Kaiju Month isn't quite concluded here at Film Thoughts. I know, I know, I've uploaded like six updates today. Originally, I had planned to put the "G.M.K." review up on Monday, post the reviews for the Kiryu films yesterday, and post the final two Millennium movies today. However, I mysteriously lost internet access over the weekend. So that's why I've piled five reviews on you guys today. I'm fairly proud that I manage to wrap up such a large project within the space of a month and some change. I'm all ready for you now, new Godzilla movie!
Also today, because everything waits with the last minute with me, the latest episode of the Bangers n' Mash Show went up. As promised, it is also about Godzilla. Here, we cover the first eight films of the Showa era. As long-time readers/listeners should know by now, I draw extensively from the reviews I've posted here over the last several weeks. However, I'm actually fairly pleased with the way this one turned out. While I still ramble a plenty, JD is unusually engaged in the topic this week.
Kaiju Month is technically over just yet. Obviously, there are three more Godzilla-themed Bangers n' Mash episodes coming and I intend to review the new Hollywood Godzilla flick as soon as I see it. However, May is going to be a little more low key for me. Come on, guys, I technically posted a review every day this month. I usually only do that in October. Give me a break. Which isn't to say I'm not planning stuff. Actually, I should have a new Director's Report Card ready before June begins. Hopefully! Nobody's reading this so I don't know why I'm going on but you'll probably hear from me again soon.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Series Report Card: Gamera (2006)
Chiisaki Yūsha-tachi: Gamera /
Gamera: Little Braves
The Heisei Gamera trilogy completely redefined what Gamera was for an entire generation of monster fans. The cutting-edge special effects, serious story lines, and dark and gritty content were as far as you could get from the campy silliness of the Showa period. Gamera use to be a joke but now things had, perhaps, gone too far in the other direction. Entire fandoms knew the giant turtle, not as the giddy Friend to All Children, but only as the grim Guardian of the Universe. Yet these things tend to go in cycles. Just as Christopher Nolan’s hyper-realistic “Dark Knight” trilogy made way for the awesome-for-awesome-sake’s “Batman: Brave and the Bold,” the violent and bleak “Gamera 3: Revenge of Iris” led to “Gamera the Brave.” Made just a year late for the big turtle’s fortieth anniversary, the film attempted to combine the kid-friendly spirit of the Showa age with the advanced special effects and serious storytelling of the nineties series.
In the 1970s, the original Gamera self-destructed to destroy a flock of attacking Gyaos, as witnessed by a group of people, including a young boy. Thirty years later, that boy has grown into a man, with a young son of his own. The man’s wife and the boy’s mother recently died, leaving young Toru confused and uncertain. In his loneliness, Toru finds an egg, a seemingly normal turtle hatching form it. Naming it Toto, Toru quickly discovers the turtle is anything but normal. Able to fly and breath fire, Toto is the off-spring of the original Gamera. When the town is threatened by another giant monster, the quickly growing Toto has to inherit his father’s legacy as defender of the human race.
“Gamera the Brave” does a rather astonishing thing. It roots a giant monster action movie in a very human story. Toru, who can’t be any older then nine, is introduced kneeling at his mother’s grave. The boy’s father assures him that his mother is watching them from heaven. Toru isn’t so sure. The boy’s relationship with his father is slightly strained. Toru is a meloncholey kid and his dad, struggling to run a small business, doesn’t truly know how to deal with that. The young boy seems surrounded by death as his closest friend Mai, the slightly older girl next door, is suffering from a potentially fatal heart condition. Like the best of Speilberg, “Gamera the Brave” has an acute understanding of how lonely childhood can be.
As Toto grows from a palm sized turtle to a larger tortoise, “Gamera the Brave” grows with him. The three boys sneaking the growing creature out of the house to a safer location reminds me of “The Goonies,” “Explorers,” and other classic kids-on-an-adventure flicks. Toru has quiet talks with the turtle at the beach-front tree house. As he learns about the history of Gamera, how the original self-destructed, the fear of death looms again. Around the same time, Mai heads into the hospital for surgery. The two events are obviously connected. The young boy has to confront his fear of death head-on. As Toto grows into a mighty Gamera, battling a deadly foe, the story becomes about the will to survive in the face of death’s inevitability.
When images of a cuter Gamera appeared on the internet, fans of the darker ‘90s series were dismayed. Was the Gamera series returning to its sillier roots? Both yes and no. “Gamera the Brave” does indeed feature some goofy, cute turtle antics. When Mai catches a glimpse of Toto as he flies, both girl and turtle shriek in surprise. Left alone at the house while Toru plays with his new friends, the turtle goes exploring. He bounces down the stairs, a hilarious sight gag. Once in the kitchen, the baby Gamera just barely avoids being detected by Toru’s skeptical father. The turtle tests out his fire-breathing powers on a knife, a cutesy reference to “Gamera vs. Guiron.” Moments like this perhaps push things too far. Toto sliding around a buttered pan as Toru races around a skate park is too on the nose. Your enjoyment of these scenes probably depends on your tolerance for cute animal antics. As a long-life fans of turtle, I have to say I loved these moments.
As an infant, Toto resembles a normal turtle. As he grows, he starts to look like a tortoise, with slightly wider, more expressive eyes. In his mature form, Toto gains a pair of big, anime eyes, along with stubby, incomplete tusk. The cuteness of the design is probably pushed too far in this final form. Even Showa Gamera was never cuddly. However, for the purpose of the film, the Toto design is effective. One of the film’s weaknesses is that Zedus, the enemy monster, is a somewhat uninspired design. The reptilian monster eats humans, like Gyaos, and attacks with his extending tongue, like Barugon. A “Godzilla vs. Gamera” movie, a kaiju fan dream film, has been discussed for years. “Gamera the Brave” almost plays like an unofficial version of that battle. Zedus’ reptilian appearance, lizard-like posture, and long tail certainly recalls the King of the Monsters. Zedus’ spear tongue is an interesting weapon but his second distinctive feature, a neck frill, winds up looking somewhat awkward. His brief screen-time allows for little personality. Zedus is easily the least memorable Gamera villain this side of Jiger.
