Foster on Film – Page 95 – The Film Criticism of Matthew M. Foster

Frankenstein Conquers the World (1965)

Oct 081965

The still beating heart of Frankenstein (they don’t say Frankenstein’s Monster; they say Frankenstein) is taken to Japan in 1945, but it is lost when the atomic bomb destroys Nagasaki. Fifteen years later, an American medical researcher (Nick Adams), his sidekick vivisectionist, and a nurse find a radiation resistant boy with a flat head. The boy soon grows to giant size (ummmm, I guess because of the radiation, because that’s what always happens to anything that gets a dose of radiation…) and runs around in a continually enlarging shirt, till he finds a reptilian cocker spaniel to punch.

What the hell? Ummm. Really. Just, what the hell?

For this film to go into production, a room full of suits had to say the words, “Yeah, a giant Frankenstein, that’s a good idea. We’ll put up the cash, but only if he fights an immense puppy.” Yes, this is one of the dumbest daikaiju films you’ll find, and considering there’s a giant flaming turtle out there, that’s saying something.

It starts amazingly well, remembering that it is about who eventually wrestles a reptilian puppy. In war torn Nazi Germany, a mad scientist (with full 1940s Universal Pictures-type lab) is interrupted from his work by soldiers, who take away a chest that holds the heart of Frankenstein. Thud-dum, thud-tum, thud-dum. A u-boat rendezvous with a Japanese sub (and is then destroyed) which carries the heart to Nagasaki. Thud-dum. We all know what happens next. This is good stuff. Very moody. It could be the beginning of a gothic horror picture or perhaps a film using Frankenstein as a metaphor for the pain the people of Japan felt over the nuclear destruction of a major city. But it isn’t. It’s the beginning of a really goofy giant monster flick.

Fans of guys in rubber suits stepping on plastic houses may think I’m being severe; after all, it’s all about the monsters, right? Wrong. This movie is all about the two unpleasant doctors and the cute chick. They talk about the monster. They look for the monster. Most of the time is spent with them. Are they interesting enough to hold the picture together? Almost, in that they are sadistic sons of bitches. When the sidekick looks up the old Nazi doctor, he’s told that the way to tell if the boy they have is Frankenstein is to chop off a limb; if it grows back, he’s Frankenstein, and if it doesn’t, he’s just an armless kid. It’s the sort of thing you’d expect an evil mad scientist to say. But sidekick guy embraces this wholeheartedly. OK, he’s a prick. But the swell American doc doesn’t object either. His only comment is that they should get the girl’s opinion. He’s supposed to be the good guy? Am I missing something about 1960s Japanese culture? Well, I hope you find that intriguing because you’ll spend a lot of time with these three.

Scenes with the monster don’t help. He starts as this obviously Asian kid (which they insist is Caucasian; is this payback for all those white guys who played Charlie Chan?) with a flat head and and the look of someone with severe mental retardation. As the film goes on, he looks the same, but gets to stand next to miniature trees. The big fight has him pitted against Baragon, a burrowing quadruped with a cheesy light beam, glowing horn, and big floppy ears. Since he’s just a guy on his hands and knees in a suit, he looks like he’s trundling along, his ears waggling as he goes. Not exactly ferocious. There’s a few good moments when you can only see the creatures in silhouette due to the flames behind them, but the climax is too convenient and completely out of the blue.

For anyone looking for the true, undubbed version, there isn’t one. American actor Nick Adams, who puts in the same kind of subpar performance here that he would manage in Godzilla vs. Monster Zero delivers his lines in English while the rest of the cast sticks with Japanese. Choose a version, and someone is dubbed. I originally saw the American version (everyone except Adams is dubbed) at the theater when I was five. I recall finding it fun, but stupid, forgettable, and too juvenile (I probably said something like: “That was for babies.” I doubt I used the term juvenile at the time). For this review, I watched it in Japanese (Adams is dubbed into that language by a guy with a substantially deeper voice), with English subs. I can’t say one is better than the other, although the subtitles certainly produce more unintentional humor, unless you think “atomic disease” is a good phrase to replace “radiation poisoning.” I still found the film occasionally fun (far too occasionally), but stupid, forgettable, and too juvenile.

It is also known as Frankenstein vs. Baragon. One of its pre-release names was Frankenstein vs. the Giant Devil Fish, where “the Giant Devil Fish” refers to an octopus that Frankenstein fought. However, the octopus footage was cut. The scene is rumored to be in the Japanese release, but it was not in the version I watched.

Foreign Language, Giant Monsters, Reviews Tagged with: One Reel

Curse of the Fly (1965)

Oct 081965

Beautiful escaped mental patient, Patricia Stanley (Carole Gray), is picked up by Martin (George Baker), a descendent of Andre Delambre, who first created the teleporter. The two fall in love and marry. But Patricia knows nothing of his accelerated aging, or the experiments he carries out with his father, Henri (Brian Donlevy), and brother, Albert. Those experiments have resulted in horrible mutations in human subjects, including Martin’s first wife, who is kept in a cell.

She’s an escapee from a mental institute; he’s a mutant that imprisons his disfigured first wife. Both are keeping their secrets. Can these two crazy kids make a go of it?

Six years after the mindless Return of the Fly, we get this creepy horror film that would have worked better without any connection to the previous films, particularly as there is no Fly (I can forgive that as there is no Thin Man in the five sequels to The Thin Man and the Pink Panther gem is missing from a majority of the films that bear that name). There is a picture of The Fly from the second film, though I’m hard pressed to think when the monster took a moment to pose for publicity photos.

The basic idea is a good one—a mentally unstable but sympathetic girl marrying into a nice family that turns out to be filled with mad scientists. Directed in a gothic style by James Whale, it would have been powerful. But this was made for drive-ins, with harsh lighting and cardboard machines. When we stick with Patricia’s point of view, even the lesser skills of director Don Sharp makes a compelling work. Her pain and fear are real. Plus the beginning shot of her breaking out of the asylum, clad only in her underwear and running in slow motion, is beautiful and shows what the film could have been.

