6/8/14 (Part One): Where is Mothra’s Power of Attorney?

Tags

1960's films, Akira Kubo, Akira Takarada, alternate title, astronauts, auteur theory, cinema, Emi Ito, fighting monsters, Film auteurs, film franchise, film reviews, films, Ghidorah, giant monsters, giant moth, Godzilla, Godzilla film, Godzilla films, Godzilla vs Monster Zero, Godzilla vs Mothra, Godzilla vs The Thing, Hiroshi Koizumi, Invasion of Astro Monster, Ishiro Honda, Japan, Japanese cinema, Jun Tazaki, Kenji Sahara, Kumi Mizuno, Mario Bava, monster movies, Monster Zero, Mothra, Mothra Island, Movies, Nick Adams, nuclear radiation, Planet of the Vampires, Planet X, Rodan, sci-fi, science-fiction, taking over the world, tropical islands, Yoshifumi Tajima, Yoshio Tsuchiya, Yu Fujiki, Yumi Ito, Yuriko Hoshi

While I’ve never been as big a fan of him as I am of King Kong or the Kraken, I’ve always enjoyed Godzilla films over the years. While the Toho Godzilla films tended to range in quality and focus over the years (at least as far as I’m concerned), there are a few that have managed to stake out their individual claims on my movie-loving heart. In particular, I’ve always been fond of Godzilla vs Mothra (1964), which features a fairly nutso storyline that manages to ape King Kong (1933) in more ways than one and Godzilla vs Monster Zero (1965), an even battier film that welds Planet of the Vampires (1965)-era Mario Bava to more traditional American ’50s sci-fi. Even though neither film is what I would call amazing, I’ve spent countless rainy afternoons watching them, over the years, and never cease to be entertained.

Godzilla vs Mothra (alt title: Godzilla vs the Thing) bears the benefit of featuring one of Godzilla’s more infamous opponents: the enormous, titular moth. Mothra leaves the relative comforts of its island (Mothra Island) where it’s worshipped like a god (probably because it has an island named after it) and travels to mainland Japan in order to retrieve one of its missing eggs. A recent typhoon (featuring some genuinely cool storm effects) ripped the egg away from the island, depositing it onto the shore where reporter Ichiro Sakai (Akira Takarada) and photographer Yoka Nakanishi (Yuriko Hoshi) just happen to be covering some storm-related flooding. The greedy locals quickly sell the massive egg to a local entrepeneur, Kumayama (Yoshifumi Tajima), who conspires to build a large amusement park around the egg and charge exorbitant admission prices. Kumayama is working hand-in-hand with Banzo Torahata (Kenji Sahara), an even shadier land developer. The twin fairies Shobijin (Emi and Yumi Ito) show up to try to convince the developers to do the right thing and give Mothra Island back their egg but are nearly captured for their troubles. When Sakai, Nakanishi and their new ally, Professor Miura (Hiroshi Koizumi), try to help the fairies appeal to the villains, they are met with the classic request to “provide Mothra’s power of attorney for the egg.” Looks like this is about to go…to the People’s Court.

This wouldn’t be a Godzilla film without the big green guy, however, and it seems that the rampaging typhoon also disturbed his resting place. In short order, Godzilla is stomping about Tokyo, destroying things left and right and generally making a colossal pain in the ass out of himself. When all attempts to subdue/kill/get Godzilla’s attention, someone has the bright idea to see if Mothra might be able to help. As can be expected, however, the folks of Mothra Island are a little bit peeved at the mainlanders and don’t see much reason to lend them their all-powerful moth god. Will Sakai and the Professor be able to convince the people of Mothra Island to give them another chance, even though they’re selfish jerks? Will the aging Mothra be able to summon enough fury to kick the crap out of the big radioactive lizard one last time? Will Reporter Jiro Nakamura (Yu Fujiki) be able to stop eating eggs long enough to cover any of this unfolding chaos?

As previously mentioned, the basic plot and several additional elements of Godzilla vs Mothra definitely owe a debt to King Kong. Mothra Island is similar to the primitive Kong Island, complete with natives doing mysterious rituals, while the “captive egg” and surrounding media circus aspect are pretty easy to peg. Mothra Island is a pretty great location, to be honest, full of strange bleached bones, hypnotic chanting and tropical beauty. It makes a nice contrast to the mainland locations and provides for some nice contrast between the more primitive islanders and the modernized city folks, especially the brash young reporter. The scene where the fairies sing the song to Mothra is hauntingly beautiful, evoking a smoky, mysterious atmosphere that would seem to be at home in either a dark night club or a giant moth’s place of residence.

