Godzilla, Mothra and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack

Dear Takuya Yamabe, Suit Builder,

We get nearly an hour into Godzilla, Mothra and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack (in the interest of avoiding eyestrain, I’ll be using the abbreviation GMK from here on out) before we get to see your handiwork tearing up the screen, but, boy oh boy, is it ever worth the wait.  For a script heavily steeped in mysticism and Japanese folklore, you designed a Godzilla unlike any we’ve seen before.  Gone are the nuclear age allegories, the superheroic antics – everything familiar – and in their place a merciless, supernatural tale of vengeance.  Thanks to your hard work, the big guy comes off as genuinely scary for the first time in years.  

In a rather ballsy (and still hotly debated to this day) ret-conning of Godzilla’s backstory, we find out that he is, in fact, the embodiment of countless souls who were the victims of atrocities perpetrated during the Second World War, now seeking to make Japan pay for its sins.  To this point, an element of the suit that could have come off as hokey (perhaps you even said so when you first saw the concept art) works wonderfully: the pupilless, cloudy eyes. It’s an unsettling effect. Godzilla feels like something old and long dead whose very existence should be impossible.  

What works best is how emotive the head is. It’s all subtle movements, eyes narrowing and lips curling back, but it works wonders in establishing personality. Seeing the face of my childhood hero twist into a snarl of contempt during a battle was chilling the first time I saw it.  Frankly, I have no idea why it took the effects teams decades to figure out something so simple and effective. 

There’s a freshness to GMK that avoids the usual “Monster A appears, wrecks stuff, Godzilla shows up, battles Monster A, wins”-structure that was prevalent in the previous entries. Not that I really mind, to be fair; since this movie proposes that Godzilla hasn’t been seen or heard from since the events of the 1954 original, we now have an entirely new generation of fleeing, screaming ants who have no idea who Godzilla is or what he even looks like. This leads to some nice little moments of confusion when ‘Guardian Monsters’ – beasts prophesized to protect the homeland against any threat – begin to appear and are immediately mistaken for Godzilla. This build-up to the grand reveal of your lovingly-crafted costume is made all the more dramatic, leading into a sequence showcasing the grim reality of a massive creature in the middle of a highly-populated area.

The only real issue I have – and this has little to do with your involvement – is that the climatic monster fight feels a little weak, mostly due to the somewhat perplexing decision to have one of the Guardians slaughtered, get revived, only to receive another knockout punch almost immediately afterwards.  It’s a real tension killer.

This may not be the Godzilla I grew up with – and, honestly, it’s not one I am eager to see again – but as a one-and-done experiment that tries something a little different, it’s pretty much perfect.

Yours,

Kelan

Status: Air Mail (4/5)

Godzilla 1985

Dear Noboru Ikeda, Assistant Sound Technician,

One year, in grade school, we were asked to design posters that would be displayed in the hallways during parent-teacher interviews. The specific parameters of the project elude me, but nearly all of my classmates incorporated messages of religious faith and optimism into their drawings. Come the big night, one particular poster was the cause of a great deal of amusement amongst the visiting parents: it was a depiction of a ruined city skyline, and, scrawled above it, “GODZILLA MUST BE DESTROYED!”

It was signed by yours truly.  

Godzilla 1985 was the first film starring the Big G that I ever saw, and the impression it left  I think, speaks for itself.  Revisiting it as a (only slightly more) mature adult, what I think makes the movie work so well – aside from the obvious delight that comes from watching a dinosaur-like beast rampage across the screen – is your masterful use of sound.  Take, for instance, the build-up to our first glimpse of Godzilla: the camera takes on a perspective hundreds of feet high, moving through the fog, accompanied by rumbling, bestial growls.  Then we hear the thunderous footsteps. BOOM, BOOM. Cue some poor sap investigating the ruckus, and we get one of Godzilla’s most thrilling entrances. Thanks largely to you.

Thanks to the amped up sound effects – like those footfalls, and a roar that is greatly reduced in pitch from previous incarnations – Godzilla was given a weightier screen presence than he’d ever had before.  If not for some slightly awkward cuts from the classic suit to the animatronic stand-in that bears only a passing resemblance, one can totally buy into the illusion that there’s an enormous creature in the midst of Tokyo. But it’s not all about intimidation. You’re able, as well, to make the audience feel sympathy for the monster, as his vocalizations become increasingly desperate and even panicked as he’s lured into a trap that (only temporarily, of course ) disposes of him; a nice little reminder that he’s not completely evil but instead operating on animal instinct.

There’s also a pleasing oomph to the action sequences, particularly when the entire defensive line assembled along Tokyo Bay is eradicated with a single blast. Awesome, and totally unlike anything I had ever seen as a wee tyke. However, this leads me to the only area where the sound design falls a little short: the conclusion to the battle with the Super X (granted, the script does you no favors with its abrupt deus ex machina introduction). The confrontation begins pretty phenomenally: after scoring an early knockout blow, the nameless crew are forced to fight for their lives as a revived (and seriously disgruntled) Godzilla looks to commence round two. It’s a shame, then, that the rumble ends with a sound effect not unlike an insect getting swatted with a rolled up newspaper.  A fitting metaphor perhaps given the diminutive nature of Godzilla’s opponent, but I can’t help feel that a nice hearty KABLAMMO (or something like that—you’re the expert) would have felt a bit more satisfying.

But as much of a treat as this movie is for the ears, it’s interesting that one of its most effective moment is also its quietest.  The Cold War tension of the mid-80s provides a tone that’s unique among all other entries. It all comes to a head when American and Russian diplomats pressure the Japanese Prime Minister to allow the use of nuclear weapons against Godzilla, even if it means endangering the lives of countless Japanese citizens. It’s a nicely introspective scene, as numerous members of parliament discuss the pros and cons of using such technology, as well as addressing their own fears as to what kind of precedent such action could set.  Great stuff which harkens back to the moral themes of the very first Godzilla film.