Another flaw of the film is its brief government subplot. Early on, we get some brief mention of Japan having a special government unit devoted to giant monsters. This actually makes a lot of sense. However, with the focus being so squarely on Toru and his relationships, this subplot isn’t allowed much growth. When the callous scientists capture Toto for testing, it comes off like a typical plot turn. Naturally, the giant turtle escapes custody, just in time for the final fight. The military and scientists put in some token appearances afterwards but they’re ultimately an underdeveloped part of the film.
The film’s best moment actually only involves the monsters in a background capacity. Mai holds the red stone that could give Gamera the charge he needs to win. However, she’s stuck in an emergency shelter, far away from the action. A compassionate child hears her cries and grabs the stone. She runs into the city, handing the stone off to another kid when the trip becomes too difficult. Understanding implicitly, that child continues the race, handing the prize off to another kid and another, until the stone finally reaches Toru. Low on dialogue and scored to Yoko Ueno’s excellent music, the scene plays out like a sweet, natural poem. For years, Gamera has understood children on a natural, innate level. “Gamera the Brave” shows them returning the favor. The act of bravery is enough to turn Toru’s dad around. He helps the boy up the tower, allowing him to reach Toru. Before handing the healing stone over to the turtle, the boy makes a stirring speech, letting Toto know how much he means to him and making him promise that he won’t give up, that he won’t die. The giant turtle nods, understanding. Recharged, he drops from the building, taking flight, and delivering the killing blow needed to defeat Zedus. As far as last acts in monster movies go, “Gamera the Brave” has one of the most poignant and elegantly constructed I’ve ever seen.
The film is helped by its excellent cast. For a young actor, Ryo Tomioka never falters as Toru. He doesn’t go for big, broad emotion, keeping things honest and personal. Tomioka holds the entire film together with his quiet, self-assured performance. For an actor that young, it’s an impressive achievement. Also great is the solo-named Kaho as Mai. The actress has the tricky job of playing both Toru’s older sister figure and his potential love interest. The two have a cute, believable interaction, a proper amount of concern on either side of the relationship. When Mai starts to believe in Toto near the end, Kaho really sells the emotions fantastically. Also notable is Kanji Tsuda as Toru’s father. Tsuda can never come as too harsh, keeping the balance between concern and frustration with his son. He does a great job, especially since the father holds a secret appreciation for giant flying turtles himself. Overall, the soulful script of “Gamera the Brave” wouldn’t matter half as much as it does without the excellent cast bringing it to life.
Series Report Card: Godzilla (2004)
Gojira: Fainaru Uozu
The Millennium age had failed to reproduce the Heisei era’s success at the box office. So Toho made the decision to bring the Godzilla series to an end, wrapping things up just in time for the famous kaiju’s fiftieth anniversary. The King of the Monsters wouldn’t be lumbering into his umpteenth retirement without one more final hurrah. For this landmark film, Toho brought in a bona fide action auteur, Ryuhei Kitamura, who had earned world-wide acclaim for energetic genre mash-ups like “Versus” and “Azumi.” Kitamura promised to deliver the ultimate Godzilla movie. A record-breaking total of fifteen monsters were packed into the film, many of them fan-favorite characters from the classic period. The movie’s comparatively large budget was in service of an epic sci-fi story that spanned the globe. “Godzilla: Final Wars” ultimately didn’t live up to that promise. However, it did accomplish something. It was the first Godzilla film in quite some time to feel like an event.
The world of “Godzilla: Final Wars” is one that has been consistently ravaged by giant monsters for fifty years. The constant threat has caused humanity to ban together, bringing about global peace in the face of annihilation. A Global Defense Force protects the Earth from the monsters, including the most powerful and feared, Godzilla. Working for the Force is a race of super-human mutants, men and women born with incredible power. As Earth is being troubled by a new kaiju invasion, space aliens appear, seemingly solving the problem. The mutant soldiers of the Defense Force aren’t so sure. Turns out, they were right not to believe the aliens. After winning our trust, the invaders unleash their monster army on the Earth, with the intent to destroy it. Put in a tough spot, the rogue band of human and mutant heroes are forced to awaken the slumbering Godzilla. Now as many times before, Earth’s greatest foe is its only hope.
“Final Wars” is deeply flawed. However, there’s one thing you can’t fault the movie for. “Godzilla: Final Wars” has a scope and energy unlike any other film in the series. Even “Destroy All Monsters,” the feature’s obvious inspiration, wasn’t as big or effects packed as this one. Elaborate action sequences, involving both humans and giant monsters, fill out the run time. Characters leap, run, sail through the air, and kung-fu fight in increasingly complex ways. The story takes place all over the world, skipping from Japan to America, Australia, even Antarctica. The alien invaders of past Toho films have frequently said they imperil the world. However, only “Final Wars” makes that threat feel genuine. The fate of the entire planet is at stake. It’s not a film short on ambitions, is what I’m saying.
Therein lies the rub. “Final Wars” can’t decide what kind of movie it wants to be. The film’s second scene is an acrobatic karate fight between two of the Earth Defense Force mutants. The characters kick, chop, and toss each other around in absurd ways. The focus remains on these superhuman heroes even after the monsters start their rampage. While Ebirah tears through Japan’s factory district, a team of mutants shoot the monster with laser guns, swinging around a silo and seemingly flying around the big lobster. The script focuses on a rivalry between empathetic Ozaki and hot-blooded Kazama. After the aliens reveal themselves, the story becomes about the heroes trying to uncover the Xiliens’ nefarious plot. Once the aliens are outed as deadly invaders, the movie kicks into its most ridiculous action scene yet. Kazama, controlled by the extraterrestrials, and Ozaki race on motorcycles, eventually kung-fu fighting on the bikes before using the bikes to kung-fu fight. Kitamura directs these scenes with his trademark exaggerated style, his direction calling attention to the artificiality of the stunts. While not without entertainment value of its own, this isn’t what the audience came for. Moreover, the movie’s constant ridiculously ramping action gets tiresome quickly.