But the film doesn’t stay with her. Instead, suspense is tossed away as we’re given plodding scenes of the Delambres discussing the dangers of teleporting and the need to do it secretly. I’m lost on why they haven’t gone public and made billions (even a teleporter with problems would be worth a fortune). Of course they have those mutants to worry about…

As in the previous film, the police work in strange ways. In this case, they appear to keep a woman sitting on a bare wooden chair in her coat for several days. Either that, or she keeps popping back (in the same coat), and placing her purse in the same place. We also have an elderly policeman who sits in bed and explains the film series to anyone who asks. I could have sworn the half-fly thing was a big secret. I find all of the police activity in the film hard to believe.

I also find it hard to believe that there wasn’t a single oriental actress in Hollywood who could have played the small supporting role of Wan, the loyal servant. It’s distracting having this white girl pretend she’s from 1920s film China.

Curse of the Fly is a poorly executed 1950s holdover that has some interesting moments and one well shot scene.

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Mad Scientists, Mad Scientists, Reviews Tagged with: Two Reels

Othello (1965)

Oct 031965

Iago (Frank Finlay), enraged that Cassio (Derek Jacobi) has been promoted instead of himself, vows revenge upon his commander, Othello the Moor (Laurence Olivier), as well as Cassio. Othello has recently married the beautiful, young Desdemona (Maggie Smith), much to the regret of the foolish Roderigo (Robert Lang), who wanted her for himself. Iago and Roderigo stir up the racial prejudice of Desdemona’s father, but the Duke sides with Othello and ignore her father’s objections to the marriage. Iago moves on to his real plan, to disgrace Cassio, and than persuade Otherllo that Desdemona is unfaithful.

Director Stuart Burge translates the National Theater’s stage version of Othello for the screen as if simply to make a record of Laurence Olivier’s performance. But it is not just a film of a play. The sets have been massively enlarged, though they are barren and artificial. The camera does not sit in the audience, but moves with the actors. It is a fine halfway between the two worlds. Unfortunately, the actors edge closer to the theater, yelling when they should speak and rolling on the floor when a subtle movement would be more effective. Olivier is the worst offender, always broader than necessarily, and making no allowance for the camera.

But even with such imperfections, it is a notch above any staged version I’ve ever seen. I fear this says more about the general inability to put on a competent production of Othello than it does about this movie. Certainly Finlay helps the enterprise with a calm and engaging Iago.

However, it is impossible to get swept away as long as the star is covered in bootblack. Just as Romeo and Juliet must be youths, Othello must be racially black; sticking pigtails on a fifty-year-old woman will no more make her an innocent thirteen-year-old than paint and a fake accent will turn a platinum blond Brit into a Moor. It couldn’t have been more distracting if Olivier had played the part with a big red ball on his nose.

Othello is a problematic play and never one of my favorites, and this film does nothing to correct its basic faults. It is a story of complete idiots; no one ever shows any sign of even minimal thought. Iago’s plot is comically simple, the sort of ‘knavery” that would be more suited for one of Shakespeare’s comedies. How can he possibly expect not to be caught? Cassio is a horrible officer to be so easily tripped up and his drinking problem is laughable (though not in any sense that is actually amusing). Desdemona is mindless and chatters on and on about Cassio even when it is obviously upsetting Othello. Sure, she’s an innocent girl, but she ought to be able to catch on when her lord reacts violently to her unending badgering, at least enough to shut up for a while. And, Othello’s “tragic flaw” is not jealousy, but believing whatever he’s told. How could he ever have won a battle? Scholars point to Elizabethan prejudices to explain some of the problems, but that only accounts for Othello himself, and is of little help in enjoying the play. A director must be exceptionally clever, with his own artistic edge, to make Othello work. Burge just flops it out in front of us and hopes that it swims.

Reviews, Shakespeare Tagged with: Two Reels

Godzilla vs. Monster Zero (1965)

Oct 021965

Astronauts Fuji (Akira Takarada) and Glenn (Nick Adams), from the World Space Authority, land on the mysterious Planet X that lies just beyond Jupiter. The inhabitants are plagued by the giant monster Ghidrah (known there as Monster Zero) and ask to borrow Godzilla and Rodan to fight him. But really, they plan to take over the Earth using their advanced weapons and the monsters. It is up to the astronauts and Fuji’s sister’s inventor boyfriend to free the monsters from alien control and fend off the invasion.

Godzilla vs. Monster Zero took the Godzilla series in a new direction, one that was often repeated in plot, though not in tone. A close kin to The Green Slime and direct descendent of Flash Gordon, it is much more of a space opera than a giant monster movie. The timeframe is uncertain—Godzilla movies had always been set in the present, but in this one, Earth has space ships that can take a crew past Jupiter quickly and repeatedly. The monsters are almost an after thought, and could easily be removed and replaced by any futuristic weapon.

More than the timeframe is out of whack. Nothing makes sense. The science has little to do with…well, science. There are bizarre devices (a radar thermometer), nonsensical directions in space, incorrect chemical designations (not for something complicated, but for water), and ridiculous astronomy. The engineering is worse (“Hey, let’s build a completely new super weapon and have it ready to go tomorrow”), and no one takes any action that follows from thought or even emotion. The Planet X dudes ask permission to grab the giant monsters, and then go through an elaborate ruse of using them to defeat Ghidrah, when all they needed to do was attack Earth. After demonstrating that they are keen on killing large numbers of humans, they keep alive the one person who could hurt them. Glenn finds the alien commander in his bedroom in the middle of the night, and his only reaction is to ask his girlfriend about it. If I found the leader of Bulgaria rummaging through my bookshelves at 3:00am, I’d make sure someone knew about it.

A Japanese/American co-production, minor U.S. star Nick Adams speaks English throughout and is dubbed for the Japanese release. The rest of the cast speak Japanese and are dubbed for the American release. It’s amusing watching the characters’ lips in any conversation that involves Adams since it is obvious they are speaking different languages.

