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Mike Wilmington

By Mike Wilmington Wilmington@moviecitynews.com

Wilmington on DVDs. Godzilla

GODZILLA (Two Discs) (Also Blu-ray) (Four Stars)
Japan: Ishiro Honda, 1954 (Criterion)
I. Godzilla
In 1954, a hideous fire-breathing lizard-like monster named Gojira (Godzilla to you) rose up from the seas around Japan, and began a series of fearsome cinematic attacks — usually on the populace and buildings of Tokyo, but also on other Japanese cities — assaults that for sheer rampaging destructiveness, graphic terror and a seemingly insane determination to keep on coming no matter what, remain in an awesome class by themselves.
On and on came Godzilla. (“Gojira” in Japan.) Back and back, through movie after movie, he/it marched toward Tokyo or elsewhere, seemingly winning every battle but the last, and eventually joined by a whole horde of fellow monsters spewed up by the polluted ocean, by mutant-producing radioactivity and by other evils of the post-war era. Inncluded in the dangerous menagerie were such horrific behemoths as Rodan (a mammoth pterodactyl), Ghidrah (a huge three-headed dragon from outer space), King Kong (the legendary gigantic ape from the 1933 Cooper-Schoedsack-Willis O’Brien classic, who decided to crash the party in 1962-3), the heart-stoppingly original Mothra ( a colossal caterpillar turned immense monster-moth), and, last and probably least, Hedorah the Smog Monster, an ecological menace who happily did not give birth to Stinkzilla the Slime Monster, Polluthra the Fog Monster or Pesticida the Bug Fiend.
Meanwhile, elbowing his way through all the Mothras and Ghidrahs — and through such America mutant knockoffs as Tarantula, The Amazing Colossal Man, Attack of the 50-Foot Woman and the gigantic ants from Them, Godzilla proved himself the most durable — the most well-loved big, murderous, seemingly unstoppable monster of them all. Rock n’ roll will never die, and neither, it seems, will Gojira. (Excuse me: Godzilla.)
2. Honda

Ah, Godzilla! One of the biggest hits in the history of Japanese cinemas, and certainly one of the most fecund of all Japanese movies and movie franchises, Godzilla was the brainchild of several highly gifted people who all hit their career peaks while bringing this beast to life, including producer Tomoyuki Tanaka, original story writer Shigero Kayama, co-screenwriter Takeo Murata, special effects director Eiji Tsuburaya, and, perhaps most important e show’s vastly underrated director-co-writer Ishiro Honda — a master of cinematic action, who was one of Akira Kurosawa’s lifelong best friends, and who was also his old buddy’s action director on the period masterpieces Kagemusha and Ran.

Kurosawa has said that the secret (or sometimes not so secret) subtext of all his movies is the paranoia of the nuclear age, and Honda could say the same thing — especially of Godzilla. The movie’s inspiration came from a real-life nuclear accident: the irradiation of a huge area around the American H-Bomb test site at Bikini Atoll, and the poisonings and deaths of Japanese fishermen on the trawler Lucky Dragon Number 5, which had strayed into the danger zone. Godzilla begins with a virtual recreation of that incident, with monster instead of radiation. And the clear implication is that we can take the monster attack as a metaphor for nuclear poisoning — even though the movie’s Godzilla has apparently been around for a while. Soon the humungous lizard-being is invading islands, attacking more sea craft, and edging closer and closer to his Grand March on Tokyo — a metropolis that he can, impressively, find without the aid of maps or compass.

Arrayed against Godzilla, demonstrating almost constant displays of futility, are the Japanese Army, Police, and all the country’s top scientific brains, plus the media. Think this country can easily wipe out one (admittedly rather large) lizard? Think again, sucker. But there is hope. Chief among the dauntless humans on the job are the classically paternal Takashi Shimura (who led Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai into battle that same year) as the maverick professor Kyohei Yamane, along with a triangle comprising Kyohei’s beautiful daughter Emiko (Momoki Kochi), her handsome newsman admirer Hideto Agata (played by the soon-to-be big star Akira Tarada) and her other admirer, the brilliant but tormented scientist Dr. Daisuke Serizawa (Akihiko Hurata).

Somehow we sense that this quartet will be able to carry the day against Godzilla, who is actually a couple of guys in a lizard suit, cut into special effects or miniature shots of villages and cities in flames. But if that’s a cliché, it’s not one we mind very much. (As Roman Polanski once said: “I adore clichés. All the great artists use them.”) Godzilla is one of those movies that seems to be a perfect realization of its material, and this is the perfect Godzilla movie. Even the fact that Godzilla is created by guys in Godzilla suits doesn’t hurt; it even humanizes the old monster a little.

For Japanese audiences, who stormed into the theaters for their first glimpse of what would become their favorite monster (and one of the world’s) this movie certainly fulfilled all their expectations — raising up some of the country’s worst fears and inflating them to wild, gigantic proportions, and then laying those fears to rest, with the help of the clichéd ending almost everybody actually wants.