Kitamura’s goal seemed to be to make a Godzilla film that measured up to Hollywood blockbusters. Perhaps he took this goal too literally. “Final Wars” cribs extensively from popular American films. The repeated use of the word “mutant” obviously invokes the “X-Men” franchise, M-Base standing in for X-Genes. A long section in the middle of the film is devoted to the heroes unmasking the aliens. The aliens reveal themselves by never blinking with their cover being blown on national television. The conspiracy-style sleuthing reminds me of “The X-Files” and similar shows. The alien mother ship has its shields blown down when an Earth pilot sacrifices himself, flying straight into the ship’s core, a plot point taken straight from “Independence Day.” The main villain shoots lightning from his fingers while cackling madly, a move that would have made Emperor Palpatine cock an eyebrow. The burnt-out remains of the Statue of Liberty blatantly recalls “Planet of the Apes.” The script is so indebted to other genre films that when the phase “Resistance is futile” is dropped, you can’t help but wonder if its intentionally parodying these classic films.
For a movie with his name above the title, “Godzilla: Final Wars” features surprisingly little Godzilla. The King of the Monsters is imprisoned at the beginning before disappearing for a solid hour. This is all the more frustrating since Kitamura is clearly a huge Godzilla fan. Prime spots are written for Showa age wonders like Gigan, Manda, King Caesar, Anguirus, and even the much maligned Minilla and Ebirah. Moreover, the script resurrects concepts from Toho’s sci-fi golden age. Invaders from Planet X, the super-battle sub Gotengo, and rogue planet Gorath are all plot relevant. The movie is packed full of in-jokes, like cutesy cameos from Kumi Mizuno, Akira Takarada, and Kenji Sahara. Hell, the words “Save the Earth!” are even shouted excitedly. When the movie isn’t fucking around with shit nobody cares about, it’s about Godzilla being an unstoppable badass, the one thing all G-Fans want to see.
For a fact, much of the monster action doesn’t feature Godzilla. The opening battle between Manda and the Gotengo is genuinely exciting, showing off how dynamic the rarely used Chinese dragon truly is. When the monsters raid the world, some exciting set pieces are shown. Ebirah wrecking the chemical plant, when it isn’t focused on the human bouncing around, features some satisfying building crushing. The monsters are unleashed on the world during an international montage. King Caesar stomps Okinawa. Kamacuras rockets through Paris, overturning the Eiffel Tower. His supersonic flight shatters glass, a nice image. The movie might even redeem two of the Godzilla-verse’s most maligned films. The TriStar Godzilla, redubbed Zilla, attacks Sydney, wrecking buildings and eating a pair of punk rockers. This sequence actually makes the overgrown iguana seem intimidating, something the 1998 flop never accomplished. Minilla, meanwhile, is featured in a subplot that intentionally recalls “Godzilla’s Revenge.” The man-sized monster befriends a human boy. Though he doesn’t talk, he does change size and blow atomic smoke rings. Minilla is even involved in yuk-fest antics like trying to drive a car.
Even then, there’s something unsatisfying about “Final Wars’” monster action. CGI is used too liberally. Anguirus’ bouncing around as a spiked ball is unconvincing. Many of the monster scenes are derailed by Kitamura’s peculiar sense of humor. While in New York, the film focuses on a cartoonish black pimp, the cop trying to tow his pimp caddy, and a drunken vagrant, who is also black. Needless to say, this moment doesn’t feature the most sophisticated racial politics. You’re real thankful when Rodan flies along, destroying the city and its offensive inhabitants. The monster rampage montage is interrupted by a hyper-active little kid screaming at his TV set. While in Arizona, Kumonga stomps on a redneck starring dumbfounded at the news. These moments are unnecessary, bizarre, and incredibly distracting.
As Godzilla marches towards Tokyo, “Final Wars” lumbers into its belabored last act. Earlier in the film, Gorath, the careening rogue planet, was dismissed as a hoax. Yet it shows up at the end anyway, Godzilla blasting it out of the sky. Beneath the Xilien mother ship, Godzilla battles the mysterious Monster X, an original kaiju inspired by H.R. Giger’s Alien. The combat is satisfying, featuring plenty of punching, tackling, and monster wrestling. However, the film’s climatic moment is constantly interrupted by other scenes. Mothra has to put in her required appearance, fighting Gigan to the death, her fairies reduced to cameos. The battle between Godzilla and Monster X cuts away to the action on the mother ship. The human heroes battle the invaders, via martial arts and laser guns. These scenes distract from the more-exciting kaiju fight while also draining the latter of most of its energy. The Xiliens are defeated but the movie’s not done yet. Monster X still has to transform into the newest version of King Ghidorah, the massive Keizer Ghidorah. By the time this last fight blows in, the viewer is exhausted. “Final Wars’” run time extends to 125 minutes, longer then any previous Godzilla film. It’s about a half-hour too long, the script’s frantic energy not being able to sustain itself for that long.
Since they take up so much screen time, you’d think I’d have more to say about the film’s human cast. Masahiro Matsuoka is serviceable as Ozaki. The character is too thin to provide the actor much meat but at least Matsuoko is never annoying. Kazuki Kitamura plays the leader of Planet X, an evil pretty boy with spiky hair. Kitamura goes gleefully over-the-top, finding a decent balance between humorous theatrics and cartoon super-villain menace. The female supporting cast is given little to do besides look nice in mini-skirts, not even flirting with the strangely asexual male heroes. The character that receives the most attention is American Captain Gordon. The bulky Gordon has a Freddie Mercury mustache. He disobeys his superior officers, wields a katana, and seems very willing to engage in physical conflict. The script works so hard to make Gordon a fan-favorite badass that you’re a little put off by him. He’s a cartoon action hero and, when he’s besting alien super-beings with his fists, it gets ridiculous. Don Frye’s performance, however, is just gruff enough to make the character interesting, if not convincing.