Actually, watching Nick Adams at any time is amusing, as he over acts in ways previously unseen in Godzilla movies, which is saying something substantial. This is junior high theater-level acting. However, somehow that doesn’t hurt the movie. We’re too deep into camp. All the outlandish performances, shoddy spacecraft, and over-the-top action just makes it more fun. That is, with the exception of Godzilla dancing a jig and pretending to box (we’ve left camp and entered moronic). Fans of Mars Attacks will get a laugh from the sound that causes the alien ships to wobble.

Footage is reused from previous movies, but it doesn’t harm anything, and is only noticeable if you already know it’s there. Godzilla looks worse than in his previous five outings. His appearance had been tweaked to make him friendlier. Did anyone need a friendly Godzilla? Ghidrah has been changed as well, but more in strength and behavior. This is a much wimpier critter than in the previous year’s Ghidrah, the Three-Headed Monster.

Godzilla vs. Monster Zero was the last fun Godzilla movie for quite some time. Fans would find few high moments until the mid-eighties when the big guy got to be nasty again. In 1965, what had once been a force of nature was more than half way through his metamorphoses into the protector of Japan and friend of children.

Aliens, Foreign Language, Godzilla, Reviews Tagged with: Two Reels

It Happened Here (1965)

May 231965

The German’s defeated England in 1940. In 1944, a majority of the German troops were removed to bulk up the Russian front, leaving SS members and British collaborators in control of the country at a time when the resistance movement was becoming more active. Paulina (Pauline Murray), an Irish war-widowed nurse, is evacuated from her village, during which her acquaintances are killed in the crossfire between Germans and partisans. In London, she wishes to avoid politics of any kind, but joins the Immediate Action Organization (the civilian wing of the British Union of Fascists) as it is the only way she can work. While she is indoctrinated at work, in the evenings she reconnects with old friends who have not given up.

A 1965 alt-history film! Damn. Tales of “What if the Nazi’s had done this instead of what they did” may be familiar now, but not so in the ‘60s, or late ’50s when production began. Nor was it common to present evil without heroes launching into soliloquies on how it is, indeed, evil. People were upset upon first viewings of It Happened Here, some claiming it was pro-Nazi because there wasn’t some clean cut hero ready with a cutting remark whenever a fascist spoke. It’s inconceivable to me how anyone could watch this and not find it a powerful anti-fascist statement.

What really bothered Brits in 1965 was that it claimed that the English weren’t special and that some could have been collaborators in different circumstances. Instead It Happened Here suggests that people are weak, and that a disease like fascism can take root anywhere. Distributors got cold feet and what distribution it got was in a cut form, though thankfully it’s whole now.

Director Andrew Mollo was 18 when he started work on the film; co-director Kevin Brownlow was 16. With an ultralow budget supposedly around 20,000 pounds, they worked on it for 8 years, mostly with amateur volunteers. Stanley Kubrick gave them extra film stock from Dr. Strangelove so they could finish it. The movie’s sound is a bit dodgy early on, and Mollo and Brownlow improved their filmmaking skills over the long course of production, so that later scenes are filmed with more finesse.

I’m not sure more experienced filmmakers could have made this film. They wouldn’t have tried. Shot with a newsreel/documentary feel (that confused some viewers into thinking that there was reused war footage), it has an uncomfortable sense of realism. There’s no “what if” distance, but instead it is easy to get lost in it, and the easy slide into the horrors of The 3rd Reich that it depicts.

The film is filled with chilling moments: the propaganda short at a theater pointing out the evils of Jew and Bolsheviks, a group discussion over tea that includes the importance of genocide, a torchlight rally, and the hidden murders. The background moments have as strong a kick as the foreground ones: children practicing goose-stepping, English women flirting with Nazis, SS members riding a double-decker bus with a British march playing. It’s fantastic world building.

Pauline is a sympathetic and exasperating main character. She opposed to the Nazis and all they stand for. But she sees no difference between them and those fighting them. She just wants to do her job, helping people as a nurse. “We did lose the war,” she says, and now she wants things to get back to normal, or as close as can be. She thinks she can ignore the rest. Of course it doesn’t work that way. Which makes the movie not only about how things might have been, but about how things are now, and how everything can go horribly wrong so easily.

Mollo went on to become a technical consultant on bigger films, and costume designer for Star Wars. Brownlow became a film historian and documentary filmmaker. And cinematographer Peter Suschitzky’s multiple credits include The Rocky Horror Picture Show and The Empire Strikes Back.

Dystopia, Reviews, Science Fiction Tagged with: Four Reels

Gamera The Giant Monster (1965)

Apr 201965

Zoology professor Oshima, his assistant, and a photographer are carrying out research connected to legendary giant turtles in the arctic when aerial combat causes a plane to crash, setting off its nuclear payload and waking Gamera. The giant turtle kills everyone on a ship and then heads off to find energy to consume. In Japan, a disturbed child with a turtle fixation is out by the seashore dwelling on his turtle when Gamera shows up. The dimwitted kid decides Gamera is actually his pet enlarged and decides to get in the way whenever possible. Oshima must come up with a plan to stop Gamera.

While created to compete with Godzilla, the first Gamera film is more like Godzilla’s predecessor, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms. Again, the monster isn’t mutated due to radiation, but has been asleep for eons in ice. Human folly is only involved in waking him, with explosives. Our heroic human trio work closely with the military and everyone just trusts and believes everyone else until they come up with a scientific/military solution. Any theme dealing with the dangers of nuclear weapons are kept vague and in the background. This is a monster/adventure yarn, and nothing more.

The only real difference in structure is the addition of the child, who has no affect on anything. He’s obnoxious and wastes a lot of time. The only thing worse than the child is how he is treated. No one punishes him or confines him as he places himself and others in danger. They let him hang about in the middle of military operations and just hug him. I thought the Japanese were supposed to be strict.
Gamera The Giant Monster isn’t a bad film when compared to other daikaiju flicks, nor terribly good. Its major problem is there is no reason to see it beyond needing to see one Gamera movie, and there’s a better choice. The film is too much like twenty other giant monster films, all of them better. The FX are weak, but not far below the average for the time (or perhaps a decade earlier as Gamera the Giant Monster is more like something released in 1955, including being in B&W). The acting, generally, is slightly better than in similar films. The failure in that area is in the non-Japanese language bits (which was also true of Toho’s films). Apparently there were no passable American actors in Japan, and the director had no idea what the White guys were saying.

