Gojira: Japan's First Giant Monster Film

Hello again Confections!

After a recent review dealt with a movie so new that it was over a week away from its official release when the review itself went up, I’m going to do an about-face and run backward 55 years. Actually, first I’m going to run backward seventy-three years. Not only that, but I’m going to do something I MAY never do again. I’m going to review a film in a dead-pan serious way and refrain from making as many parenthetical jokes and bad puns as I can. This will be one of a select few reviews that I approach with such an air of reverence, so I suggest you enjoy the respite from sarcasm.

You can read the next few paragraphs for some background information, or skip ahead to the picture of the title card, that's the point that I actually get to talking about the movie itself and doing a review.

In 1933, Universal and RKO released a picture that forever redefined the film world; a film so monumental in its importance that it is safe to say that any film that employs special effects as its primary storytelling device owes its existence to this one film (thus proving that even great things can have bad consequences, for if not for this movie, Roland Emmerich may never have disgraced the silver screen with any of his abominations). I am of course talking about King Kong. A full review of that film will certainly be done by me some day, but in the meantime simply chew on this: the infamous log-scene in that film employs a staggering amount of special effects trickery and with such astonishing effectiveness that I still gape in awe at it even as we approach the film’s seventy-fifth anniversary. Compare that with how extraordinarily unimpressed I was with the “amazing effects” of MichaelBay’s Transformers films and that should give you an idea of just how good the work of Willis O'Brien was.

Okay, so 1933, King Kong blows people’s minds and redefines the genre (and at the time of this writing, I am hard-pressed to think of a single movie redefining special effects to such an extent as to make all of its contemporaries look like buffoons until over 60 years later when Jurassic Park hit theaters and destroyed all ideas of just how realistic special effects could be). Fast forward twenty-two years to 1952, King Kong gets re-released in theaters (more like re-re-re-re-released) and is so profitable that even the money-hungry schmucks responsible are left dumb-founded. Somebody gets it in their head that the reason King Kong was so popular was the MONSTER and not the people, so maybe giant monsters have a box-office draw. The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (another film that I PROMISE I will one day review) is created and it blows people's minds again. Hollywood takes notice. People like monster movies.

 Half a world away, in Japan, an aspiring film maker, Tomoyuki Tanaka was struggling as a project of his was falling apart. With a film due to Toho studios and no film currently being worked on due to lack of financial support, Tanaka sat on a plane from Indonesia to Japan when a light bulb appeared over his head. Looking out his window at the waves of the pacific, he struck upon the idea of doing a monster movie. Tanaka loved King Kong and if he hadn’t yet seen The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (and it’s a possibility, the film didn’t open in Japan until after he began working on his own monster movie), he was certainly aware of its existence, the most basic elements of its plot, and the amount of money it was raking in. He approached Toho with a very rough idea to make a Japanese monster movie. The studio accepted his proposal and kaiju eiga (roughly translated: monster movie but trust me, it’s a bit more than that) was born.

Tanaka, special effects guru Eiji Tsubaraya, and director Ishiro Honda ultimately created the beast together. In the end, what they came up with was a roughly dinosaurian creature. Pretty standard fair as far as giant monsters go, but Tanaka and his team struck upon an idea much more sinister, and much more meaningful. This monster they had created would not just be a beast aroused from slumber by meddling men. This creature, who would later be dubbed Gojira, was literally the atomic bomb incarnate.

Chew on that for a while. In 1954, less than ten years after the United States had wiped out two of Japan’s cities using the atomic bomb, a team of movie producers released a movie where living atomic weapon rose from the depths and laid waste to Tokyo. Calling such a bold move unprecedented is not giving it nearly enough credit.