Maybe the most distracting thing about “Final Wars” is its awful musical score. Keith Emerson, prog-rock superstar, provided the music. The tinny electronic score swings between several different modes. Its heroic theme sounds like the theme song to an eighties Saturday morning cartoon. And not a good one. The score frequently lapses into techno-disco nonsense, which makes the action scenes difficult to take seriously. Emerson’s score sounds like it was composed on a single synthesizer, lacking any depth or resonance, coming off as extremely cheap. Adding to the indignity, once-sort-of-popular emo band Sum 41 contributes an original song. No matter how entertaining some of the action is, it’s embarrassing to watch Godzilla fight monsters to bad punk music. Ifukube’s original theme was so scandalized by the rest of the music that it only put in a single appearance at the very beginning.
Series Report Card: Godzilla (2003)
Gojira X Mosura X Mekagojira: Tōkyō Esu Ō Esu
In my reviews of the Millennium series, I keep referring to how the films are stand-alone stories, unconnected to previous sequels. Except for “Godzilla: Tokyo S.O.S.,” which totally breaks that rule. Apparently, “Godzilla Against MechaGodzilla” proved popular enough that a direct sequel was demanded. Kiryu and Godzilla’s rivalry would continue. In another example of mass appeal, “Tokyo S.O.S.” would thrown in Toho’s second most popular kaiju, Mothra. Could a direct sequel, even with the extra monster, top the popcorn action fun of “Godzilla Against MechaGodzilla?”
Picking up a year after the previous film, the threat of Godzilla continues to hang over Japan. Repairs have been made on Kiryu but the public remains uncertain about the robotic monster. Mothra’s twin fairies appear for the first time in forty years, warning Japan that they broke a natural law when they dug up the original Godzilla’s skeleton and used it to build MechaGodzilla. Mothra provides an ultimatum: Either return Godzilla’s bone to the ocean or he’ll be forced to destroy Tokyo. As a show of good faith, Mothra promises to protect the country should Godzilla appear. When that inevitably happens, the giant insect is flies into action. Ultimately, it doesn’t prove enough and Kiryu is forced out of retirement for one more job.
“Tokyo S.O.S.” is a flawed film but one issue stands above all the others. Akane Yashiro was a fan pandering character if one ever existed, hitting many tokusatsu otakus right in the heart. The character was far from brilliant. Honestly, she was fairly thin. However, the audience still developed an affinity for her. “Godzilla Against MechaGodzilla” ended with Akane ready to pilot Kiryu again, ready to defend Japan once more. You’d expect the sequel to follow her latest adventure, right? She’s barely in the movie. Yumiko Shaku returns as Akane for a brief cameo near the beginning of the film. She talks about how Kiryu doesn’t want to fight anymore and neither does she. Way to write off your protagonist, Toho. That’s more then the 27th films other main characters get. Inventor Tokumitsu Yuhara and his daughter Sara never appear. “Tokyo S.O.S.” continues the story but without the primary cast.
The Shinsei era’s one-off approach generally appeals to me, save for one thing. If every story is stand-alone, that means we miss out on Toho’s expansive gallery of kaiju. “Tokyo S.O.S.” at least makes the effort to expand the universe’s scope, even if its just for two films. In addition to referencing the original “Godzilla,” this film is also a sequel to the original “Mothra.” Hiroshi Koizumi, who appeared in several golden age Toho flicks, reprises his role of Dr. Shin-ichi Chujo. The fairies appear to Shin-chi because they know they can trust him. Mothra’s 1961 attack on Tokyo is referenced several times. The butterfly’s cross symbol, frequently overlooked, is an important plot point. Rarely seen Kamoebas, the giant turtle from 1970’s “Space Amoeba,” also puts in an appearance as one of Godzilla’s off-screen victims. As interesting as the clean-slate approach can be, it’s nice to see a Godzilla flick with a sense of history.
Adding the mystical Mothra to the more solidly sci-fi Kiryu-verse presents problems of its own. The entire starting point of the plot is that Mothra wants Godzilla’s bones return to the sea. Why? We’re never provided with an explanation other then mortals shouldn’t try to revive the dead. Why exactly Mothra is so invested in this isn’t expounded on. Furthermore, why the insect goddess is willing to put her life on the line for these people also isn’t questioned. The logic behind Mothra appearing instantly whenever her symbol is drawn also doesn’t seem sound. Mothra works in mysterious ways and it seems like the screenwriters didn’t want to go any further then that.
Seemingly to compensate, the final hour of the film is solidly devoted to monster action. Godzilla and Mothra’s battle in Tokyo features some fun moments. Amusingly, much focus is paid to Godzilla’s facial expressions. His look of confusion when Mothra first appears, and his visible, continued frustration with the moth, got a lot of laughs out of me. The battle between the two classic rivals features some other great stunts. I like how Godzilla’s atomic breath explodes from his mouth in a great, fiery plume. Mothra flies circles around the dinosaur, inadvertently leading to the umpteenth destruction of the Tokyo Tower. While attempting to scratch Godzilla’s eyes out with his claws, Mothra gets tossed through a building. The most spectacular moment in the film is the very end. In order to protect her children, Mothra dives in front of Godzilla’s breath weapon. The moth goddess goes up in flames, burning to ashes in minutes. You feel bad for the creature but it’s a lovely way to go.
Compared to the over-the-top theatrics of “Against’s” fight, the battle between Godzilla and Kiryu here is much more muted. The robotic copy bombards the original with missiles and laser beams, hiding behind the building. Unimpressed, Godzilla just shoots his energy beam through the building, still connecting with Kiryu. There are no rocket tackles or flying bodies here. Kiryu tosses Godzilla over his shoulder upon meeting him again, a great stunt, but, otherwise, the action is more grounded. MechaGodzilla has ditched the lame Absolute Zero cannon for a more standard laser blast. The two wrestle, diving through the Diet building. When Godzilla is on the ropes, Kiryu forms one of his hands into a drill, goring a hole in the real deal’s chest.