Like Gojira’s first film, Gamera The Giant Monster wasn’t just dubbed for the US market. New scenes were shot on the cheep to put more Americans in the film, and as with Godzilla King of the Monsters, the added characters do little and have almost no interaction with the Japanese characters. The result was titled Gamera The Invincible. On the positive side, there is a slight reduction in scenes with the annoying child, and the replacement American military base scenes at the beginning have substantially less embarrassing acting. The major additions are a pointless TV interview segment where Americans debate if Gamera exists, and Broderick Crawford as a general sitting around with other White guys and talking. Some of these info dumps replace ones in the original while others do nothing. Crawford was always a limited actor and he only showed up for the paycheck. He doesn’t appear to know his lines. The American version also adds a Gamera theme song. The Japanese version is better, but neither are great and it doesn’t make a lot of difference which you see if you put in the effort to see either.

Foreign Language, Giant Monsters, Reviews Tagged with: Two Reels

Gamera “Showa” films

Apr 201965

Gamera The Giant Monster (1965)
Gamera vs. Barugon (1966)
Gamera vs. Gyaos (1967)
Gamera vs. Viras (1968)
Gamera vs. Guiron (1969)
Gamera vs. Jiger (1970)
Gamera vs. Zigra (1971)
Gamera Super Monster (1980)

Gamera was Daiei studio’s attempt to compete with Toho’s Godzilla and he was reasonably successful in a financial sense, with eight “Showa” films (1965-1980) before mismanagement bankrupted the studio. He was rebooted in three far superior “Heisei” films (reviewed here) and was rebooted yet again in 2006 for a single film. Gemera is a prehistoric giant turtle, freed from the ice due to an atomic explosion. He eats (and sometimes breaths) fire and can fly, appearing as a saucer.

Gamera started with a disadvantage: His only purpose was to sell tickets. There was no artistic focus to go with the commercial one. There was no theme the filmmakers wanted to get across. That just leaves empty films filled with big monster fights, and to pull that off, you need to be very good at constructing that action. But no one was. The Gamera films were cheaper than the Godzilla ones, with no FX experts to overcome that deficit. Nor was there a genius like composer Akira Ifukube involved to give the series an extra kick; even the worst Godzilla movie had the advantage of his memorable musical themes.

The Gamera films were always kid-oriented, but after the first few movies, they dove hard into this aspect. The turtle changed quickly from a fearsome monster to a friend of children. Kids (known as “Kennys,” though not always with the overly tight pants that define them in other Japanese films) became the main human characters and the films developed a pattern. Some monster would appear to threaten the Earth and Gamera, hero and friend to children, would pop up to fight it, but would be sidelined early. Then two prepubescent boys, often with a sister who would be left behind to deal with the adults, would go on a series of adventures, often including an exotic vehicle (mini-subs and spacecraft were used repeatedly). These children would be allowed into the highest corridors of power and would have all the right answers while the adults flailed. Finally Gamera would return to defeat some poorly constructed monster. To aid sales in the US, one child was Caucasian—apparently American.

Even for children, the Gamera films have little to offer. I don’t know how they succeeded in Japan, but kids around me back in the ‘60s found them embarrassing. They spoke down to children. And what child wants to watch a kid on screen instead of a monster? If there’s one thing I remember from childhood it is that monsters were cool; kids yelling “Gamera” over and over were not. This was filmmaking for children by people who didn’t think much of children.

It would take a reboot of the series in the ‘90s for Gamera to finally come into his own and be real competition for the giant lizard.

Gamera The Giant Monster (1965)

Zoology professor Oshima, his assistant, and a photographer are carrying out research connected to legendary giant turtles in the arctic when aerial combat causes a plane to crash, setting off its nuclear payload and waking Gamera. The giant turtle kills everyone on a ship and then heads off to find energy to consume. In Japan, a disturbed child with a turtle fixation is out by the seashore dwelling on his turtle when Gamera shows up. The dimwitted kid decides Gamera is actually his pet enlarged and decides to get in the way whenever possible. Oshima must come up with a plan to stop Gamera.

Gamera The Giant Monster isn’t a bad film when compared to other daikaiju flicks, nor terribly good. Its major problem is there is no reason to see it beyond needing to see one Gamera movie, and there’s a better choice. The film is too much like twenty other giant monster films, all of them better. The FX are weak, but not far below the average for the time (or perhaps a decade earlier as Gamera the Giant Monster is more like something released in 1955, including being in B&W). The acting, generally, is slightly better than in similar films. The failure in that area is in the non-Japanese language bits (which was also true of Toho’s films). Apparently there were no passable American actors in Japan, and the director had no idea what the White guys were saying.

Gamera vs. Barugon/War of the Monsters (1966)

Gamera’s rocket is struck by a meteor, returning him to earth where he vanishes from the movie for nearly an hour. Meanwhile, three men (who I think might be low level gangsters—it isn’t clear) head to New Guinea to recover an opal that our more-or-less hero’s brother hid during WWII. The opal is not a stone, but an egg, which hatches Barugon who grows into a giant monster and attacks Japan.

In a series that drifted more and more childish with each new film, the second Gamera movie fouled up that curve by being substantially less goofy than its predecessor, in large part because it is the only Gamera Showa film without a child as a major character. Rumors claim that the island dancing girls were initially planned to be topless, and several scenes, while innocent (depending on what you think about blood licking), are suggestive of oral sex. The end product is juvenile, just much less juvenile than the rest of the franchise. You can only be so mature with a monster that shoots rainbows and is a guy crawling around on all fours.

The film is odd in another way—it is hardly a Gamera movie and I suspect the original script didn’t contain him. Gamera has only a few minutes of screen time, in re-used footage at the beginning, a brief battle two-thirds in, and then a final brawl, and he has nothing to do with the rest of the story. If you made one of the military plans more successful, you could have written him out.