It is important to note that I will strictly be reviewing the Japanese version of this film. When bringing it over to America, the company in charge of distributing the movie cut it significantly and actually shot new scenes, thus giving the Americanized version of the film a different enough feel that each version deserves its own review. They also changed the name of the beast. In Japan, the kaiju is called Gojira, a mish-mash of the Japanese words for gorilla and whale (and reportedly [though never confirmed] a nickname of a rather rotund crew member). In America, Hollywood morons (and perhaps that’s being too harsh, because they do treat the rest of the film rather respectfully) decided that the Japanse simply don’t know how to talk, assumed Engrish was on display, and redubbed the creature Godzilla. Thus, I reveal to you (assuming this is the first place you’ve heard this, and if so you desperately need to bone up on your film history) that Godzilla is NOT a translation of a Japanese name, nor is it the creature’s name in Japan. Certain pompous buffoons refuse to call him Godzilla despite the fact that they undoubtedly grew up calling him that, and for this one review only I will indulge them (I myself grew up calling him Godzilla and will continue to do so). Also of note is that I find this movie to be so significant that I will try my best to keep my plot synopsis as short as possible (but we should all know by now how I like to ramble. One could say I like to hear myself speak, but in context of the medium in use, I doubt that’d be entirely accurate).

A series of ship sinkings have a Japanese steamship company upset. A first ship is lost and when a second ship goes to investigate it too is wiped off the face of the earth (or the sea). A few survivors are picked up by a smaller fishing ship who drop them off at Ohto Island and the company sends a third ship to pick them up while assuring the families of the various crews that more information will be released when it is known. The third ship is sunk.

The Southern Sea Steamship Company isn’t so daft as to keep fueling whatever fire is wiping out their fleet (much unlike the various summer camps that constantly try to open up at Crystal Lake), and they decide to take a wait and see approach for now while a helicopter is dispatched to glean what information is possible from the residents of Ohto Island. A reporter, Hagiwara (played by Sachio Sakai from King Kong Escapes and Godzilla's Revenge), sets about interviewing the natives and manages to learn a few things. Firstly, he learns that the only survivor Ohto Island’s natives have seen muttered almost incoherently about the ocean bursting into flames and a monster. Secondly, he learns that the island’s population has become increasingly convinced (despite initial skepticism, a point which goes to show that these ARE relatively civilized human beings and not just savages who think that only God can create fire and monsters are responsible for everything). Thirdly, he learns that there MAY be some credence to the giant monster claims after all.

During the night, the natives perform an ancient exorcism ceremony. Per one of the island’s elders, this ceremony is all that remains of what used to consist also of human sacrifice (another interesting layer to the natives; they are civilized enough to not REALLY believe in monsters unless confronted with hard evidence and yet not so civilized that they have difficulty fathoming human sacrifice – we get the feeling that the old man may even have PARTICIPATED in one of these rituals). When Hagiwara asks what monster specifically the old man is referring to, he learns the beasts name is Gojira.

After the ceremony has been completed, a violent thunderstorm breaks out and one of the natives’ houses is crushed…from above. The lone survivor of the house, Shinkichi, and various other natives of the island are brought to Tokyo to report what they believe. Though they all differ a bit in their telling, they all agree some manner of large creature was responsible. Hagiwara is inclined to believe them too, as the helicopter was smashed…from above. All of this leads us to an introduction of our four main characters (so late in the film, I know...but really, it’s only been about 15 minutes or so). Dr. Yamane (played by Takashi Shimura, whose appearance would be a dead give away to Japanese audiences that this is a serious movie and who would also appear in Ghidrah the Three Headed Monster and Godzila Raids Again) is a famous paleontologist who is put in charge of an expedition to investigate OhtoIsland. He brings with him is daughter, Emiko (and a myriad of scientific and naval personnel - Emiko is played by Momoko Kochi who would also appear in Half-Human and Godzilla vs. Destoroyah) as well as being accompanied by Lt. Ogata (Akira Takarada later of Mothra vs. Godzilla and Godzilla Final Wars). Ogata, you see, works for Southern Sea, so he (or at least his company) has a vested interest in figuring out just exactly what has been sinking all those ships. At the dock to see them off (sort of) is Dr. Serizawa (Akihiko Hirada who would appear in King Kong vs. Godzilla and Terror of Mechagodzilla later on), a rather ‘evil’ looking man with an eye-patch, scarred face, and stern countenance. We get the feeling that Serizawa’s appearance on the dock was somehow significant to Emiko and an odd conversation between her and Ogata only helps to obfuscate the relationship between these four characters.