There are also plenty of genuinely funny moments sprinkled throughout the film, whether the ongoing joke of Jiro’s constant egg eating (this never got old for me) or the His Girl Friday (1940)-esque banter between Sakai and Nakanishi. I also like the surprisingly dark edge that Kenji Sahara brings to the proceedings as the genuinely dangerous Torahata: he doesn’t come across as goofy which provides a nice counterbalance to Tajima’s more bafoonish performance as Kumayama. The rest of the cast is pretty good, with Takarada proving a capable hero and director Ishiro Honda’s direction is typically assured throughout. If I had any complaints, really, it would have to be that the climatic battle between Godzilla and the larvae gets to be kind of tedious: it seems like we watch them spray silk on Godzilla for at least a few weeks, if not longer, and this gives the otherwise kinetic film a rather deflated ending.  Nonetheless, there’s a reason that Godzilla vs Mothra tends to be one of the most widely recognized and liked Godzilla films: it’s a fast, fun romp that’s light on big concepts but heavy on well-filmed destruction.

On the other end of the spectrum from Godzilla vs Mothra, we have Godzilla vs Monster Zero. Here, the P.T. Barnum influence from the first has been replaced by a more daffy, 1960’s swingin’-cocktail kind of sci-fi, the kind perfectly exemplified by Mario Bava’s pioneering Planet of the Vampires. The emphasis here is on strange alien worlds, as the Earth makes contact with a mysterious planet dubbed Planet X. Heroic astronauts Glenn (Nick Adams) and Fuji (Godzilla vs Mothra’s Akira Takarada) are the first earthlings to make contact with the Xers and they find the aliens to be cordial, technologically advanced and in need of a bit of help. It seems that the tyrannical, three-headed dragon Ghidorah (known as Monster Zero to the Xers) rules the surface of their planet, forcing the Xers to live underground. If the humans will be so kind as to lend the Xers Godzilla and Rodan, they’ll be able to use the monsters (known to them as Monsters One and Two) to chase Monster Zero away, allowing them to reclaim the surface. In exchange, the Xers will give Earth a formula for a medicine that will cure all know ailments. Too good to be true, eh?

The plot thickens as nerdy inventor Tetsuo Teri (Akira Kubo), who just happens to be dating astronaut Fuji’s sister, Haruno (Keiko Sawai), runs into some strangeness with the noise-emitting device that he just sold to an educational toy company. The company rep, Miss Namikawa (Kumi Mizuno), seems to be stonewalling Tetsuo: she’s also dating Glenn, which makes everyone’s private lives as intricately intertwined as an Escher drawing. When Glenn and Fuji see the supposedly benevolent Controller of Planet X (Yoshio Tsuchiya) on Earth, they begin to think things are a little fishy. And they are, of course, although no one realizes this until Godzilla and Rodan have already been sent to Planet X, where the Controller turns around and threatens Earth with the combined might of Monsters Zero, One and Two. If Earth doesn’t agree to become a colony of Planet X, the whole place will be destroyed by the radio-wave-controlled monsters. It’s up to Glenn, Fuji and Tetsuo to figure out a way to thwart the Xers and save the people of Earth from three very pissed-off monsters.

As a huge fan of Mario Bava (Planet of the Vampires is easily one of my favorite sci-fi films), I absolutely love the “Bava-lite” atmosphere that can be found all over Godzilla vs Monster Zero. From the coolly retro space-suits and electronics to the vivid glowing elevators that bring people to the surface of Planet X, the film is a marvel of set design and is pure eye-candy from beginning to end. Toss in some pretty great monster designs (in particular, Ghidorah looks absolutely terrifying during his initial appearance) and you have what definitely has to be one of the best-looking Godzilla films. As with Godzilla vs Mothra, the performances are universally solid, although they tend to be a bit pulpier and hammier than the previous film (in particular, Glenn is a real jewel, prone to plenty of great lines like “You rats! You dirty, stinking rats!”). Takarada turns in another self-assured lead performance, although his Fuji is an even bigger shithead than Sakai was.

The colonialism subplot is an interesting one, especially during the scene where the people of Earth begin to choose sides: pro-X or anti-X. Rather than being buried in the subtext, the colonialism aspect is pushed right to the forefront, making this a film that’s as much about overcoming an oppressive outside force as it is about subduing Godzilla. In fact, Godzilla and Rodan (incidental damages notwithstanding) definitely function more as anti-heroes than straight-up bad guys, with the denizens of Planet X taking the “black hat” role. It’s another interesting aspect of the film that seems to distance it from other Godzilla films a bit, making it seem a little more “mature” even as the sci-fi aspects become more outlandish and pronounced. As with Godzilla vs Mothra, Ishiro Honda’s direction is self-assured and there are several standout moments: in particular, the scene where Godzilla and Rodan are raised from their respective watery resting places is quite a sight to behold.

As with Godzilla vs Mothra, there are minor quibbles to be found throughout the film. Some of the stereotypical ’50s sci-fi stuff can get more than a little cheesy, for example, and Godzilla had an unfortunate tendency to do a “Super Bowl Shuffle”-type endzone dance whenever he was victorious that positively drove me up the wall. That being said, Godzilla vs Monster Zero is a fun, fairly unique and reasonably exciting entry in the Godzilla canon. For the hell of it, put this on a double-bill with Bava’s Planet of the Vampires sometime and tell me there’s not some kind of weird synergy going on there.

