HAPPY 70TH, GODZILLA

It was 70 years ago (November 3, 1954) that the original Godzilla (Gojira) premiered in Japan. (The popular, Raymond Burr recut, King of the Monsters, would premiere two years later.)

Godzilla is, in truth, a disguised remake of Eugene Lourie/Fred Freiberger/Lou Morheim's  The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (which in its own right was based on Ray Bradbury's "The Foghorn"). The concept was also inspired by King Kong (in particular, the T-Rex that fought the titular ape) and was directed by Ishiro Honda, who would become synonymous with the kaiju genre, from a script that he wrote with kaiju innovator, Takeo Murata. The movie was shot in black-and-white, which works to its brooding benefit, with Godzilla (Katsumi Tezuka) filmed in eerie slow motion to emulate a stop-motion style. (This gives Godzilla a lumbering but formidable flow, unique to this initial entry.) 

The tale's theme is  introspective, with an implication that the Titan's emergence was a karmic reply to Japan's imperious sins. This, therefore, makes Godzilla a cause-and-effect tragedy, with a push toward redemption. 

Whether one views the 1954 original or the Burr revision, Godzilla's significance can't be denied. Why not re-watch it on its landmark anniversary and rejoice in its savage roar! 

TERRIFIC TEAM-UP IMAGE: GOJIRA & NICK

 

Monster Team-up: I saw Godzilla, King of the Monsters (2019)...

The sequel to Gareth Edwards' "Godzilla '14" steals its name from the U.S. '56 edit of "Gojira", but if the truth be known, this new flick is more a quasi-remake of 1964's "Ghidrah, the Three-Headed Monster" ("Three Giant Monsters: Earth's Greatest Battle"), '65's "Monster Zero" ("Invasion of the Astro-Monster") and 69's "Destroy All Monsters" ("March of the Attacking Monsters").   

The 2019 variant comes from director Michael "Krampus" Dougherty, whose retelling, per a script co-written with Zach Shields, touches as much on sweetened, human negotiation (i.e., lots of Monarch Company hot air) as blurred-out, battling behemoths. 

There's loads of feminine overflow, as well. Though that's not altogether displeasing, it too often distracts from its colossal beasts, more so than the humans ever dared in "Godzilla '14", where there was at least some symbolic symbiosis.  

As a '60s Toho knock-off, "King of the Monsters'" set-up is familiar, with the multi-headed terror manifesting from the celestial mist (or in this case, the ice) to zap the world to bits, as various other Titans (as they're now commonly called) join in. Godzilla, Rodan and Mothra emerge in the forefront to deal with Ghidorah, aka Monster Zero, each in his/her own way. On occasion, they get a little help from their little, human friends. Why not? The Titans and humankind play for the same team, plus or minus a philosophical discrepancy here and there.

To bring the epic to life, the CGI gets pretty heavy-handed, though is preferable to the clunky interpretations that blemished the Toho '70s run. (Some would argue that such was the case even in the '60s, but I detect enough care invested into that period's puppeteered costumes to give the economical angle a deserved pass.) On the other hand, CGI is a swift substitute for stop-motion. I do believe that Ghidorah would have benefited from a meticulous, classic approach. (Think along the lines of "Jason and the Argonaut'"s hydra.)

Rodan, in my opinion, is the most fascinating of the film's gigantic stars. Though prior Rodans were for the most part intimidating, this new one projects a formidable semblance unlike any predecessor: a nightmarish, flying demon, even if the entity's presence has virtuous potential when all is said and done. (Sad thing is, as awesome as Rodan appears in this retelling, he won't get a solo outta it; that'll go to sweetie-pie Mothra for sure. Bloody blah.)

Again, the film's drawback is its matriarchal stance and the chatty softness that coincides with it. I do dig "Stranger Things'"s Millie Bobby Brown and "Bates Motel'"s Vera Farminga, who get thrown into the focused-character gist. However, what good are competent actors if planted without purpose, or if that purpose does exist, it's for a concealed, PC (let-that-pretty-moth-rise) cause. (I must confess that I did fancy Zhang "The Grandmaster" Ziyi, who brings beauty and logic to the proceedings; it's just that there wasn't enough of her.)

Kyle "Kong '05" Chandler; Ken "Batman Begins" Wantanabe; David "The Spiderwick Chronicles" Strathairn; Thomas "Replicas" Middleditch; Bradley "The West Wing" Whiteford and Charles "Phantom of the Opera '90" Dance (looking more Peter Cushing-ish than ever before) are there for us guys to identify (and butt heads) with, but though commanding, their development is stilted by heaps of gobbledygook. That in turn hampers the film's required toughness. Playing it nice and verbose may be fine and dandy for real life, but for a movie of this cataclysmic caliber, two-fisted, bone-crushing intensity should have run high--real high--and on all subplotted levels. (For the record, the film offers one moment of moving sacrifice, a clever twist on the climax of "Godzilla '54", but it's too late in the game to make everything okay.)

