Viking Night: Gojira/Godzilla: King of the Monsters
By Bruce Hall
May 13, 2014
BoxOfficeProphets.com
Godzilla still holds a special place in my heart and with Gareth Edwards' reboot upon us; I felt the urge to look back. To cover all my bases, I took in both the aforementioned American version (which I haven’t seen in forever) and the original Japanese cut (which I haven’t seen in about half-forever), simply titled “Gojira”. Ishiro Honda’s original film is superior, but the American cut is very well made - each is an historic achievement in its own right and I genuinely enjoy them both. But for the sake of not tying your mind in knots, I'm going to focus on the better one and highlight the differences - like the way one has a giant, confused looking white man standing around chain smoking in almost every scene.
It's hard for us to imagine, but a lot of soul searching happened in Japan after World War II, and some of that is reflected in Gojira. Forget the later films, when Godzilla turns into Jim Belushi, and has a fat little son that's worse than a hundred Wesley Crushers. Gojira is a dead serious film about why you shouldn’t tempt nature, and it begins with a mysterious force wiping fishing boats from the sea like toys. Fishing is kind of a big deal in Japan, so the potential disruption of the national food supply starts a national panic. Villagers on the islands in the area speak ominously of a vengeful sea spirit called “Gojira”, whose job is to punish mankind when he gets too uppity. Meanwhile, Japan’s greatest minds have gathered in Tokyo to talk turkey. They appoint Dr. Kyohei Yamane (Takashi Shimura) head of a fact finding mission, and they charter a boat to investigate.
The team discovers footprints the size of swimming pools, lined with primordial ooze and buzzing with radiation. Just as they begin to suspect they might have a giant radioactive lizard on their hands Gojira appears, scares the hell out of everyone, drops the mic and leaves. Yamane determines that the use of nuclear weapons has awakened the monster and mutated him into an unstoppable, fire breathing murder machine that eats boats for breakfast. The military responds by dropping hundreds of depth charges right on top of the Gojira’s crib. The creature responds in the most awesome way possible, which is to rise out of Tokyo bay and stomp the absolute shit out of the city. Guns, tanks, planes, bombs, electricity, harsh language – all of these things just piss the beast off even more. It seems the natives were right; a wrathful force of nature has arrived to make humanity pay for its sins.
And this is where things get weird. You remember that boat Dr Yamane’s team took out to the islands? It was captained by Hideto Ogata (Akira Takarada), a hunky sailor who is having an affair with Yamane’s daughter Emiko (Momoko Kochi), who is engaged to be married to Daisuke Serizawa (Akihiko Hirata), a colleague of Yamane’s who just might be working on a super-secret science machine that can save Japan. The only catch is, Serizawa is so terrified of the device he’s created that he refuses to acknowledge its existence, lest it be perverted into a doomsday weapon. So to save the country, Emiko has to join forces with the guy she’s banging to convince her fiancé to unleash one unspeakable horror in order to destroy another. And of course, there’s the whole awkward matter of introducing your boyfriend to the man you no longer wish to marry while a giant atomic lizard reduces the city around you to rubble. Emily Post has nothing for this.
Not only is that the kind of deliciously decadent, multilayered drama you don’t usually find in a monster movie, have you noticed I haven’t mentioned the actual monster for a while? Gojira is a slow burn, brimming with long stretches of expository dialogue. You want to hate the endless scientific debates and the convoluted love triangle subplot, until you realize what an integral part of the story it all really is. These are people whose lives have been interrupted by a national disaster of unprecedented scale, and the solution to the problem requires immense personal sacrifice of them all. The game has changed, mettle must be tested and terrible decisions must be made. If you believe the worth of your victory is defined by the way in which you won, where do you set your moral boundaries? If you save yourself by unleashing ruin upon humanity, is it an honorable victory? Could this whole story be a role reversal of sorts, referencing a certain historical event involving Japan and another much more powerful foe?
Nah.
What I can tell you is that when someone decided to release this film in America, all of this had to be cut out. In 1954, nobody in this country was interested in second guessing the way World War II ended. And obviously, the concept of sex before marriage is unknown in Western culture, so that part had to be minimized as well. So changes were made and the film was edited into a faux documentary, narrated by Raymond Burr and with new footage spliced in, allowing Burr to appear as though he was part of the original film. The effect is awkward as often as its effective. Sometimes I forget about it, and sometimes it's laughably obvious that Burr isn't even on the same planet as everyone else on screen. Still, it results in a very different film that's almost as good, but for different reasons. The original is a reflection on the vagaries of war, and the value of national sacrifice. The American version is the one that’s actually about the monster.
Godzilla's climactic rampage through Tokyo is the highlight of both films, and the effects - somewhat cut rate even then – still get the job done. Yes, it’s just a guy in a rubber suit, and in fact his first appearance on screen is rather unimpressive. It’s just an animatronic contraption that twitched and jerked like a. But I would argue that the more realistic movements of an actor as opposed to a stop motion miniature only add to the film’s intensity. For atmospheric reasons Gojira was intentionally shot in black and white, and the tiny model Tokyo is so well built, that while it’s obviously a miniature, there are occasional scenes where you forget about it entirely. The sound design on this movie is stellar, and as a whole the original film feels much more like a wartime drama than low budget monster movie.
Still, the American film does an effective job of combining the new and old footage, and of taking itself just as seriously as the original. It’s actually possible to watch both versions back to back, enjoy them and come away with independent impressions. The best thing is that whether you’re watching Gojira or Godzilla, you’re bound to enjoy it more than you thought you would. For me, hearing Godzilla’s theme song - as plodding and arthritic as the big guy himself - as he stomps buildings, eats trains and swats planes out of the air was as satisfying today as it was when I was six. Classic movies tend to hold up narratively, if not tonally, and they make it easy for you to suspend disbelief and accept what you see. Gojira/Godzilla does both - so before you check out the reboot, check out the original – a solid example of how to make two good movies out of one, should the need ever arise.