1/25/14: The Father of the Giallo

Tags

1960's films, Alfred Hitchcock, auteur theory, cinema, Dario Argento, Film, Film auteurs, foreign films, giallo, Italian cinema, John Saxon, Mario Bava, Movies, murder-mystery, suspense, The Evil Eye, The Girl Who Knew Too Much

As a huge fan of Italian cinema, particularly in its glorious ’50s-’70s heyday, there are a few auteurs that I hold especially dear to my heart: Sergio Leone, Federico Fellini, Vittorio de Sica and, of course, Mario Bava. As spiritual (and technical) forefather to the more extreme Italian horror directors that would follow, including his own son Lamberto, Dario Argento, Lucio Fulci, Umberto Lenzi, and Michele Soavi, Bava was a fascinating bridge between more classical filmmaking styles and the rougher, edgier fare that would begin to permeate the genre by the mid-’70s.

If Bava, himself, was a transitional figure in Italian cinema, than his 1963 mystery The Girl Who Knew Too Much (cut and re-released in America as The Evil Eye, which should be summarily avoided) functioned as a transitional film within his own catalog. For one thing, The Girl Who Knew Too Much would be Bava’s last black and white film: his very next release would be the landmark anthology film Black Sabbath, marking his first foray into the world of Technicolor. This might have been sad news for those who looked forward to another black and white world as lush and atmospheric as the one presented in Black Sunday but it also opened the door wide for my personal favorite Bava film, Planet of the Vampires: this cotton-candy nightmare was a direct inspiration for Ridley Scott’s Alien and should be required viewing for anyone who has even a passing interest in cinematic sci-fi.

More importantly, however, The Girl Who Knew Too Much is generally regarded as the first giallo, although it’s a much more gentle affair than any of the films that would follow it. Bava’s best giallo is probably Blood and Black Lace, since I’ve always considered Bay of Blood to be a proto-slasher as opposed to a true giallo. Although Bava would only make two giallos in his long career (three if you count Five Dolls for an August Moon but that’s more bizarro spy story than anything else), he would serve as an undeniable influence on the man who would become the undisputed master of the giallo: Dario Argento.

But enough backstory, already: how about the actual film? While it may be of slightly more interest historically, The Girl Who Knew Too Much still holds up today as a pleasant, if slightly weightless, mystery/thriller.  Nora, an American tourist, is on a vacation in Rome when things begin to get a little crazy. She’s come to stay with Ethel, a dear old friend who also happens to have a bad heart. Handsome Dr. Marcello Bassi (John Saxon, making about as effective an Italian here as he made a Mexican in Joe Kidd) is taking care of her but, alas, Ethel is not long for this world: that night, she passes away before Nora can administer her medicine.

After imagining that Ethel’s body has inexplicably moved (shades of Black Sabbath), Nora runs in terror from the house, only to get mugged and knocked unconscious. When she comes to, she witnesses what appears to be a man killing a woman before dragging her body away. Not sure whether this is all real or the result of head trauma, Nora pursues the mystery, dragging new beau Marcello along for the ride. Along the way, she meets Laura, a strange friend of Ethel’s and a shadowy reporter named Landini, either one of whom may have more to do with the mystery than they let on. Has Nora actually witnessed a murder? Could she have seen a ghost? Who keeps sneaking around her house at night? And what, if anything, does a hobo’s daughter have to do with anything?

While not a mind-blowing film, The Girl Who Knew Too Much is quite good, reminding me more than once of a Bava homage to Alfred Hitchcock. Even the title seems to reference Hitchcock’s own The Man Who Knew Too Much. One scene, at the beginning, made me think directly of the suspense master: Nora has (inadvertently) been carrying around a cigarette pack full of marijuana and realizes it just as she is about to go through security. We watch as she slowly works the pack out of her pocket and drops it, centimeter by centimeter down her leg, lower and lower, until it finally drops onto the floor. Relieved, she walks away, only to have a friendly security guard immediately hand her back the pack she “dropped.” It’s a genius moment and I could practically feel ol’ Alfred grinning from the afterlife.

There’s another nice moment where Nora sets up a trap that she read about in a mystery novel. She decides that it’s safe to try the trap, since the novel has yet to be published in Italy. “Killers don’t read mystery novels,” the narrator helpfully adds, putting the audience at ease.  Poor John Saxon getting caught in the elaborate web of strings and tripwires when he goes to check on Nora is, if you think about it, the only acceptable way for that situation to end. There’s also a great reveal as the camera swoops through a closed-door, showing the audience a photograph that would explain everything to Nora…if she could only swoop through that locked door, of course.

All in all, The Girl Who Knew Too Much is a good film, filled with some decent performances, some great music (the opening theme is so brassy and sleazy that I automatically figured this would be grittier than it really is) and a pretty lo-cal, Scooby Doo-ish mystery. As a work that not only gestured at Bava’s past but also pointed towards his epic future, The Girl Who Knew Too Much is important for not just Bava completeists but anyone interested in Italian cinema, in general.

Just remember: be sure not to accept strange packs of cigarettes from handsome strangers on airplanes. As Nora found out, that’s always how trouble starts.