If the plan was to lift from "Ghidrah/Monster Zero/Destroy", those films should have been "Godzilla '19'"s lasting foundation and not mere nods. With garrulous padding anchoring its premise, "King of the Monsters" develops like a half-baked "Rampage": the latter a superior, giant-monster rally, if only due to its shameless, building-breaking melees and brawny, get-it-done hero.

(If I may digress, I do hope that for the sake of "Godzilla vs Kong", the "Rampage" blueprint is matched. If not, I've a gnawing hunch that we could see even more babble and no-do than this time round. Hey, that's just the way things roll these donnish days.)

With that said, I don't need a giant-monster flick to help me tap into my feminine side, my diplomatic side, my side that wants to talk and talk and talk while others do the work, even if they are monsters. Sorry if that offends certain sensitive factions, but I don't think I'm alone in that view. Too bad the makers of "Godzilla '19" snubbed those of my adamant ilk. 

On the other hand, why get all flustered? To balance things out, there must be a Dwayne Johnson/Jason Statham team-up on the horizon, where the duo combats Strawberry Shortcake and Rainbow Brite in a battle to the death, right?

I saw (at long last) Shin Gojira...

Whether one calls it "Shin Godzilla/Gojira" or "Godzilla/Gojira Resurgence", our grayish green, radioactive-spewing behemoth has gotten back into the Toho Studios groove. Only thing is, I'm big-time tardy in catching his anticipated return. (These theatrical limited releases rarely come to my neck of the woods, so the best I can do is listen to the bragging of those fortunate enough to catch 'em.) Thank God for the inevitable, disc releases, and (hallelujah) "Shin Gojira" just hit the shelves this week. 

For the most part and against great odds, I was able to view the subtitled (and soon thereafter, dubbed) "Shin Gojira" without too much having been revealed. That's probably because the film doesn't have a lot to spoil, and I don't mean that in a mean way. This is basic kaiju stuff, only handled with a more sophisticated, darker flow than what we usually find in Toho sequels and reboots. 

The original "Gojira" (either the '54 version or the revamped '56 American edition) wasn't intricate or complicated in plot, either, borrowing much from "Beast From 20,000 Fathoms" (and therefore, Ray Bradbury's "The Foghorn"), with some profound, Atomic Age messaging woven in. The original "Gojira" is, for the most part, an exercise in mood, and at times, comes across as quite nightmarish: a fact that those out-of-the-loop find surprising when they finally watch it.  

Directed by Hideaki Anno (who also penned the screenplay) and Shinji Higuchi, "Shin Gojira", like its brooding, black-and-white, founder, dabbles in the dismal and the weird, but at the same time acts as another genesis for an entity who's had several.

This time (though as in times previous) we watch our admired colossus sway his creepy form through Japan, but now the mighty Gojira evolves from out various forms, at one point resembling a disquieting, redesigned Reptilicus or Giant Claw and then ultimately a thing with flesh like twisted, Zdzislaw Beksinski metal and a tail that stretches for an eternity (a most curious appendage in more ways than one, as one will discover). To give us an all the better view of neo Gojira, he's nicely illuminated throughout his transformation: so startlingly clear as to risk ridicule, but due to Anno's unpretentious presentation, our lumbering giant remains formidable and intimidating from beginning to end. 

A fine cast of performers reacts with credible trepidation to the slow, menacing, city stomping from their lofty, officious palaces: Akira Emoto; Hiroki Hasegawa; Satomi Ishihara; Kengo Kora; Ren Osugi; Takumi Saito; Yutaka Takenouchi; Pierre Taki; Jun Kunimura, among others. They play their collective role in earnest, not once deviating from their staunch stances, trying to understand all causes and effects and find the means to annihilate their unwitting attacker, whether through nuclear or other destructive tactics. (Alas, their efforts achieve no more than what the military did in "War of the Worlds '53", when daring to destroy the Martian War Machines.) 

This nervous, pessimistic tone, which often tips toward documentary staging, grants "Shin Gojira" its individuality, making it as much an atmospheric experiment as the '54 classic and in its own kaiju right, placing it on a par with such avant-garde productions as "Carnival of Souls '62"; "Daughter of Horror/Dementia"; and the ultra surreal, German/French "Vampyr". (Truly, I don't think there's ever been a giant-monster movie as visually raw, rough and pure as this one, including the off-the-cuff "Cloverfield".)

On the other hand, it wouldn't be at all surprising if some viewers perceived this installment as a retread in what's become an inexhaustible string, where our mutating titan saunters and stumbles, but with the predictable promise to rise again. Nevertheless, if one appreciates this particular kind of alpha-monster, it's impossible not to embrace the "shin" element, any more than any hardcore fan could scorn Gareth Edward's big-budget version. (I could easily argue the same of the Tristar effort; I mean, consider the box-office and home-viewing tally: not too shabby for something labeled a forgettable flop.)

