Some Ishiro Honda to start the year!

Rodan (1956), directed by Ishiro Honda. This is the first of Toho Studio’s “Dai Kaiju” series shot in colour and it looks fine. The film is short on character development and it re-uses footage several times, but the special effects are attractive. The insect-like Meganurons are suitably hokey, and the pterodactyl-like Rodan (actually there are two of them) that eat the Meganurons are just great. They fly and swoop and whip up wind storms with relish. This is all good fun, except that this is all the result of humans creating nuclear weapons and using them. The early scenes in the coal mine before Rodan turns up are handled well and give us a sense of the life of these workers. I like the notion that human ingenuity and science produces such a primitive, visceral, and shocking reaction. The final scene is actually poignant. You will have to see the film to take in what I mean.

 

Varan the Unbelievable (1958), directed by Ishiro Honda. Of the several kaiju films we have seen, Varan the Unbelievable is the least interesting. Yes, we have a guy in a monster suit, a monster that has a passing resemblance to Godzilla, a gathering of ships, tanks, planes, cannon, rockets, and soldiers, and a futile attempt to stop the rampage of the monster as it stomps huts, houses, and sundry other things. It never does get to Tokyo or any other large urban centre. We have no back story for the monster. Where did it come from? Why is it so angry? Why does it not knock down any famous buildings? We have no back story for the few characters we follow as they attempt to deal with the emergency brought on by Varan. The thrashings and crashings are okay, as far as such things go, but the whole affair is rather tepid. Reviews, however, do compliment the film's score by Akira Ifukube.

 

The H-Man (1958), directed by Ishiro Honda. Think “The Blob,” the American film that came out the same year, except that his one is far more colourful, pulpy, and neon-soaked. Perhaps “adult” is a pertinent description. The nightclub sequences and the gangster angle made me think of Seijun Suzuki’s films of the 1960s. The plot has the Tokyo police looking for some nasty drug dealers, but finding themselves following the trail of a strange series of melting persons. It seems fallout from H-Bomb testing mixed with rainfall is melting a few people and turning them into a green gelatinous substance that seeks out other humans to melt them. The film is curious, but effective. The final sequence in the Tokyo sewers has to be seen to be believed. The garish nightclub sequences with their erotic dances are also noteworthy. The not so savoury influence of America seems evident here. In short, we have a hybrid, a mix of monster movie with film noir. The mixture, although odd, is deftly handled by the director Honda. The special effects by Eiji Tsuburaya (Godzilla and many in that franchise) are masterful, with melting people and oozing slime. 

 

Mothra vs Godzilla (1964), directed by Ishiro Honda. This is the one about the clash between Godzilla and a giant moth, and also the giant moth’s two larvae. This is an example of the Japanese kaiju film, most famous for Godzilla (1954). The plot has something to do with the environment, big business, and human stupidity (except for a trio of good guys). Most appealing to me are the Shobijin, twin small girls (fairies?) who often travel about in a box. These twins come from an island in the Pacific that is also home to Mothra, and to a people who dance and chant and dress in extravagant ways. As usual with these films, the surface fun contains serious matter beneath, most obviously the threat of nuclear damage to the planet. The monsters have camp charm, and the battles are furious. Godzilla does manage to destroy a few buildings, but not as many as in some of his appearances. This is a pretty good outing for the big guy, and his expression in this one is particularly menacing.

 

Frankenstein vs Baragon (1965), directed by Ishiro Honda. Imagine a Japanese monster flick that sports Nick Adams as a central character and “Frankenstein” as one of two large creatures duking it out, and you have this film. Really. It seems that during the Second World War, the Germans secretly give the Japanese the beating heart of “Frankenstein” (Dr. Frankenstein’s creation, not the zany doctor himself). Years later this heart is the focus of research at a laboratory that specializes in radiation. Somehow, this heart becomes a boy who escapes and runs about as a large feral child, large and growing larger. The authorities capture the boy and place him in a cage; soon he is outgrowing the cage. Meanwhile an earthquake in another part of town unearths a burrowing creature with a radioactive breath and glowing horn. This is Baragon. We all know that Baragon and the wild boy are fated to clash. They do while Nick Adams and his two cohorts look on with worried expressions. We have much rushing about and much thrashing and tossing of trees and boulders. Young Frankenstein is smart enough to make fire and this he uses to his advantage. Behind all this is, of course, the nuclear past that Japan has experienced. The German/American/Japanese connection is a reminder of the war that resulted in unleashing the nuclear nightmare, and that collectively these countries are responsible for the state of things as Baragon and Frankenstein battle. Thanks again Cole and John for passing this gem along. Baragon spitting feathers and the pig-on-a-rail scenes are worth the price of admission.