The two leads, Keisuke the fortune-hunter and Kara (always subtitled as Karen) the island girl, are handled unusually well. They don’t do much, but Keisuke isn’t embarrassing—which is very rare for a human in a Gamera movie) and Kara is captivating. She’s portrayed by Kyoko Enami, one of the great beauties of Japanese cinema.

The giant monster fights are silly, but no more silly than in other daikaiju flicks of the time, and a good deal less than Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster and Son of Godzilla which came out within a year.

While you can now find an English subtitled version of Gamera vs Barugon, it was originally released in the US in a cut and dubbed form as War of the Monsters. Twelve minutes were cut, all of which involved the leads discussing plans with the military. Their loss makes the film more nonsensical (where did that giant diamond come from and why are they suddenly in a helicopter?) but doesn’t do substantial damage. And the dubbing is surprisingly good.

My rating is a bit high, but any daikaiju fan should see one of the early Gamera films, and the rating indicates that this is the one.

Gamera vs. Gyaos (1967)

A volcanic eruption serves the dual purpose of calling Gamera and waking Gyaos, an ancient flying lizard-bat that shoots sonic beams. Nearby, a greedy firm is trying to build an expressway through a village of equally greedy people. The prepubescent grandson of the village elder is obsessed by Gamera and makes friends with him. It is up to the child, the expressway supervisor, and some scientists to stop Gyaos.

Following the lead of Godzilla films of the time, Gamera vs Gyaos aims for a younger audience. Giant monster movies tend to be aimed toward the young, but we are talking single digits here. Four to six-year-olds are the audience. Show this to a ten-year-old and he’ll be embarrassed. The monsters are now filmed to expose every weakness in the special effects and they are weak. The Gyaos costume is bargain-basement and Gamera doesn’t look any better. The attempts to place a human in the same frame as a monster—which comes up often as both monsters lift the child—come off as failed Styrofoam homecoming floats. But then this is a film where a kid rides on the giant turtle’s back and road inspectors and children can wonder into government briefings, so no one was terribly worried about not being embarrassing.

Gamera is a straight-up hero now—this change is never explained. He never harms people or property, and shows up just to stop Gyaos. He’s become a big puppy, listening to the call of his master, the Kenny. And that kid never shuts up. There are ten solid minutes of the child yelling “Gamera!”

With so much time spent with the Kenny, and in meetings, there’s no time for the characters (and no money for the cheap-ass fights). After the kid, the lead is probably supposed to be the road superintendent, but he gets to do nothing. They don’t even bother with the semi-romance with the Kenny’s sister (so why is she in the film?), but then romance doesn’t fit in a film for a sex-year-old.

It all ends in a peppy Gamera song, in case you needed a statement that this film is just a string of bad discussions.

Gamera vs. Viras (1968)

Gamera is just wandering around in outer space, which is something he does now, when he runs into hostile aliens in a collection of beach balls. He destroys the balls after they have radioed home for reinforcements. On Earth, two Kennys, one Japanese and one American, are at some kind of international boy scout camp. They play some pranks, cause some problems, and manage to go on a submarine journey with Gamera. The new alien ship arrives and capture the two kids to use as hostages because Gamera would never do anything to harm children. It is up to the two young boys to save the day and have an exciting adventure.

While Gamera vs. Gyaos was a generic dikaiju movie adjusted to be for young children, Gamera vs. Viras is a children’s movie with monsters. There are hardly any adults and they exist to be the butt of the children’s pranks. This is all bright shiny colors as we follow our two child-leads as they explore a space ship, control a giant monster, and save the world. This is where the line “Gamera is a friend to all children” came from. We even have the entire world declare that we must surrender because we can’t allow the two boys to be hurt, which lets them bravely state that they would sacrifice themselves. Of course this is Japanese children’s programming, so they say “shit” and five guys are decapitated.

Cheap is the word of the day. There’s extensive use of past footage. At the twenty-one minute point, the film pauses for a ten minute recap of the previous films. Oddly, the recap is nearly twice as long in the American version, titled Destroy All Planets—bringing this overly short film up to 90 minutes. Gamera’s attack on a dam and on a city are re-used scenes from earlier films. Even the new footage is used repeatedly, with Gamera’s attack on the second ship filled out with a clip from his attack on the first. And much of the film is the kids’ exploration of the spaceship, which is one set re-colored as they supposedly enter the next look-alike room.

Is this worse than the previous entry? That depends. For anyone over ten who isn’t watching to make fun of it, then yes. But for your young child, or for your drunken party when you want to throw cheese puffs at the screen, Gamera vs. Viras will work better.

Gamera vs. Guiron (1969)

Two school boys discover a spaceship which takes off when they get in, leaving a sister behind to fail to convince the adults what’s happened. The ship is almost hit by a meteor, but Gamera, who was perusing space for lost children, saves the day. But the mighty turtle can’t keep up with the spaceship, which lands on Terra, a planet on the other side of the Sun from Earth. Terra is under constant attacks from space gyaoses, which the only two survivors of this alien world fend off with Guiron, a quadrupedal shark with a knife for a head. They plan to eat the children and travel to Earth, but finally Gamera arrives.

Gamera vs. Guiron is much like the previous film, Gamera vs. Viras. Again we have two kids (one Japanese, one American) in space. It’s much more a kids adventure film than a daikaiju flick. There’s no city crunching here. The two kids wonder around the new and exciting planet and comment to each other about the things they see and what they will do next. This is a movie where kids with a dart gun are as effective as super-technological aliens. Adults, not counting aliens, are hardly in the film and are useless (and manage to be more annoying than the children).

And again, it is really cheap. There’s plenty of reused footage to save money (they don’t even bother tinting the scene from the B&W Gamera The Giant Monster). The planet is made up of a few small sets with a few simple miniatures, and obvious map paintings. In one scene rocks come crashing down and you can see the Styrofoam bounce off the children. Guiron is a ghastly looking monster that didn’t push the budget.

On the bright-side, the two alien chicks are quite cute and wear spangly outfits with capes. That’s as sexy as a Gamera movie gets.

