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8
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9 |
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10
= Highest Rating |
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Guest
Review by Troy
Guinn |
If
there was a Mount Rushmore-style monument dedicated
to the Japanese fantasy film, it might very well
feature these four likenesses: Tomoyuki Tanaka,
producer at Toho film studio, who, while on a
plane trip over the Pacific, first imagined the
creature that the world would come to know as
Godzilla; Ishirô Honda, at one time the assistant
director to the great Akira Kurosawa, and director
of Toho's kaiju eiga (giant monster films)
and virtually every classic Toho sci-fi/fantasy
film of the '60s; Eiji Tsubaraya, the special
effects master whose miniature and 'suit-mation'
craftsmanship gave magical form to Honda and Tanaka's
visions; and Akira Ifukube, the maestro, composer
of stirring, ominously memorable scores that gave
those scenes of men in monster costumes wrestling
and stomping amidst model cities a tone of mythic
gravity and tragedy.
These
four men, aided immeasurably by a well of fine
actors to draw from, put their stamp on every
Godzilla film of the late 1950s and '60s, as well
as Rodan,
Mothra, Atragon,
Matango, and other
milestones of the Japanese genre film. In the
first month of the 1970s, Eiji Tsuburaya died
while supervising the effects for Godzilla's
Revenge. His passing was only the first
of many significant changes Toho was to face that
year. 1970 would see Toho's proud studio system
come to an end, fragmenting into numerous, smaller
companies, the film projects fewer, to be farmed
out to independent firms instead of created in-house.
As it turned out, the last film that would bear
the earmarks of Toho's "Golden Age"
would not be a Godzilla vehicle. That distinction
would belong to an offbeat and entertaining film
that went into production in April, 1970, entitled
Space Amoeba.
An
unmanned space probe, Helios 7, is sent to explore
Jupiter, but encounters a mysterious "cloud".
This obviously purposeful amorphous entity seeps
into the probe, which soon reverses its course
back to Earth. Jaded photojournalist Taro Kudo
(the usually clean-cut Akira Kubo, playing very
nicely against type), flying home from an assignment,
catches a glimpse of Helios 7 falling towards
the Pacific Ocean. Once in Japan, Kudo cannot
convince his boss or anyone else of what he has
seen. He is approached by Ayako Hoshino (Atsuko
Takahashi) a perpetually cheerful young woman
who represents a company that wants to develop
Selgio Island, and wants Kudo to accompany her
to the island to take publicity photos. Kudo initially
dismisses the assignment as beneath him, but his
interest is peeked when he learns that an old
acquaintance, biologist Dr. Kyoichi Miya (Yoshio
Tsuchiya) is coming along to investigate legends
of monsters on Selgio. When Kudo also realizes
that the island is located in the vicinity of
where he saw Helios 7 go down, he sees a chance
to get photographic evidence proving his story,
and agrees to join the expedition.
While on the voyage that will carry them to the
island, they are approached by Makoto Obata, who
claims to be an anthropologist interested in research
on Selgio Island. Obata is played by Kenji Sahara,
another actor normally given heroic roles. One
look at him here, though, in his hilariously tacky
suit, tinted shades, pointed beard, and cigarette
holder, and we just know he's up to no good. I've
always gotten a kick out of the cartoonish depiction
of sinister or shady characters in director Honda's
fantasy films, and Obata here is no exception,
at least in appearance. However, his character
eventually reveals more layers than we initially
expect.
Meanwhile,
the legendary squid-like monster Gezora makes
an appearance on Selgio Island, attacking a pair
of company employees, killing one in the process.
When the researchers arrive on the island, they
are met with hostility by the natives, except
for one named Rico, who explains that the natives
blame Gezora's anger on the Japanese exploitation
of the island. During a subsequent attack by Gezora,
in which he destroys the researchers' hut and
kills another employee, Rico sees that the monster
has a key weakness, but the attack shocks him
into amnesia before he can relate to the others
what he has seen. Kudo discovers that Obata is
a spy hired by another firm to steal the development
plans, but eventually all the human inhabitants
must put aside their differences as more horrors
are unleashed on Selgio. Dr. Miya realizes that
an alien force has returned inside Helios 7, intent
on world conquest and using monsters as its tools,
first Gezora, then the turtle-like Kamoebas and
the giant crab, Ganimes. A desperate struggle
to survive begins, as the humans find elements
at their disposal to combat the invisible Alien
and the horrific monsters it controls; fire, military
weapons discovered in an island garrison abandoned
after WWII, and, when Rico recovers from his amnesia
and reveals that Gezora can be hurt by ultrasonic
frequencies, even other animal inhabitants of
the island are employed by the resourceful heroes.
As Kudo says, "The united forces of earth
creatures — porpoises,
bats, and men... Who'd believe this story?"
Space
Amoeba was released
in the U.S. under the title Yog, Monster From
Space. I've never heard a reason for this
re-titling, but the interviewer on the DVD's audio
commentary speculates that Gezora's appearance
is a bit like H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu, thus the
Yog title might be a reference to the Lovecraftian
entity Yog-Sothoth. This might be a stretch, but
it's true that if bat wings were given to Gezora,
he might pass as an interpretation of old H.P.'s
favorite dreaming cephalopod. In any case, Gezora
failed to captivate the public like Toho's popular
fire-breathing lizard, and it would be nearly
three decades before the studio made another giant
monster movie that didn't feature Godzilla (1996's
Rebirth Of Mothra).