The Mothra design here is very different then the wasp-like design seen in “G.M.K.” Instead, this Mothra recalls the Heisei “Rebirth of Mothra” series. The moth goddess is fluffier then ever before. Long white hair dangles off her face and body. As cute as the kaiju potentially is, there’s just enough roughness to the design to make it clear that Mothra is a force to reckon with. By this point, Toho’s special effects department has mastered how to bring the giant butterfly to life. Though CGI is deployed a few times, Mothra is mostly a beautifully realized puppet. The creature moves realistically and naturally. Flashier Heisei special moves, like eye beams, are ditch for the standard poison powder and blinding speed. The caterpillars are more simplified, the facial tusk of “Gojira tai Mosura” now becoming animated feelers. The Godzilla and MechaGodzilla suits are completely unchanged from last time.
The impressive kaiju combat builds to a disappointing conclusion. While the three-way battle between Godzilla and the Mothra larva is raging overhead, the movie’s hero is rushing to the aide of the damaged Kiryu. While toiling through a collapsing underground tunnel, the Shobijin magically appear to help him out, an especially clumsy moment. The sequence focuses on the human hero seems to go on for an extended amount of time, distracting from the more-interesting monster fight. Chujo climb into Kiryu, and the way he revives the machine, is far too drawn out. The monster fight ends on a flat note. Godzilla essentially stands still while the little Mothra’s wrap him up in silk. MechaGodzilla, now following the instincts of his natural mind, grabs Godzilla and dives into the ocean with him. Before that note, we have an extended scene of Chujo tumbling out of the robot’s back, landing on a jet below. That moment is hopelessly cheesy, especially when Kiryu bides the scientist farewell. As far as conclusions go, Godzilla getting dropped into the ocean is one we’ve seen many times before.
Series Report Card: Godzilla (2002)
Gojira X Mekagojira
It’s hard to say if Toho doesn’t learn its lessons or if the company is willing to experiment. The first two films of the new Godzilla era had the King of the Monsters fighting newly created enemies. Both underperformed at the box office. The third film brought back two of the series’ most popular supporting monsters. It was, naturally, a big success. Determined to give the people what they want, for the fourth Millennium film, Godzilla would face his second most reoccurring adversary once more. Because the people demanded it, the ever-popular MechaGodzilla would be reinvented yet again. However, is it possible for a movie to give audience too much of a good thing?
Like all the previous Shinsei films, “Godzilla Against MechaGodzilla” has no continuity with prior Godzilla films, save the original. Godzilla razed Tokyo in 1954 before dying at the hands of Dr. Serizawa’s Oxygen Destroyer. In the years since, Japan has been threatened by other giant monsters, like Mothra and Gaira. The Japanese army formed an anti-kaiju squadron in case another creature appears. On the forty-fifth anniversary of the original attack, another Godzilla appears. The monster completely crushes the monster defense squad, forcing the military to rethink their plan. An expert in experimental robotics is called in, building a hi-tech robot over the skeleton of the original Godzilla. When the real deal appears again, the military counters him with Kiryuu, the latest version of MechaGodzilla.
“Godzilla Against MechaGodzilla” seems designed to appease hardcore fans. The film features elements that are favorites among Japanese Otakus. The lead character, Akane Yashiro, is an attractive young woman soldier. During Godzilla’s 1999 attack, she watches helplessly while her squadron of men are killed by the monster. Traumatized, she closes herself off from human affection, focusing on her training. Cue the slow motion training montage, featuring some bouncing breasts! When she is given the chance to pilot Kiryu, Akane learns to love again, from the scientist, his precocious daughter and, yes, even the robot dinosaur. Akane’s character is rather reminiscent of the tsundere anime archetype. That she is romanced by a chubby, middle-age man stinks of wish fulfillment. Oh, and Japanese nerds also like giant robots.
In addition to the fan-favorite monster, moe protagonist, and fighter jet cock-swinging, the script also includes a cute little girl learning to cope with her mother’s death. Doctor Tokumitsu Yuhara has a young daughter named Sara. Her mother died while pregnant with her potential baby sister a few years ago. Since then, Sara has been withdrawn. She obsesses over a plant left to her by her mom. She’s close to her quirky dad and, through him, grows close to Akane. The girl and the pilot learn from each other, the little girl discovering that life continues and the soldier discovering that her own life has value. The movie doesn’t push this too hard but still comes dangerously close to being sappy.
The movie panders openly to the fans, right down to cutesy cameos from original Godzilla babe Kumi Mizuno, Misato Tanaka as a sexy nurse, and baseball player Hideki “Godzilla” Matsui. As blatant as some of these scenes are, it almost doesn’t matter. When it comes to high octane monster action, “Godzilla Against MechaGodzilla” delivers. Godzilla emerges from the ocean behind an oblivious reporter, more focused on hurricane around him then the giant monster behind him. Godzilla’s attack is surprisingly vicious, visibly crushing a tank under foot. Godzilla can’t even be bothered to shrug off the missiles and laser beams the military pelt him with. The suit here is widely based off the look Godzilla sported in “2000.” The reptilian posture and giant back scutes are kept, though the latter lose their purple hue. The best change is a more size appropriate head and striking yellow eyes.
The first time the two monsters cross one another is slightly disappointing. Godzilla rampages through the city, interrupting a baseball game and tourists at a sea life amusement park. Kiryu confronts him but their conflict is short lived. The original Godzilla gets blasted with some missiles and laser beams, shrugging them off but not advancing. Upon roaring, Kiryu’s inner Goji is awoken, which is visualized by the camera rushing through his eye and into his brain. This leads to a very entertaining monster rampage. MechaGodzilla explodes large portions of the city with his wrist-mounted laser. Most memorably, he walks straight through a building. Doesn’t smash or crush it. Just casually steps through the structure, leaving a monster-sized hole behind.
