off, like a gecko. A factory's smokestacks are improvised into nun-chucks and a dome is used like a volley ball. The fight takes up the last ten minutes of the film. The battle is silly but still functions as an entertaining kaiju brawl.

At times, it’s hard to tell if “Death Kappa” is just an especially wacky kaiju flick or an out-right parody of the genre. The film is sprinkled with references to kaiju films of years past. As a likely nod to “Godzilla Raids Again,” the monsters’ heads are replaced with hand puppets for one scene. Like Godzilla, Death Kappa’s head-plate glows before he sprays his atomic breath. A possible reference to “Godzilla 2000” occurs when, after his victory, Kappa sets the city ablaze. The tank-mounted death ray is right out of any Showa monster movie. Some moments are more purposely funny then others. The action is periodically interrupted so that a monster expert can dryly explain what’s going on. The jets, tanks, and cityscapes are intentionally fake looking. When Hangyolas attacks the city, some teens stop to get a selfie with the beast. A reporter is burned to a crisp by the monster’s flames, while the news ticker dryly comments on the event. The movie is most funny when nutty things are simply happening on-screen.

Though indecisively placed between parody and wack-a-doo homage, I still had fun with “Death Kappa.” Something insane is happening most every second of its short 79 minute run time. The effects are cheap but charming. The movie moves along at a nice pace, smoothly going from one crazy set-piece to another. On the short list of kaiju movie parodies, it’s far more consistent then “The Monster X Strikes Back” but never reaches the giddy heights of “Gehara.” That’s a comfortable half-way point to be at. [7/10]

Zombeavers (2015)

As I’ve mentioned before, there’s actually a market now for horror movies with intentionally ridiculous threats. People are making bad movies on purpose. We’ve reached peak irony saturation, you guys. Occasionally, this idea will produce a gem like “Lost Skeleton of Cadavra." Usually, it produces trying-too-hard, obnoxious crap like… “Zombeavers!” Obviously conceived as a title first and everything else second, the film was written by Jon and Al Kaplan. The two run a delightful Youtube channel, full of musical versions of macho eighties action flicks. Disappointingly, their feature film has none of the charm or humor of those shorts.

Jenn, Mary, and Zoe are a pair of college girls who go on vacation to a lake-side cabin. Due to Jen’s boyfriend breaking her heart, this is a weekend without boys or cellphones. That lasts for about a day, until all the girls’ boyfriends show up. The day before, a truck had dumped a barrel of toxic waste in the lake. The chemicals have transformed the lake’s harmless beavers into undying monsters that attack viciously and spread their virus through bites or scratches. Now, a relaxing weekend has turned into a struggle to survive.

“Zombeavers” apparently went to the Eli Roth School of Character Development. From the moment the characters are introduced, they are making crude sexual references. Dick pics, sexual history, and pee are all brought up within the first ten minutes. The dialogue is full of profanity. Relatively early into the film, a character murders a dog. Amazingly, he stays alive for most of the rest of the movie. What’s the purpose of such obnoxious characters? Are their loudness suppose to be funny? Were the writers substituting personality with F-bombs? If we’re supposed to laugh at the cast, why does the movie get weirdly serious about them sometimes? The mystery of who is cheating on Jenn comes up repeatedly. When the mystery girl is revealed as one of the friends, “Zombeavers” is all too willing to treat the affair seriously. If the film is meant to be a parody, why are the characters’ taken seriously at all? If the characters are meant to be jokes, why are their serious scenes of them? All questions without answers.

“Zombeavers” is clearly meant to be a horror/comedy. Yet the film frequently underplays the “comedy” side of that equation. There are jokes. Like the truck drivers who are way too open with each other, played by John Mayer and Bill Burr for some reason. Or the teenage boy with a hat that says “#1 Dad,” one of the film’s funnier and more subtle gags. There’s a horny hunter who becomes more important later and a bear that is obviously taken from stock footage. For the most part though, “Zombeavers” seems to think merely the premise of “Zombie beavers!” is enough to power a whole comedy. Most of the movie plays like a straight horror film, the teen’s being attacked by the creatures, boarding up the cabin, or trying to make an escape.