Enough of that, for now though, we have arrived at Ohto Island (phew, no other ship has made it this far in quite some time) and Dr. Yamane begins inspecting the island. What he finds is that portions of the island are highly radioactive; portions being a key-word as radioactive fallout is typically not isolated to small specific areas. Later, standing in a depression in the ground, Yamane almost incredulously declares, “this is the footprint of a living creature,” as he picks up a trilobite sample of a species thought to have been extinct for millions of years. His fascination and research are cut short however as the island’s alarm bell is sounded. Everyone (villagers, research personnel, etc) run to the highest point of Ohto Island (sort of a ‘head for the hills’ idea) and when Emiko ultimately reaches the top, she finds her father with an awe-struck, faraway look in his eyes as he exclaims, “I saw it! A creature from the Jurassic period!” As if hearing his cue, Gojira’s head appears above the top of the hill, peers down on the terrified humans, and bellows the singular most famous movie monster cry in the history of the world (King Kong, eat your heart out).

 Later, back in Japan, Yamane gives a full report on his findings at OhtoIsland. The monster, it seems, is radioactive and Yamane believes it to be some species of dinosaur that had gone into hibernation. When he is scoffed at, he offers up the trilobite as evidence that this is in fact a prehistoric beast, not only awakened from slumber, but altered and mutated by atomic testing. The presence of Strontium-90 in the footprints of the great beast is revealed to be typical of fallout from nuclear testing.

When asked how he thinks Gojira can be killed, Yamane refuses, not only on general principle (think of how fascinating a living specimen like that would be to a PALEONTOLOGIST!) but also because Gojira has clearly absorbed massive amounts of radiation and SURVIVED. Essentially, he says, “This thing has survived a nuclear bomb, what do you think could kill it?”

Ultimately, the Japanese government decides to drop dozens (hundreds? We’re never told how many) of depth-charges in an around the various areas where Gojira had been seen. Mark this moment in your minds…DO IT! This is the FIRST (but not last) time we see a military operation to kill Gojira. Not only that, this is the first (but nowhere near the last) time we get the impression that conventional weapons will NOT stop Gojira, or do ANYTHING other than agitate him.

 Meanwhile, Hagiwara takes it upon himself to seek out Dr. Serizawa. Rumor has it that the scientist has been hard at work on something which may be vital in the fight against Gojira. Nothing else is known about it, but Hagiwara has an in. He is at least somewhat familiar with (and in what way we are NEVER really sure, but it’s inconsequential) Emiko Yamane, who is (drum roll please) the fiancé of Dr. Serizawa. Unfortunately, Serizawa doesn’t want to speak to the reporter and the man is shown the door, however, Emiko lingers. She isn’t just there to bring along this reporter, no sir. Emiko, you see, is deeply in love with Ogata. That being the case, she has come to see Serizawa to inform him of her intent to break off her engagement to Serizawa and marry Ogata instead. Before she can get into her speech, however, Serizawa claims he has something important to show her. What he shows her is so shocking, that she forgets her reason for coming to see him in the first place and instead just promises she won’t speak a word of it to anybody.

 That night, the futility of the depth-charge attack makes itself known as Gojira wades ashore in the TokyoBay area and causes some destruction. It’s enough to cause the evacuation of the area and build a perimeter defense against the creature for his inevitable return, but not enough to change Yamane’s opinion that Gojira must be STUDIED rather than destroyed.

It’s important to note that a full-scale evacuation of Tokyo would be difficult to pull off, and the Japanese government is convinced the 50,000 volt electrical barrier between Gojira and the heart of Tokyo will serve its purpose. Thus it is a rather populous downtown Tokyo that Gojira ultimately ravages after he unveils his ultimate weapon. During the course of his encounter with the barrier, you see, Gojira becomes little more than agitated to the point where he opens his mouth and spits radioactive fire on the electrical towers. As the military attempts to fight Gojira with machine guns, bombs and tanks, he simply wipes them out and turns Tokyo into a sea of fire with his trademark weapon.

 The carnage of the rampage is equaled perhaps only by the remaining portion of the film. Not only do we see the brutality of Gojira on display as he sets about destroying everything beautiful about Tokyo, we see the aftermath of this brutality. A scene in a hospital connects us with the gravity of what happened (just in case you THOUGHT the directors were going for a Michael Bay-esque “look at the SPECTACLE” approach). Burnt bodies lie amidst the piles of rubble, infants weep over their dying and dead parents, and doctors wave Geiger counters across children and shake their heads in despair. It is enough to break Emiko’s heart (and if you don’t find yourself a little bit heartbroken by the scene, I suggest you go to the doctor to ensure you do in fact HAVE a heart) and cause her to open up about Serizawa’s secret. She does believe that his work could be integral in stopping Gojira and she’s willing to break a promise to Serizawa (and it’s the second one she’s broken) in order to bring and end to the monster’s reign of terror.