That chaotically creative streak powers the film’s second half. MechaGodzilla flies into Tokyo, silhouetted against a full moon. He tackles Godzilla at high speed, powered by his rocket jets. The robot grabs the dinosaur by his tail, swinging him around in a full circle. Both combatants are tossed through buildings, wrecking plenty of collateral damage. There’s a good balance between close-quarters grappling and laser bombardment. Mostly, it’s the theatrical tackling, tossing, and flying that impressed me about the final fight. It’s ridiculous and many of the optical effects look incredibly fake. However, the out-there quality of the fight reminds me of the crazy spectacle of the later Showa series.
Even though all the Millennium series are meant to be stand alone stories, “Godzilla Against MechaGodzilla” ends on, more or less, a cliffhanger. Godzilla is beaten back for the day, wounded but far from dead. Kiryu has won, momentarily, but is in need of serious repairs. Akane has regained her courage and is ready for Japan’s next invasion. After the credits, we see her sharing a moment with Tokumitsu and Sara. The pilot more or less says that Kiryu must be rebuild and Godzilla will return. Following this expectation, the film received a sequel the next year, the only direct follow-up seen in the Shinsei era.
Amidst the monster combat, it’s easy to overlook the film’s performance. Yumiko Shaku is saddled with such a cheesy character that it’s hard to gauge her acting. Akane is a cliched, stocks-parts heroine and the motions she goes through are very routine. However, Shaku is never offensively bad and usually competent in the part. More likable is Shin Takuma as Tokumitsu. His character is slightly absent-minded and generally an awkward nerd. His clumsy attempt to win Akane’s affection come of as charming. Young Kana Onodera is hassled with some very goofy dialogue as Sara. However, there’s a heart and a likable to her performance that saves it. Onodera brings the sincerity that is desperately needed. She’s funny too such as when she impresses her friends by walking into the military base on the way form school.
Series Report Card: Godzilla (2001)
Gojira - Mosura - Kingu Gidora: Daikaijū Sōkōgeki / GMK
The Millennium Godzilla series got off on disappointing notes. Neither “Godzilla 2000” nor “Godzilla vs. Megaguirus” were terrible. However, both were unambitious. Even though the rules set out by the new era would allow a filmmaker to do any sort of experimental thing with Godzilla and his band of monsters, both films mostly stuck to familiar outlines. Enter Shusuke Kaneko, the filmmaker who had wildly reinvented Gamera in the nineties with a critical acclaimed trilogy of films. Kaneko would be the first filmmaker to use the blank slate the new era provided to create a Godzilla film that is truly different and exciting.
It has been forty-seven years since Godzilla has last appeared in Japan. The world has been without giant monsters since then. However, a recent missing submarine has the country’s military worried, Admiral Tachibana most of all. Meanwhile, his daughter Yuri, a reporter for a pseudo-science documentary show, is investigating monsters. She learns about the three legendary Guardian Monsters of Japan, ancient giant beasts that are suppose to protect the country in times of needs. An old man Yuri interviews believes Godzilla is possessed by the angry spirits of the victims of World War II and that the Guardian Monsters are our only hope. When an angry and violent Godzilla inevitably surfaces, Baragon, Mothra, and King Ghidorah are awoken to protect the people. Yet Godzilla is more punishingly powerful then ever before, forcing Yuri, her friend Takeda, and her father to become directly involved in the fight against the monster.
In his sixty year history, Godzilla’s nature has remained fairly consistent. Whether he’s a destructive force of nature, a wacky superhero, or a Chaotic Neutral anti-hero, he’s always a giant dinosaur mutated by nuclear radiation. The verbosely titled “Godzilla, Mothra, and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack,” usually shortened to “G.M.K.” by fans, changes all that. Kaneko instead boldly moves the series into the world of allegorical fantasy. Godzilla is now an angry spirit, the embodiment of the rage and anger felt by those killed in World War II. He appears to take that wrath out on a Japan that has forgotten that generation’s sacrifices. A change that drastic didn’t please all fans but, considering we had twenty-five films of traditional Godzilla, being presented with a radically different interpretation is fresh and exciting.
With his Gamera series, Kaneko invented an elaborate mythology for the much maligned giant turtle, mostly from an off-hand reference to Atlantis in the original movie. With “G.M.K.,” Kaneko works similar magic. Traditional Asian mythology is filled with Guardian Monsters. Tying pre-existing Toho monsters in with such an idea seems logical. The kaiju of Japanese cinema have frequently been treated like Gods, giant beasts above men, fighting for the fate of the world. Kaneko’s script makes this subtext literal. King Ghidorah, Mothra, and Baragon are now supernatural creatures, protecting Japan, and not necessarily mankind, against an aggressive spirit. Thus “G.M.K.” becomes a Godzilla film about parsing out Japan’s uncertain modern history. The Guardian Monsters represent Japan’s long history as an island nation rich in mythology and tradition. The monsters are directly linked to the country’s mythological background. They are from an older, more mystical place. The monsters don’t seem entirely happy with the way the country has progressed. Baragon and Mothra’s first course of action is to kill a group of teenage gang members. It can’t be a mistake that Mothra attacks some teenagers that are attempting to drown an Akita dog, a traditional symbol of the country. Godzilla, meanwhile, has become a symbol of Japan’s violent recent past as a military aggressor. The script makes certain to say that Godzilla isn’t powered solely by Japan’s fallen soldier. Instead, the spirits of all the people killed in the Pacific control the kaiju. Among them, perhaps, are the Chinese prisoners tortured in Unit 731 or POWs cannibalized on Chichi-Jima? The film never says as much but its more then implied. The film’s kaiju battles become a struggle between the country’s conflicting past. Emboldening a silly monster movie with such a message makes “G.M.K.” a far richer film then its immediate predecessors.