Be ready for multiple renditions of the Gamera song. The film ends with the moral: We shouldn’t dream of other planets, but make this one free of “wars and traffic accidents.”

Gamera vs. Jiger (1970)

After an extensive lesson on the World’s fair, we switch to Wester Island (yes, I said “Wester”) where Gamera attempts to interfere with the movement of a giant statue to the fair. Soon after, the monster Jiger rises from the local volcano and quickly incapacitates our superhero turtle. It will take two children, one Japanese, one American, to save the day by taking a mini-sub into Gamera’s body.

Japan was hosting the 1970 Worlds Fair and the nation was displaying a great deal of pride—or maybe they just wanted to sell tickets. World’s fairs used to be a big deal, a place to showcase technological advancements. So they made a Gamera movie about the fair, which is quite odd as the film repeatedly denigrates science in favor of superstition: If everyone just believed in curses likes they should, things would be fine. Though people are dying and the city is being destroyed, the first concern of the Government is non-ironically stopping any disruption of the fair. The World’s fair was really important.

Jiger is a unconvincing monster, which was true of all the quadruped daikaiju. He shoots a destructo ray from his back and darts from his horns. Daiei never had much skill in coming up with monsters, with Gyoas being the least ridiculous, and even he was built poorly. Jiger is average for a rotten bunch.

The monster fights, like in Godzilla before it, had become sillier. Gamera grabs a pipe to block the darts. They toss rocks back and forth, and Gamera uses phone poles to plug his ears.

I’ve no doubt that the trip inside Gamera was pitched to be like Fantastic Voyage, but it is just a few kids running around in a blanket-covered set. And don’t think about the size of things as Gamera would have to be a hundred times bigger for this to even pretend to be to scale.

Gamera vs Zigra (1971)

Two children—this time a boy and a girl, who are younger than in previous films—are kidnapped along with their astoundingly stupid fathers by aliens who plan to takeover the world with their earthquake machine and then live in the oceans. The kids outsmart the alien woman and return to Earth. Will Gamera defeat the aliens? Will the kids be crucial in reviving Gamera? Will this be the dumbest movie in the franchise? All will be revealed, unfortunately.

While the previous four films had been juvenile and primitive, this one is those things topped with being frustrating. It goes on and on with the spacegirl chasing our too-young-for-film children. They go down corridors, in and out of doors, down more corridors, up some stairs, across the plaza, etc. But then no one was even pretending to try in this production. This was the last of the regular Showa films. The company was in shambles and no one had any ideas. The alien spaceship is a gumball machine and the evil monster is a stiff-looking model shark. Much of the third act is a dozen people huddled together around a screen in a very small room. What very little monster action we get is not worth seeing. At least Gamera trying to sneak up on the sleeping shark should have been funny, but it isn’t. Partly that’s because Gamera vs Zigra wants to be taken seriously and pretend that the children are in real danger. Plus it dumps a theme on top: Pollution is bad. Pollution was becoming a popular subject for Japanese monster movies and this was Gamera’s ham-fisted shot at the theme. It works as well as everything else in the film.

Outside of the cute spacegirl who puts on a bikini, and Gamera playing his theme song with a rock on the shark’s back like a xylophone, Gamera vs Zigra doesn’t even work at a drunken party. Choose a different one and let this be forgotten.

Gamera: Super Monster (1980)

The alien Zenon have come to invade Earth in a star destroyer they stole from Star Wars. Luckily the Earth is defended by three female super heroes. Unluckily, they have no weapons or useful strengths and if they transform into their outfits, they will be shot from space. The Zenon’s plan is to set loose a bunch of monsters that happen to be the one in previous Gamera movies. Of course Gamera shows up to defeat the monsters just as he did before. Also hanging around to use up time is a kid who plays the Gamera march on the organ and seems to have a pointless connection to Gamera and an evil Zenon lady who isn’t quite up to the task of dealing with a child.

Daiei was dead, its assets bought by another company, which decided it wanted a Gamera movie, though they didn’t want to pay much. They weren’t even a film company, but figured they could make something back on their investment. The old contracts were still in force, so the filmmakers had no choice. And it turns out a giant monster movie is pretty cheap if you don’t film giant monsters. So they edited together clips from the previous films and shot a minimum amount of new footage, mainly dealing with humans in everyday environments, and they had their film.

The actions of the humans (and space women) have nothing to do with the monsters’s actions. People in the streets don’t act like the country is under attack (I’m guessing many weren’t aware they were in a film). There’s no attempt to make the pieces fit together. The evil lady wants to kill the superhero women because they are somehow on Gamera’s team, except they aren’t in any way. They just watch him on their home video screen. The voice from the space ship keeps threatening the evil girl when Gamera wins due to her failure, except she’s not in charge of the battles with Gamera—she came down to get the three superheroes. Gamera: Super Monster is just some nonsensical new clips stuck between old footage.

Is this worse than the abysmal Gemera vs Zigra? As a movie, yes, much worse, as it barely qualifies as a film. However, if all you want is a way to catch up on the bad Gamera movies, perhaps for your geek trivia contest, without having to watch those films, then this serves a purpose.

And that’s Gamera’s early years: eight films, six of them to be avoided unless you are four years old or very drunk. Fifteen years later he would be revived in a series of films worth your time.

Foreign Language, Giant Monsters

Chimes at Midnight (1965)

Feb 191965

Sir John Falstaff (Orson Welles) carouses with Prince Hal (Keith Baxter) and several unscrupulous characters, often in the bawdy house of Mistress Quickly (Margaret Rutherford), much to the displeasure of King Henry IV (John Gielgud). However a civil war and the king’s failing health will change the prince and his relationship with Falstaff.

The idea is brilliant: knitting together the Falstaff material from Henry IV Parts 1 & 2, with bits from Henry V, The Merry Wives of Windsor, and Richard II, and using only Shakespeare’s lines except for the narration from Holinshed’s Chronicles. Falstaff is the most memorable (and popular) character from the Henry IV plays, so why not tell his story? In 1965, the now corpulent Welles was an obvious choice for the lead, and with his cinematic eye and command of language, him being director and “writer” (knitter of lines) is nearly as fitting. And the film does look beautiful.