Truthfully, you could switch out the beavers for most any woodland animal and the plot wouldn’t be changed that much. The movie doesn’t really utilize its titular critters that well. Yes, the beavers tunnel into the cabin after a while. However, there’s only one scene where we see them chew down a tree or hang out in a dam. Otherwise known as the things beavers are best known for. The beaver puppets are mildly amusing though their charm quickly wears out. Worst yet, the zombeaver’s condition is contagious. Thus, most of the movie’s last third is devoted to humanoid beaver zombies. This removes the film’s central gimmick, making it a generic zombie flick. Despite being so obviously committed to the “zombie beaver” idea, the film doesn’t seem to understand that concept’s appeal very well.

The girls are all pretty cute and usually in one state of undress or another. There’s plenty of sex and nudity in the movie, if you’re looking for that kind of thing. I could even imagine Rachel Melvin or Cortney Palm being entertaining in a much better movie. (Lexi Atkins is a bore though.) “Zombeavers” proves what we already know. A goofy premise and a knowing approach is not enough to build a film upon, especially if crass vulgarity and annoying characters is the only other thing you bring to the table. Jon and Al should stick to Youtube videos. [4/10]

Tales from the Crypt: Whirlpool

This is the second time loop story I’ve seen this season. What the odds? Anyway, Rolanda is a writer for the “Tales from the Crypt” comic. (This is also the second time this show has done that meta-reference, previously seen in season two’s “Korman’s Kalamity.”) Rolanda’s boss doesn’t think much of her work and, after an especially bad story, fires her. That night, she returns to the office, murders him, and is gun down by the police. The next day, Rolanda awakes and experiences the same events again. After every death, the day starts over. Attempts to break the cycle only further muck it up, trapping Rolanda in an unending cycle of defeat and murder.

On a story level, there’s not a lot to say about “Whirlpool.” Once the time loop idea is introduced, it’s easy to see where this is going. That the day will start the same but the main character will find some new way to end up dead. There’s some fun curve balls tossed at the audience. I like the opening scene, which progresses like a typical “Tales from the Crypt” episode before we see that… It’s actually a page from a “Tales from the Crypt” comic book. The last scene is an interesting switcharoo as well. Mick Garris, a director who has always had more luck then talent in my opinion, contributes some decent visuals. Mostly, “Whirlpool” is about the performances. Rita Rudner is funny as the put-upon Rolanda, who is cracking apart with stress, then confusion, and finally madness. Ricahrd Lewis plays a very Richard-Lewis-y part as her abrasive boss. It doesn’t break any new ground but “Whirlpool” puts a decent spin on its idea while maintaining that “Tales from the Crypt” sense of morbid humor. [7/10]

So Weird: Pen Pal

So here’s another episode of “So Weird: Season Three” that has an interesting idea but a juvenile execution. The Philips household receives a letter from Annie, detailing her trip to Washington D.C. with her friend, Jennifer. In the pictures, Annie wears black, has a lip piercing, and talks about getting a tattoo. This all runs counter to how Annie actually looks, acts, and lives. Soon, Annie realizes that a version of herself from an alternate reality has somehow crossed over into this one.

“Pen Pal” begins with the idea that every decision we make, no matter how small, creates an alternate universe. This is fascinating. We’ve all made mistakes that wouldn’t have happen if we had done something differently. However, “Pen Pal” simplifies too much. Instead of being a studious teenie-bopper, the other Annie ditches school, gets tattoos, and uses words like “dank,” “dawg,” or “wiggin’.” (That she dresses like a goth but uses hip-hop slang shows that the writers were… Confused.) The confrontation between normal Annie and Other Annie is resolved bluntly. Annie grabs her other self. Instead of dissolving into goo like Ron Silver in “Timecop,” this causes Other Annie and her bad influence friend Jennifer to vanish. Did Annie just casually wipe out an entire universe? Also, that stupid spirit panther shows up in a pointless appearance. The episode’s emotional heart, about Molly wondering if Annie feels accepted in her new family, is buried under overly broad writing and simplistic understanding of complex issues. In other words, business as usual for this season. [5/10]