There is so much to like about this movie I hardly know where to begin, but I will start with where it becomes its own movie. Up until the point at which Dr. Yamane addresses Gojira and explains the evidence found on Ohto Island, the movie is more or less a mish-mash and a rehash of the ideas presented in both King Kong and The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms. Gojira is the mythical god of a group of relatively uncivilized villagers (King Kong) and is awoken from a long slumber by a nuclear weapon (the rhedosaurus from Beast). At this point, the movie transcends the standards set forth by its predecessors, for Gojira wasn’t just awoken by the bomb, he was changed by it. He absorbed its energy and his subsequent rampages aren’t just those of a monster running amok, they are the work of a living nuclear weapon. Gojira is the worst fear of every single person who opposes the use of nuclear energy, a mutant, an entirely new species, and one whose very existence threatens the entire world with radioactive fallout. Who cares if the United States has nuclear weapons at its disposal when a creature such as this can strike anywhere and at any time without need for motive?

From this point on, Gojira makes its mark felt on the film world. Awakening beasts is bad enough, but CREATING them is a terrifying though. Bringing the terror home further is Gojira’s radioactive breath. Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong but I don’t think any mutant from radiation was given superpowers due to its mutation up until Gojira, in fact, I’m fairly confident that every giant monster film up to this point (with the exception of Beast) was some sort of King Kong ripoff. In this way if no other Gojira puts itself ahead of its pack by saying, “This isn’t just a giant ape that you can knock off a building or a dinosaur that you can fire weapons at and kill…this is an unstoppable force.”

The fire breath makes Gojira a powerful and interesting foe, but Gojira is NOT, I repeat NOT a giant monster to gawk at while it wrecks a city. He is meant to be taken dead-serious and look no further than his final rampage in Tokyo if you need any more proof. The monster exhibits no forms of humanity or mercy, for starters. King Kong’s rampages were to be gawked at because the ape had a rather likeable personality. He had, afterall, saved Fay Wray’s life more than once and was willing to go through hell to protect her. Gojira, on the other hand, only scowls and roars defiantly into the sky as he spews fire and tramples people. Secondly, we have the woman and her children. At one point during Gojira’s fiery storm, a woman sits surrounded by fire at all sides with her children in her arms tell them, “it’s ok, we will be with your father soon.” We also have the tower where reporters are plunged to their death as they have nowhere to ruin from the beast.

Finally, we have the most damning piece of evidence against those who would dismiss Gojira as “just a monster movie” in the point at which it pauses to take toll of the destruction. We’re not meant to gape in awe at crumbled buildings or ruined countryside (as we are in the pile of excrement that is 1998’s Godzilla), we are meant to see how serious the situation is.

 So, with how serious and devastating Gojira is and will continue to be if nobody stops him, why isn’t Dr. Serizawa all systems go with his work that could lead to a way to destroy the monster? That is one of the greatest things about Gojira. Serizawa has created a weapon that is so terrifying and powerful that he fears if he even makes it, even if he just uses it once to destroy Gojira, he will be somehow coerced to use it as a weapon against humanity. Serizawa’s struggle with whether or not to use his weapon is interesting and I have to wonder if the directors knew the parallel they were giving us. Serizawa is looking over the destruction of his people, his city, and the effect it is having on the woman he intends to marry and is struggling with the idea that the only way to stop it may be to unleash a force upon the world that was never meant to be seen. I HOPE that sounds like the struggle Harry Truman underwent when deciding to use the atom bomb to someone else out there, otherwise I’m just spitting into the wind. I find it incredibly interesting that a movie that so thoroughly damns the use of atomic weapons ultimately comes to the conclusion that it is acceptable to unleash a weapon of untold destructive power in order to save the lives of one’s countrymen. Granted, Serizawa goes to greater lengths to ensure the use of his weapon against Gojira will be the only time it is ever used and makes the ultimate sacrifice in the process while the members of the Manhattan Project ensured the proliferation of their work, but still even while Gojira wags its fingers at those who would consider the use of atomic weapons it seems to say, “Do as I say, not as I (would) do.”