Space
Amoeba/Yog
has been largely forgotten, perhaps the most under-referenced
Japanese fantasy film of that era, and if it played
television at all in my hometown, my usually-watchful
eyes missed it. I was really eager to watch the
DVD, since it was the only old-school Toho giant
monster movie I had never seen, but the film's
general lack of reputation had me expecting something
only mildly appealing. Therefore, I was pleasantly
surprised to find the film to be a fast-paced,
humorous ride that definitely has all the charm
and conviction one associates with the classic
Toho kaiju eiga. There are weaknesses, to be sure:
the "alien hell-bent on conquering Earth
via the use of giant monsters" plot had already
gotten a bit worn by this point, and this alien
is even more one-dimensional than other Toho aliens
such as The Kilaaks or The Mysterians. Additionally,
there seems to have been a plan early on to give
the monster Gezora some depth. "He reads
our hearts by telepathy," says Rico, but
this is never expanded on or indicated by any
of the monster's actions. The opening credits,
though dramatic, are something of a tease as well,
as it hints that there will be a fight between
all three monsters (and in fact, the publicity
still that always turned up in Famous Monsters
magazine suggested the same thing), but the anticipated
monster asskick-a-trois never happens,
though Ganimes and Kamoebas do have a decent rumble
towards the end. The monster action is really
the draw here, let's face it, so the lack of a
really big battle was a letdown to this 40-year
old kid.
As for
the monsters themselves, the designs and execution
are imaginative, particularly Gezora, a two-piece
suit with multiple legs that must be second only
to King Ghidorah in complexity of operation. Sadamasa
Arikawa supervised the effects work, and looked
to be a worthy successor to the late Tsubaraya.
The effects and model-work are skillfully handled,
except for a few unconvincing human miniatures.
Arikawa left Toho after this film, and one can
only wonder how his expertise might have improved
the remaining Godzilla films in the '70s, even
when faced with the series' declining production
budgets.
One
of the more unique elements of the monsters in
Space
Amoeba is that they
are of considerably smaller-scale than Godzilla
and the fellow monsters in his mythos. This allows
director Honda to be more creative with his camera
placement, enhancing the plight of the humans,
bringing more intimacy to the attacks on the villages,
and also allowing for the creation of an impressive
large scale model village. More important than
that, the smaller scale of the monsters allows
the human characters to be able to convincingly
cause some damage as they combat them, something
rare in a kaiju eiga, where the Japanese army
usually just launches itself to be swatted away
in contempt by Godzilla and his brethren. In Space
Amoeba, the 'puny
human' protagonists are actually able to use their
wits and weapons and fight back against the marauding
beasts. This, as much as anything, reminds one
of what is missing from the Godzilla films of
the '70s, '90s, and onward...Honda's deeply felt
humanism that infused his work. Obata, the character
that we have distrusted from the start, is possessed
at one point by the alien, but as he struggles
against the aliens' influence, he proves the truth
of a comment spoken earlier by Dr. Miya, that
"man is more than a structure of cells, he
has a soul." Honda's optimism and respect
for life is what gave meaning to these fantastical
tales, and if Akira Ifukube's music does not deviate
much from his norm (other than the calypso-like
cue heard over the opening Toho logo), it's still
dramatic enough to underscore the serious dedication
with which the golden era of Japanese fantasy
films were made.
Of course,
selling the story falls first and foremost on
the cast, and part of the poignant experience
of watching Space
Amoeba is in knowing
that this would be the last film to use the Toho
stock company of actors. One's appreciation of
these thespians only grows with exposure to the
more offbeat Toho films such as Matango,
Dogora, and the film
reviewed here. Attractive, versatile, and charismatic,
actors like Kubo, Sahara, Tsuchiya, as well as
Akira Takarada and Kumi Mizuno, could inhabit
roles by turns villainous, heroic, and comic;
they could draw you in despite the sometimes overwhelming
size' of the titular monster 'stars'. After Space
Amoeba, Toho would
be forced to draw its future casts from the ranks
of television... and the lack of big screen experience
and big-screen presence would be greatly felt.
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Once again, Media Blasters'
Tokyo Shock line has given a kaiju eiga a respectful
and excellent DVD presentation. In fact, the only
thing that prevents this release from getting
full marks is the rather stingy number of chapters,
a mere 8 total. The 2:35:1 print is stunning,
showing off Taiichi Kankura's beautiful island
cinematography. Both the English dub and the original
Japanese language, English-subtitled versions
are included, nor does Media Blasters skimp when
it comes to adding cool extras to their Toho releases.
(Are you paying attention, Sony?) First, we are
given a short documentary examining the marine
animals used as a basis for the three monsters
in Space
Amoeba, and a trailer
with narration that hints at the humorous slant
of future Toho films ("Giant monsters!
How scary!") Best of all is an audio
commentary, as an unnamed interviewer discusses
the film with Fumio Tanaka, who co-produced Space
Amoeba with Tomoyuki
Tanaka (no relation). The gentlemen have a fun
time with the film (at one point speculating what
type sushi Gezora would make, and commenting on
his "sexy" walk) but there is a definite
bittersweet tone as Tanaka recounts the post-history
of this production, when the Toho management structure
changed, and its various departments went independent.
There was no longer any sense of a family, of
actors and technicians united under one roof.
Tanaka reveals that films after this became painful
to make, as there were fewer of them and so expectations
on each one became greater.
So, rather than being
an inconsequential footnote in Toho history, Space
Amoeba turns out to be essential viewing
for anyone studying the Japanese sci-fi/fantasy
film's golden era. As Tanaka wistfully declares
in his commentary, this film was "the last
of a good time, a great era, when young people
had more freedom."
5/24/06
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