Kaneko’s “Gamera” films notably weaved captivating human stories in with the kaiju chaos. His Godzilla entry is no different. Chiharu Niyama plays Yuri Tachibana, a reporter for a low-rated paranormal news show. (Which is, not so subtly, called “BS Digital.”) She is a true believer at heart, wanting to believe in monsters and legends even before the kaiju appear. She’s also a fearless reporter. Even after sustaining a head injury, she jumps on a bike, a camcorder in hand, and takes chase after Godzilla. Niyama brings a fearlessness to an unusually meaty part. Masahiro Kobayashi plays Teruaki, a writer for a program and Yuri’s friend. In most movies, Teruaki would be a blatant love interest. Instead, the two seem to be friends first. Even after he saves Yuri’s life at the end, it seems to be out of loyalty, not romantic connection.
By changing Godzilla’s nature so totally, “G.M.K.” accomplishes something rather impressive: It makes Godzilla scary for the first time in forty-six years. Design wise, the kaiju heavily resembles the look he first sported back in ’54. Godzilla is fully upright, his scales charcoal grey, his back spines shortened, his posture almost human. However, one small change makes all the different. This new Godzilla has white, pupilless eyes. There’s no emotion behind those eyes other then pure, reckoning rage. The monster’s first act upon surfacing is to toss a fishing boat to the ground, killing its inhabitants. When crossing into a town, mobs of people flee in terror from the giant monster. The screaming seems to enraged him. In the distance, we see the entire town explode in a massive mushroom cloud. While rather literally connecting Godzilla to his nuclear past, this scene also establishes what a pitiless force he is.
Shusuke Kaneko’s original plan was to bring three of Toho’s more obscure creatures back as the Guardian Monsters. The studio nixed this idea, save for one. Baragon makes his first return to the screen since his 1968 cameo in “Destroy All Monsters.” Baragon now looks more like a Chinese Temple Dog then a borrowing dinosaur, connecting with his role as a Guardian Beast. The rust-colored skin, excellent suit, and life-like performance makes him an immediately striking creation. Though clearly outmatched in his battle with Godzilla, the kaiju continues on, biting onto the greater monster’s arm and refusing to let go. During their battle, the film doesn’t loose focus of the people on the ground. A news crew helicopter is crushed when Godzilla tosses Baragon into the air, prompting Yuri to fall to the ground in shock and grief. A clueless tourist asks to get her picture taken with the monster, unaware of how dangerous they are. When Godzilla blasts Baragon into pieces, it makes it clear how ruthless he is with the other monsters and what an up-hill battle this may be for our heroes.
The final Guardian Monster to face Godzilla is King Ghidorah. Considering Ghidorah has always been a villain before, it’s odd to see the three-headed dragon on the side of humanity. However, the movie mostly makes it work, even shrinking the notoriously huge creature’s size. Ghidorah’s design has always been evocative of a classic oriental dragon. The monster is referred to as an immature Orochi, having only grown three of his eight heads. The kaiju’s mythical connection to Japan is further cemented in his entrance. A businessman accidentally stumbles upon the creature, buried in a sheet of ice, while attempting to hang himself in Japan’s suicide forest. It’s easy to see how Ghidorah’s part was originally written for Anguirus, as the dragon maintains the ankylosaur’s tenacity. Godzilla puts the monster down repeatedly but Ghidorah keeps coming back for more.
Kaneko’s Gamera trilogy brought a deconstructive edge to the kaiju genre. “G.M.K” partially maintains that angle. When Godzilla appears, the camera angles are kept low to the ground, focusing on the helpless humans running from the massive beast. An unbelieving mother is left in a super market, screaming in disbelief at the monster’s existence. Kaneko’s “Gamera” composer, Ko Ohtani, came along for this new film too. His score combines pounding electronic music with more elegent or atmospheric elements. An interesting move is that the film holds back on the traditional Godzilla theme until its final minutes.
[Grade: A-]
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Series Report Card: Godzilla (2000)
Gojira x Megagirasu: G Shōmetsu Sakusen
In the nineties, it took about two films before the series got back on track at the box office. The Heisei experimented by creating a new enemy for Godzilla before audiences demanded the return of his supporting monsters. Despite this object lesson, Toho decided to experiment again in the Millennium era. “Godzilla vs. Megaguirus” paired the King of the Monsters against a newly invented foe, a mutated, mean-spirited, giant dragon fly. History repeated itself. “Godzilla vs. Megaguirus” grossed only ten million dollars at the box office, against an eight million dollar budget. Not a bomb but hardly a blockbuster hit, making the film the least successful of the Millennium age. Is the film’s creative quality in line with its financial reception?
The previous film established the rule of the Shinsei Era, that each film is a stand-alone story, unconnected to previous entries. In the alternate universe of “Megaguirus,” Godzilla attacked Japan in 1954, again in 1964, and most recently in 1996. Each time, the monster’s attacks were spurned on by his quest for nuclear energy to consume. Hoping to prevent further Godzilla attacks, the Japanese government outlaws nuclear research, powering the country with clean “plasma” energy. However, the military remains vigilant. A special research sector called the G-Graspers, led by a young officer with a personal grudge against the monster, devises new ways to defend the world from Godzilla. Their latest invention is a cannon that generates miniature black holes, an especially final solution to Japan’s giant monster problem. However, the black hole device rips a hole through time, bringing a deadly species of giant dragon flies into the present. As usual, Godzilla winds up being the world’s only protection from a bigger threat.
“Godzilla vs. Megaguirus” begins with an interesting premise. Freeing the story from previous continuity presents some new opportunities. Godzilla wasn’t killed in 1954 by the Oxygen Destroyer. Instead, as we see in footage from the original film with the new suit edited in, he escaped into the ocean. The film exists in a world were Godzilla’s appearance has completely changed the direction of history. The monster’s attraction to nuclear energy has forced Japan to pursue alternative fuel sources. Thus, the film takes place in a more scientifically advanced world where a crazy black hole generator seems like a plausible invention. However, the script doesn’t explore this alternate history premise any further. Instead, the change in series’ history simply means Godzilla has been around a while. The black hole device is simply a means to create the villain.