The bottom line: When you're loyal to a legend, no matter how many times its rehashed or modified--whether you catch a new take early or late in the going--you've no choice but to remain close to the cause. As a lifelong Godzilla fan, I appreciate "Shin Gojira" for what it is. I'm aware that the big guy will never perish and consistently return in one form or another. I'm damn glad of that, and if you've taken the time to read my assessment, you're probably of the same, appreciative ilk. 

Wonder what Toho plans for the sequel... Well, whatever it might be, I'll no doubt be pleased. I only hope I don't have to wait forever and a day to see it.  

I saw Godzilla (2014)...

Gojira, better known on the English-tongued front as Godzilla, is back in a sprawling Legendary Films 2014 reboot; not that I really need to remind you of this. The behemoth's return is evident through every facet of the media, which naturally goes to reason. The Toho Studios brainchild is a sentimental favorite: a monster most of us have joyously grown up with. 

This particular retelling (directed by Gareth "Monsters" Edwards and story lined by Max Borenstein and David Callahem) initially presents the great one as a metaphor for an unstoppable force of nature. I suppose it only goes to reason that Hollywood would use that angle, which alas, is predictably tired. How many times must we be told that humankind is solely to blame for Earth's otherwise natural disasters, including Godzilla's emergence? Thank goodness, the concept isn't beaten into the ground for very long and eventually even gets turned on its head.

In truth, Bryan Cranston makes the latter easier to swallow, even if his character is prominent only in the picture's first half, but considering the plot's circumstances, that's where he's probably most needed. 

He plays Dr. Joe Brody, a physicist desperate to reveal a government cover-up: that radioactive monsters do roam the planet. He is obsessively lonely (especially in the wake of his wife's untimely death) and above all, sad and mad, offering a nice brush of "Breaking Bad", while also welcoming us to see through is eyes. Yes, the poor guy is significantly on edge, and even pulls his gallant son (Aaron "Kick-Ass" Taylor-Johnson), a Naval lieutenant and explosives expert, into his tormented zeal, but still for all intents and purposes, he could be you or me, giving the tale (while the compassionate moment lasts) a lovely, empathetic flow.

There are also other characters who eventually grab the reins from father and son, portrayed by the likes of Ken Wantanabe as the insightful Dr. Ishiro Scrizawa, David Straithairn as the level-headed Admiral William Stenz and Elizabeth Olsen as Lieutenant Brody's worried wife: all more than competent within the story's context, but let's face it, it's Godzilla we've come to see, even if he's again redesigned; but hey, that's a tradition we've happily embraced for six decades. Why the hell stop now?

At any rate, the military intrepidly swoops in to investigate (and hopefully halt) an ongoing string of monster-sprung disasters; and unlike in similar creature epics, the Armed Forces actually come across as refreshingly and realistically competent here. Also, as the destruction escalates, we experience Godzilla's steadier exposure, watching him become (as we have experienced in so many Toho classics) by no means our curse, but rather our grand defender. The let-down is, his presence is mostly insinuated and never consistently seen: a disenchanting minus, if ever there was one. 

To compensate for Godzilla's lack of visibility, it's his adversaries who enter the forefront. They're called the Mutos (Massive Unidentified Terrestrial Organisms): a duo of fiery-eyed, spidery "Cloverfield"-like things, of both genders, that have transformed from once existing monsters into more ghastly ones; one crawls, the other flies. (Pre-production sketches actually inspired some to speculate that the film's primary foe might be Godzilla's old, Cyclopean adversary, Gigan, albeit it heavily revamped, but more recent reports promptly squashed such fervid anticipation.)

Just as Godzilla is radiation's spawn, the Mutos actually feed off such; and though they are ultimately destined to be passionately embraced by die-hard, kaiju fans, they are, in truth, despicable, ruthless things: behemoth terrorists that won't--and shouldn't--gain an iota of sympathy for their destructive deeds, even though it seems they only wish to mate (but oh, what horrid consequences such would bring if left unattended).

Anyway, with the gigantic villains firmly established, most would naturally expect Godzilla to readily crush his foes, but just remember, the great lizard lost to Kong, Mothra's offspring and even when teamed with Rodan (another Toho favorite fans were hoping to grace this epic), kissed defeat via the evil, three-headed "Monster Zero" (aka, Ghidrah/Ghidorah). Simply put, in Godzilla lore, no outcome is ever assured. 

Regardless of the combative result (and I'm just trying to mount some suspense for those who haven't seen the film yet), Godzilla nonetheless spitefully rises as the yarn's stalwart hero: a legend still to be loved and admired. Yep, the enduring sentiment can't be ignored in this outing, even through all the hazy, special-effects jammed glory and unfortunate brevity of his screen time. Despite it all--Hallelujah!--our childhood buddy has returned once more, and by the time the end credits roll, only self-denying grumps will likely walk away dissatisfied.