The human drama in this movie is excellent. The extraordinarily uncomfortable love triangle between Dr. Serizawa, Ogata, and Emiko is used to perfection here. It does not dominate the main plot, but at the same time it as at the heart of the action. There are no clear-cut good or bad characters here. From one point of view, Emiko is breaking promises left and right, Ogata is wooing another man’s woman, and Serizawa is hard at work on a research destructive forces in the pursuit of knowledge (in other words, a liar, a sex scandal, and every stereotypical evil scientist ever); yet from a different perspective, Emiko is doing everything she can to not hurt anybody and is trying to convince Serizawa to save the world (not only that, but Emiko is never really stringing Serizawa along, her intentions are pretty clear throughout the entire film), Ogata refuses to do anything with his feelings for Emiko without Dr. Yamane’s permission and Serizawa being made aware (and he volunteers to be the one to use the weapon against Gojira), and Serizawa is one of the most tragic characters in film history – a pacifist scarred both physically and mentally by the war who struggles with the idea that something he has created has the potential to cause harm. We get the feeling that Serizawa’s lone link to the world of sanity after all he has seen both in the war and in his experiments is Emiko, and the instant he sees the way she acts toward Ogata, he makes up his mind about what must be done. These characters are real people with real motives and emotions. The monster may outshine them (if only because he is arguably the single most iconic film character ever); Gojira does not (unlike King Kong) out-ACT his human cast.

Finally, I’ll wrap up with a word (or several hundred) about the climax. I said before that Gojira does not display any humanity, compassion or mercy. I lied. In the movie’s climax, the director goes out of his way to show us that the unstoppable force at the center of all the destruction and loss of life is, at least in part, just as much a victim as those he is doing harm to. Although it’s brief, we catch a glimpse of Gojira resting beneath the sea, in some sort of context of his normal life before he was changed forever by forces far beyond his control or understanding. While Gojira may be at heart little more than a living nuclear weapon, he was once nothing more than an animal. Our heart breaks at the end, for ALL involved. The suffering Gojira undergoes (and has undergone since he was altered by the bomb) is a pain we would wish upon nobody. He has been thrown into a world he can’t possibly understand or co-exist in, and in that one glimpse of him living peacefully, I often think of Stephen King’s Cujo who was as much the victim as he was the instrument of evil (read the book, and if you’re not nearly rooting for the dog, you’re not paying attention). Likewise, we feel for Dr. Serizawa who knew that whether or not he destroyed his notes on his experiment, the knowledge would live forever in his head, and there was only one way for him to be SURE all knowledge of his weapon was destroyed. If your heart doesn’t go out to the pitiable Emiko Yamane, then I pity you and if you think Ogata doesn’t feel at least partly responsible for Serizawa’s fate, then perhaps you should further question why he is weeping so sincerely. Lastly, we are left with the parting words from Dr. Yamane. Perhaps remembering the trilobite found in the footprint from Gojira’s first appearance, Dr. Yamane laments that though they may have stopped Gojira, not only was the cost unbelievably high but it is his belief as a man of science that Gojira was not the only one of his species.

I’ve come to the conclusion that “Lessons Learned” is kind of going to be my “thing” and as such, I can’t make exceptions, even when confronted with a movie of this magnitude. Obviously, the first lesson is not to play with powers beyond your control. To delve into the more satirical and sarcastic lessons, never lead two men along at the same time, because in the end, one of them will die and the other will be a wimp and cry, a super-weapon does not have to be some sort of ray-gun or rocket, in olden times monsters looked different when viewed for headshots and from far away (in reference to the rather mediocre hand puppet used for close-up shots of Gojira) and finally, never bet the farm on stopping the first monster that rears its ugly head because someone will undoubtedly predict that more are on the way and be proven right.

This film may have a misstep or two in its effects work, the inspiration may not be 100% original, and I am a complete moron not showering praised upon Akira Ifukube for his extremely incredible score (cut me some slack, I’m trying to keep this review to less than 10 pages), but they were literally inventing the effects techniques as they went along, every single man-in-monster-suit movie you have EVER loved (or loathed) owes it’s roots to this film, and it therefore garners my highest possible rating.

For a fully detailed explanation of my ratings, a full index of my reviews, and hints as to what I might review next, CLICK HERE!