Instead, Kiriko’s development as a character is tied to the film’s other characters. She recruits rogue scientist Hajime Kudo to work on G-Grasper’s projects. Kudo is introduced impressing school kids by tricking them with his nanobots. The script treats him as an important character. However, his contributions to the story are mostly on a surface level. A locating device he gives to Kirko is hardly advanced science while a computer program he invents later in the film, a ridiculous interface involving an anime nurse, is completely implausible. The two characters are obviously meant to be budding romantic partners. However, there’s very little chemistry between Tanaka and the serviceable Shosuke Tanihara. The ending, a reprise of their earlier rice shop encounter, comes of as hilariously shallow. Kiriko bumps Kudo’s broken arm. She’s sympathetic towards him. That’s it. It’s an abrupt, off-tone ending, one that generates unintentional laughter instead of pathos.
Aside from Tsujimori and Kudo, the story also features a little boy. The kid discovers a strange egg after catching a brief glimpse of the giant dragon fly. He seems fascinated by the egg at first but, quickly realizing its trouble, drops it down a sewer pipe. There, the egg grows, producing other, smaller eggs. This is from where the swarms of insect monsters spawn. The boy is even the one who acknowledges the creature as a spin-off of the meganeura, a genuine species of prehistoric giant dragonfly. The kid is obviously lonely and his presence reminds me of classic Showa flicks. However, the character is underutilized, disappearing for large portions of the film. The attempt friendship between the boy and Tsujimori is a narrative dead end, isolated to two whole scenes, not affecting either character much. The movie might have been stronger had it focused on the little boy instead of the military officer.
Which brings me to the movie’s enemy monster. The creatures first appear as the larva-like Meganulon, named after and inspired by a similar monster from the original “Rodan.” The crawling man-sized insects roam the streets, picking off unsuspecting human victims. Scenes of the Meganulon hanging over a pair of clueless construction workers is surprisingly sinister. Later, the huge insect devours a pair of teenage lovers in an alley-way. This moment, with its human-focused chaos and unexpected blood, pushes the film into harder horror. It recalls both “Gamera 2: Attack of the Legion” and any number of American monster movies. Had the film followed that off-beat energy, the rest of the movie would have been more interesting.
Instead, the Meganulon sprout wings, becoming the near identical Meganula. The growing number of insects destroy the city’s plumbing and dam system, flooding parts of Tokyo. The movie surprisingly brushes off this plot development. Even though we see huge buildings drowned in water, no mention is made of the human lives invariably lost during such an event. The water logged city isn't paid much attention, the plot instead rushing towards the next development. A few memorable images come out of this section, such as Godzilla sleeping among the submerged structures or a skyscraper covered with Meganula, waiting to attack. Perhaps the shadow of the 2012 earthquake makes the sight of a flooded Japan far more ominous then it was back in 2000. Either way, it’s another undeveloped element of the script.
In execution, however, the creature goes wrong. The special effects in “Godzilla vs. Megaguirus” have not aged the best. Throughout the film, but especially when it rises from the flooded city, cables are seen holding the Megaguirus puppet up. Some of the digital matting effects are rickety. The giant bug doesn’t always appear to be in the same scene as its rival monster. It makes sense for the monster’s wings to beat at super-sonic speed. However, the model’s actual wings making way for digitally vibrating versions isn’t convincing looking. During the big fight with Godzilla, the massive dragonfly frequently zips around the big dinosaur. The computer-aided flight only looks awkward and cartoonish now. The movie’s underwhelming box office was actually blamed on the subpar special effects. Which isn’t very fair but, no doubt, the effects are distracting.
However, somethings are easier to forgive then others. In its latter half, “Godzilla vs. Megaguirus” finally starts to function smoothly. Godzilla and Megaguirus’ battle has a long prologue, where the dragonfly zips circles around the Monster King. POV shots from the giant insects’ point of view are used throughout, giving us a shaky, almost-bullet time like look at the battle. The flying insect has the upper hand at first, knocking Godzilla about and dropping a building on his head. The flying creature stabs his enemy with his stinger, slowly draining his strength. When this happens, it looks like Megaguirus has speared Godzilla in the groin which is somewhat… Embarrassing. A close-quarter scuffle, where the insect starts clawing and biting, is more successful. One of my favorite bits involves Godzilla ducking just in time, clipping one of Megaguirus’ claws with his back spines. The most notorious moment in the film, and its most giddy, is when Godzilla stabs the other kaiju’s stinger into the ground. Pinned, the rotund dinosaur king actually leaps into the air, performing a delirious body-slam on the giant bug. It’s a hilariously silly moment, one recalling the series’ sixties heyday, and also a lot of fun.
The Dimension Tide black hole cannon, Godzilla’s sudden reappearance, and Kiriko’s revenge are all hastily wrapped up in the film’s final minutes. The script treats Godzilla more as a simple animal then a natural force, one that’s motivated by his hungers and little else. The reveal that the Japanese government hasn’t stopped nuclear experimentation is interesting but not focused on. There could be a theme here about how weapons always only lead to chaos. The Atom Bomb produced Godzilla and now Japan’s latest super weapon, the black hole cannon, has created the Megaguirus. However, the script ultimately can’t support this potential theme, more concerned with its unambitious characters.
Two films in and Godzilla’s Millennium era has yet to hit it out of the park. “Godzilla vs. Megaguirus” introduces an interesting new kaiju threat and features some delightfully energetic monster fights. However, its dull characters and uneven special effects wind up hampering the film. It’s not as good as “Godzilla 2000” which wasn’t quite great to begin with. The new series seemed content to try what worked before instead of doing something daring. [Grade: B-]
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