It’s difficult to be completely unbiased towards Godzilla 1985 given the special place it holds in my heart. You helped create a sensory experience that was totally unique to my six-year-old ears. You brought to life my childhood hero, and for that I cannot thank you enough.

Sincerely,

Kelan

Status: Air Mail (4/5)

Godzilla Vs. Mothra

Dear Eiji Tsuburaya, Director of Special Effects,

You’ve certainly left behind one hell of a legacy, and the crowning achievement may just be Mothra vs Godzilla.  Many consider this to be one of the very best sequels in the franchise, with some even proposing that it surpasses the original.  Depending on my mood, I’d even be inclined to agree.  Part of what makes this film work so well is the sense of life and personality with which you were able to imbue your creations, lending the monster battles a surprising amount of emotional depth, which I’ll expand upon later.

Your effects work hand-in-hand with Shinichi Sekizawa’s script quite nicely, providing some truly great moments of spectacle without overwhelming the likeable characters, enjoyably sleazy villains, and the clever riffs on consumerism (a greedy corporation is seeking to profit from the mysterious appearance of an enormous egg, not caring, of course, that the egg carries the offspring of an entity revered as a god by a South Pacific tribe). Remember what I said about the spirit of innovation kind of dying down in your absence?  When the diminutive twin fairies, acting as envoys of Mothra, make an impassioned plea for the safe return of the egg, you actually constructed large scale furniture, carpets, wallpaper—everything to emphasize their small size. 

Brilliant.

Now, the main event: the clash between Godzilla and Mothra. Upon first glance it seems curiously small-scale compared to many of the series’ other rumbles. No major metropolitan areas are flattened as hundreds of extras scream in the foreground. No threat from apocalyptic nuclear devices. What makes it so memorable, as I mentioned earlier, is how well you help us empathize with these monsters. Well, maybe not so much with Godzilla, who is unquestionably the bad guy here; Mothra, on the other hand, is a mother fighting to the very last breath to protect her children, even if she is hopelessly outmatched.  Impossible not to be touched by that.  The prop you built to bring her to life is superb, and you may find it amusing to know that it would take Toho another 30+ years to live up to the standard you set for the character.

What gives this movie such a timeless feel, and perhaps what I appreciate most about it, is the message that no matter how bleak things may get, how dark, good always triumph over evil. I guess there’s really nothing else left to say, other than thanks for everything you’ve done.

Rest in Peace,

Kelan

Status: Priority Post (5/5)

Godzilla vs. King Kong

Dear Akira Ifukube, Composer,

Did the controversy surrounding the American release of King vs. Godzilla reach you at some point? The producers seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that the film is by and large a comedy, as evidenced by their decision to cut numerous scenes and replace them with inserts in which the “actors” demonstrate an uncanny ability to bring the action to a screeching halt by accurately predicting – and then explaining in detail – future plot points (unless, of course, it was common knowledge in the early 60s that electrocuting monkeys enhances their strength, in which case, pardon my error).  

But the greatest crime committed against the original cut of this film is the loss of your fantastic musical score, which is completely removed save for the chant performed by the natives worshipping King Kong.  Which, in itself, would have been bad enough. But to then replace it with it stock music from Universal Studios’ library—that’s just rubbing salt into my wounds.  

As one of the great Japanese film score composers, the importance of music in dictating the mood of a scene is clear to you.  And though, to be completely honest, the stock soundtrack  sometimes works decently with the Kong-centric moments, hearing the same cue played over Godzilla clawing his way out of a trap set by the military feels strange, even a little off-putting. The music suggests that we’re watching someone stalk through fog-shrouded woods under the light of a full moon. But we’re actually watching two titanic creatures having a wrestling match on top of a mountain. To turn this light-hearted fantasy adventure into a horror movie is so baffling I can’t even begin to wrap my head around it.

But enough of that nonsense. On to the good stuff. Your opening title track…wow! If memory serves, you rarely ever incorporated vocal work into your themes, but I literally got goosebumps hearing it for the first time.  If anything, it’s so arresting, so awesome, that the viewer can be forgiven for feeling slightly off balance once the main story kicks in, which sees the marketing director for a pharmaceutical company plot to kidnap Kong and use him as a mascot, all in the interests of boosting ratings.  It’s an unabashedly silly premise, but it never aims too low, and actually has quite a few laugh-out-loud moments, with some nice jabs of social satire. It’s an appreciated (and wise) change of pace from the unrelentingly grim tone of the first two entries in the Godzilla canon.  

What I like most about your score is that it lends weight to sequences that, in and of themselves, don’t feel all that interesting. The pounding military march in the background lends reality to the miniature tanks that assault Godzilla. The utterly ridiculous scene in which our hero’s sister stumbles through a stream as Godzilla nonchalantly hangs out hundreds of feet away feels almost exciting because of the music’s urgency.  In my favorite moment, a drunken, passed-out Kong is strung up and attached to enormous balloons, the absurdity of which, I think, speaks for itself.

That said, you could have been conducting the most talented orchestra in the world, but nothing would have been enough to distract from how tremendously ugly the Kong suit is. Do you know if anyone involved with the production was happy with how it turned out? It’s a hell of an eyesore, and yet, it doesn’t necessarily lessen the value of the finished product. It’s just a shame that many Western viewers will be unable to see the film in its purest, uncut form, and be able to truly appreciate your masterful efforts.

Yours, 

Kelan

Status: Air Mail (3.5 out of 5)