But this is Welles, whose refusal to compromise left all his works compromised. In Chimes At Midnight that meant he didn’t have the money to finish the film properly, or shoot it all at once, or with all English speaking actors. He picked up shots when he could, often with imperfect doubles and had to adjust the framing to hide imperfections. He dubbed many of the voices himself. All of which weakens the film from what might have been, but turn out to be minor flaws.

But there’s a major flaw. The choices of what to keep and what to cut left the fellowship moments of Henry IV Part 1 out, so we never see the camaraderie amongst the gang. There’s no friendship, and certainly no love. Falstaff doesn’t even seem fond of Hal, and Hal is only contemptuous of Falstaff. Yes, that needs to be there, but there needs to be some bond between these characters. Falstaff suffers for it, but Hal suffers more, becoming completely unlikable. The “jokes” they play on each other seem like little fun, and that’s the point as Hal grows away from Falstaff to become a king in spirit, but he had to be close to move away. Hal seems cruel and obnoxious instead of young and foolish. It made me care little about Falstaff, and wish Hotspur had run Hal through.

And the cutting isn’t severer enough in other places. This is Falstaff’s story, and we should have kept with him. I like the scenes with Hotspur, but except for the final duel, have nothing to do with Falstaff. Likewise, most of what goes on at the castle is outside of Falstaff’s world.

There’s enough good here, mainly in art design and line readings, to make this worth watching, but it should have been better.

Reviews, Shakespeare Tagged with: Two & 1/2 Reels

The Curse of the Mummy’s Tomb (1964)

Nov 071964

The tomb of Prince Ra is opened by a group of scholarly archeologists, who are treated none too well by the locals for their efforts. But then the contents of the tomb are treated far worse when their greedy American benefactor (Fred Clark) shows up with plans to exhibit the remains of the prince, side-show style. Soon the mummy is up, destroying those who entered the tomb. But something even more mysterious is going on and someone has a secret, but is it disgraced drunken archeologist Sir Giles Dalrymple (Jack Gwillim), beautiful and French-for-no-reason Annette DuBois (Jeanne Roland), rich and handsome amateur Egyptologist, Adam Beauchamp (Terence Morgan), or the disapproving Egyptian Hashmi Bey (George Pastell)? It is up to John Bray (Ronald Howard) to discover what is truly happening, before the mummy finishes him.

The second of Hammer studio’s mummy cycle, and unrelated to the others, The Curse of the Mummy’s Tomb is a surprisingly clever film, trotting out all the mummy clichés, and then smashing them into dust. The characters are all presented as the cardboard cutouts we’ve learned to expect in mummy films, and then shown to be completely different. The normal bad guys are noble, the heartless fool isn’t either heartless or a fool, and the wise man is less than wise. OK, Miss DuBois is nothing but a pair of breasts on legs, but otherwise the characters are complicated, with conflicting desires. The plot appears to follow the over-tried and true formula, but again, shatters expectations. It isn’t about a mummy squashing folks for entering a tomb. Yes, there is a splatter or two, but The Curse of the Mummy’s Tomb isn’t a typical horror film, but a suspense/mystery, with a mummy tossed it. People looking for the same old Hammer Horror flick, or just another mummy pic will be (and have been) disappointed that the focus isn’t non-stop monster mayhem. Everyone else will be pleased to find something more.

The cast also helps to elevate The Curse of the Mummy’s Tomb from its B/C-movie roots. Ronald Howard lends an air of sophistication to a role that could have been annoying in the hands of a younger actor. Gwillim, Morgan, and Bey all supply solid support, while Clark steals the show. Fred Clark was a top notch comic character actor, and he’s in full, fast-talking quip mode, making obnoxious American showman Alexander King likeable as well as supplying energy to the non-bloody portion of the film. Only Jeanne Roland drags down the proceedings, but as she is around for fully-covered eye candy, and she is quite attractive, she can be forgiven.

Like 1959’s The Mummy, the clear cinematography and lush colors are not always a plus. The Egyptian sets look as cheap as they no doubt were. It is a bit less glaring than in the other Hammer Horror films, due to little time being spent in fake desserts, but it is a relief when the story swings away from an Egypt that looks like a diorama.

The Curse of the Mummy’s Tomb isn’t going to end up on any list of ten best horror films, unless that list is trimmed to only include dead guys in bandages (in which case…well..it will be as there are not a lot of shiny mummy movies). Its wit and deviation from the norm make it not only Hammer’s finest mummy pic, but an entertaining way to spend an afternoon.

Hammer’s “Mummy cycle” includes The Mummy (1959), The Mummy’s Shroud (1967), and Blood From the Mummy’s Tomb (1971).

Mummies, Reviews Tagged with: Three Reels

Ghidrah, the Three Headed Monster (1964)

Nov 021964

A Princess goes missing after an assassination attempt, and turns up in Japan, claiming to be a 5000 year old prophetess from outer space (Venus in the subtitled version, Mars in the dubbed). She predicts that Rodan will rise from a volcano, Godzilla will destroy a ship, and a space monster named King Ghidrah will destroy the planet. With assassins hot on the princess’s tail, and a reporter and her policeman brother aiding her, the princess/prophetess saves two fairies, who summon Mothra to attempt to persuade Godzilla and Rodan to join forces against the new monster.

It’s all about Ghidrah. By any standard inherent in twelve-year-old-boys, and any of us who remember being twelve-year-old-boys, Ghidrah is cool. He’s a three headed, winged, golden dragon that lays waste to everything with bolts of electricity (supposedly gravity waves, but nothing in the film indicates that). Ghidrah is all the destruction that an giant-monster-action movie should be about.