3. King of the Monsters!

Honda’s unlikely classic — which had the unfortunate effect of type-casting him as the Japanese film industry’s main monster man — remains the best of all the Godzilla movies (and all the other Gojira spawn as well) and also one of the best of all monster movies, period. Certainly it’s better than the Godzilla show that most Americans saw first: an English language version (included in this Criterion set) which was retitled Godzilla, King of the Monsters! Listed as “directed by Terry Morse and Ishiro Honda,” it is Honda’s version, dubbed into English, shorn of 20 minutes of footage, and with new scenes shot and added by Morse. It  features that classic film noir heavy Raymond Burr as American reporter Steve Martin, an amazing (though not especially wild and crazy) chap who’s always on the site of every fresh attack and catastrophe, though never in the same frame with Shimura or the others, and who keeps offering dolorous commentary and urbane synopsis.

It’s easy to knock Godzilla, King of the Monsters! But it was a hit too, and it’s still a lot of fun to watch. Morse respected the original film enough to try his damnedest to make his additions seamless and his dubbed dialogue flow — and it does. I like Morse’s version better than the 1998 giganto-budget American remake directed by Roland Emmerich. Emmerich, as it happened, was kinder to Godzilla than he was to William Shakespeare, the subject of his disgraceful recent Shakespeare bi-opic/would-be expose (or Comedy of Errors) Anonymous — in which the director of The Patriot and The Day After Tomorrow advances the the theory that Shakespeare’s plays were actually written by the (suitably aristocratic) Earl Of Oxford — and that indeed Shakespeare was barely literate, a bloody boor and probably a murderer to boot. Emmerich’s Godzilla could have used the real Steve Martin for cut-ins. So could Anonymous.

Anyway, Criterion made the right decision by including the remake in their package, though it would have been a mistake to add any more Honda Gojira or monster films, along with it (A later Eclipse set maybe?) (No, scratch that.)

4. Gojira

I’ve never visited Japan, and probably I never will. But if I get there, I know I’ll dream of seeing several things, all of which, to me, signify “Japanese cinema“ and “Japan.” A furious Kurosawa swordfight caught by three cameras. Two Ozu characters sitting on tatami mats, musing on the sadness of life. A geisha or wife suffering while Mizoguchi’s camera tracks slowly and beautifully around her. Something tragic or transgressive caught lucidly by Ichikawa or Imamura. And, rising up from the ocean, while the sun sets, Honda’s Godzilla (excuse me, Gojira), staring toward Tokyo and licking his chops.

Disc One: Godzilla (Gojira) (Japan: Ishiro Honda, 1954) Four Stars. (In Japanese, with English subtitles.)

Disc Two: Godzilla, King of the Monsters! (Japan/U.S.: Terry Morse & Ishiro Honda, 1955) Two and a Half Stars

Extras: Excellent Commentaries by Godzilla expert David Kalat; Interviews with actor Akira Tarada and Haruo Nakajima, special effects technicians Yoshio Irie and Eizo Kaimai, and stellar composer Akira Ifukube; Featurette on Godzilla’s photographic effects; Interview with film critic Tadao Sato; The Unluckiest Dragon, an illustrated audio essay by Greg Pflugfelder about the Bikini Atoll nuclear incident that inspired Godzilla; Trailers for both films; and booklet with very good essay by J. Hobernan..

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“Any time a movie causes a country to threaten nuclear retaliation, the higher-ups wanna get in a room with you… In terms of getting the word out about the movie, it’s not bad. If they actually make good on it, it would be bad for the world—but luckily that doesn’t seem like their style… We’ll make a movie that maybe for two seconds will make some 18-year-old think about North Korea in a way he never would have otherwise. Or who knows? We were told one of the reasons they’re so against the movie is that they’re afraid it’ll actually get into North Korea. They do have bootlegs and stuff. Maybe the tapes will make their way to North Korea and cause a fucking revolution. At best, it will cause a country to be free, and at worst, it will cause a nuclear war. Big margin with this movie.”
~ Seth Rogen In Rolling Stone 1224

“Yes, good movies sprout up, inevitably, in the cracks and seams between the tectonic plates on which all of these franchises stay balanced, and we are reassured of their hardiness. But we don’t see what we don’t see; we don’t see the effort, or the cost of the effort, or the movies of which we’re deprived because of the cost of the effort. Paul Thomas Anderson’s Inherent Vice may have come from a studio, but it still required a substantial chunk of outside financing, and at $35 million, it’s not even that expensive. No studio could find the $8.5 million it cost Dan Gilroy to make Nightcrawler. Birdman cost a mere $18 million and still had to scrape that together at the last minute. Imagine American movie culture for the last few years without Her or Foxcatcher or American Hustle or The Master or Zero Dark Thirty and it suddenly looks markedly more frail—and those movies exist only because of the fairy godmothership of independent producer Megan Ellison. The grace of billionaires is not a great business model on which to hang the hopes of an art form.”
~ Mark Harris On The State Of The Movies