As for the rest, well, it is barely palatable, and only because there’s always Ghidrah in the wings. The plot is a collection of loosely related events that happen for no particular reason. Godzilla returns, because he does. Rodan wakes out of his long sleep at the same moment, without explanation. A princess somehow activates an innate human survival trait of channeling dead Venusians and the Venusian happens to be an expert on King Ghidrah, which is handy as a meteor falls to Earth that either contains Ghidrah or generates him (it’s not clear which). The fairy priestess from Infant Island (also call Easter Island in one poorly subtitled moment) have chosen this time to completely sellout their heritage and appear on a cheap pop TV show, so they can call Mothra. (There’ss only one Mothra grub now even though there were two at the end of the previous movie. Do you think one ate the other?) The coincidences keep happening, with everyone, human and monster, running into each other far more frequently than even Lotto players could accept. Other things happen or are mentioned that are just strange and irrelevant: the meteor is intermittently magnetic; a doctor decides to carry out a complicated procedure while giant monsters are fighting outside his door (of course, this is a doctor who says that his “complete exams” could hurt the princess—which makes him really creepy).

Does all that harm the film? It doesn’t help it. But what really is damaging is the amount of time spent on the nonsensical human plot. This is a Godzilla movie. If there’s going to be nonsense, it should involve a guy in a rubber suit. The princess/cop/assassin/reporter storyline goes on and on, without ever being engaging. It fills time. A lot of time.

That just leaves the monster battles. That is the reason for the film, and Ghidrah comes through like a pro. But the other monsters don’t do so well. Godzilla, Rodan, and Mothra all look like shaved rejects from a sub par Muppet movie. The eyes and necks are (for Godzilla and Rodan; Mothra looks bad in every way) painful to watch and there are far too many close ups of these offending areas. The fight between Godzilla and Rodan involves rock volleyball and a lot of kicking. It departs from anything exciting, sidesteps funny, and drops squarely into silly. The big four-way climax is better, but still involves too many tossed rocks and too much failed humor aimed at kids.

Ghidrah, the Three Headed Monster is entertaining, but it also signals real problems for the Godzilla series. Terror and theme had vanished after the first film and now excitement was going as well. The series was being remade for children, by adults who didn’t understand what kids enjoy. Godzilla vs. Mothra was an excellent children’s movie. There was no need in this film to make the monsters laugh, and chat (yes, they have a long chat, translated from monsterese by the fairies). Ghidrah gives the film just enough of a “cool” factor to make it all work. But there’s no getting around that it is entertaining. Dumb? Absolutely. A good time? Also absolutely. If you don’t like Godzilla films, or like anyone after the first, then this isn’t going to work for you. But if you are OK with some of the silliness, then this is one of the better films in the series.

The film is also known as Ghidorah, the Three Headed Monster and in later films, Ghidrah is more often called Ghidorah.

Foreign Language, Godzilla, Reviews Tagged with: Three Reels

Santa Claus Conquers the Martians (1964)

Oct 081964

Martians come to Earth to kidnap Santa Claus because their children are morose. They plan to set him up in a toy shop on Mars, but one Martian rebels, and it is up to Santa Claus and some children to put things right.

Quick Review: I first saw Santa Claus Conquers the Martians at the height of its cult status in the early 80s. Originally made for children, it is too odd and too poorly done to work as kid’s entertainment. But those same qualities made it a natural for a midnight college showing. It had an extra draw at the time; Pia Zadora, who played a 10 year old Martian in ’64, had grown up quite well and her nude pictorials filled magazines. So, the theater was filled, and in that setting, with everyone shouting and throwing things, it was a lot of fun. But that is the only way to enjoy this primitive mess. On its own, it isn’t funny or heartwarming, just silly. But if you are planning a frat party, add a few more s.

Christmas, Reviews Tagged with: One Reel

Godzilla vs. Mothra (1964)

Oct 021964

A hurricane washes a giant egg into a Japanese bay where a greedy entrepreneur grabs it, intending it to be the centerpiece for his new theme park. Two fairy girls ask for the egg to be returned to their island as it belongs to their god, Mothra. A newspaperman, his camera woman, and a professor try and help the fairies, but to no avail. When Godzilla appears, the three appeal to the fairies to send Mothra to fight Godzilla.

The most exciting and fun-filled of the “Showa” Godzilla films (those made from ’54 to ’75) Godzilla vs. Mothra avoids the pitfalls of its predecessor, King Kong vs. Godzilla, by keeping away from juvenile slapstick and inserting a real sense of adventure and danger. While the plot has its inexplicable moments (Why doesn’t Godzilla crush the egg once Mothra is no longer an issue? Why are children on a school field trip while Godzilla is destroying the country?), the film has only one significant problem: Godzilla is fighting…well…a moth puppet and two grubs. There’s really no way around that one. I’d have thought that almost any other creature would have been an improvement as an opponent for the big green lizard, but subsequent Godzilla films demonstrated that there are a lot of monsters worse than a moth.

The human story doesn’t get in the way of the monster mayhem, with the businessmen getting their comeuppance without dragging the story to a halt as happens in so many of the series’ movies. The special effects are a slight improvement over those of the three earlier films, and Godzilla himself wouldn’t look better for another twenty years. But the real standout is the music. Akira Ifukube’s score brings both a sense of wonder and epic grandeur to what is essentially a guy in a Halloween costume kicking at some marionettes. The right music can transform a picture, and this is certainly the right music.

The American release does little to muck up the works. The dubbing is reasonable (hey, it’s dubbing. It’s not going to be brilliant), and little is cut. The only moment I noticed was missing was a character being shot in the head (you still see the guy pulling the trigger, but then skip to the victim on the floor). There’s an added scene of U.S. ships firing missiles at Godzilla that neither helps nor harms the picture. The one oddity is the title, changed to Godzilla vs. The Thing. The marketing campaign kept Godzilla’s adversary a secret, slapping a tentacled question mark on the posters. I guess a big moth was a hard sell. While the title is now generally Godzilla vs. Mothra even in the U.S., the dub has characters often referring to the big bug as “The Thing,” which comes off as rude. Didn’t their mothers ever tell them to be polite to other people’s gods?

My rating is a bit high. Standing by itself, three reels is a better indicator of its quality, but everyone should see at least one of the fun, adventure-filled, rock’em sock’em Godzilla films, and this is the one.

Foreign Language, Godzilla, Reviews Tagged with: Four Reels

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