The War In Space (1977) Movie Review

Our story opens as a menacing galleon-esque spaceship descends toward the blue earth with only the glowing red eye of conquest fixed upon our planet. When space transmissions begin interrupting communication abilities across the world, members of a disbanded earth defense unit are in dire need of return. And when admired star pilot Koji Miyoshi (Kensaku Morita) returns to Japan in time to witness the alien treachery engulfing the globe, can he and his loyal team, the crew of the UNSF Gohten be more than a match for the unholy terror that is the Roman-like kingdom of Yomi? This is the core story that comprises the heft of Jun Fukuda's wild & wooly The War In Space (AKA -The Great Planet War). A late 1970's piece of TOHO space madness that  appeared in the wake of not only George Lucas' little noisemaking indie, but of a number of surprise elements.


With the second half of the decade seeming primed for a renewed interest in more romantic science fantasy, War is also looking toward anime as a means of influence. Taking a major lead from Ishiro Honda's beloved Atragon, the film is also conceptually combined with many elements borrowed from the newer-edgier science fiction favorite, Uchu Senkan Yamato to create something that could combine the special effects ingenuity of maestro, Teruyoshi Nakano, and old fashioned high drama. And while this was not something that could just so easily be conjured for live action, director Fukuda and crew give it the ol' college try, and deliver some sincere, ludicrous fun. And while it pales in comparison to the works that inspired them, there is a pace and sense of energy at work here that became harder to replicate even as tokusatsu movies entered a more sophisticated era.

One of the bigger components Fukuda and company heap on in the spirit of the classic space battleship, it's in its cast, and an unabashed lean toward the cartoonishly dramatic. Miyoshi's investment as the story's central character is very much in the classic hero vein, complete with return home from afar, and with unresolved issues. From a long-neglected love, to a best buddy with wedding plans for said love. It's all compounded by the ever-popular mechanic of having the elder chief of the Gohten be the father of Jun(Yuko Asano), who comes along for the a fateful mission to Venus the newly reformed space defense force undertakes for the remainder of the film. This is perhaps as dense as the characterization for this film gets, and while the film packs on the bombastic emotions, a lot of what makes the whole thing work is in how swift the cut moves in between the ingenious effects which include some terrific ship and fighter battles. There is an undeniable desire to pay tribute to what was to become a major cornerstone of Japanese genre media for at least the next twenty years.

And all of this is especially impressive considering that films of this ilk were not in the best of budgetary shape around this period. By this point, producer, Tomoyuki Tanaka and his folks at Toho were nowhere near the giants they once were in the 1950s and 60s. And as such, War In Space is a unique work that takes great advantage of said limitations by either reusing a lot of model shots, some questionably poor monster costume choices, or just having plenty of events happen offscreen. And while this can be considered a minus, it also does plenty to just get us knee-deep in the moment. Even as the crew of the Gohten find themselves obligated to taking the fight to the aliens, there is little fat on these bones. It's actually a tribute to the cast and crew who play matters straight from start to finish. It's heartening to see such sobriety applied to what so easily could be a hopeless schlockfest. The whole thing is a go-for-broke wave hello to a new era of Japanese fantasy, the "Space War", which eventually became a huge part of anime in series' such as the original Gundam.


So, yes. Is this at all what it could be? No. But it hardly matters when considering the era, and the budget onhand. And there is a corporeality to all that craftsmanship on display. (there are even shots here that hint at the astounding miniature work to come in films such as Sayonara Jupiter) It truly comes from a place of inspiration and love. And the soundtrack by Toshiaki Tsushima, oozes fuzz guitar dreams and brass galore. If I had any gripes to bear regarding The War In Space, it's the lack of more Jimmy (David Perin).

Movie Review: Mechanical Violator Hakaider (1995)

Somewhere after a devastating global apocalypse, at an unspecified time, a group of scavengers stumble upon and awaken a sleeping humanoid robot kept imprisoned and wrapped in chains. In a flash, they are dispatched with frightening efficiency, and instantly this blood-stained machine hops onto his trusted motorcycle, and sets off to Jesus Town - possibly the last refuge of humanity. Only the citizens of this armed fortress city live under the beautiful bootheels of one Gurjev, and his lethal assistant robot, Michael. With their draconian use of force, and vegetable-creating microchip implantation, they have fashioned a society aligned with Gurjev's own brand of justice and harmony. Unbeknownst to them, a bike-riding messenger from the past is en route. And not necessarily bearing goals to liberate the humans of Jesus Town. Feel the burning righteous fist of Hakaider!


In the past, I have considered doing writeups I have felt would perhaps come at odds with certain fandoms, thereby alienating myself from them. But in the name of honest critical discourse, it only felt just that a personal record be set in regards to my feelings on practical special effects movie maestro, Keita Amemiya. As fun as some of his films are at a character craft level (his main claim to fame is his use of often brilliantly realized creatures, props, and stop motion. Those familiar with the Zeiram films, this is the guy responsible.), his films simply lacks any sense of dramatic flow, rhythm, or weight. They are often awkwardly staged, hypnotic works, and not in a good way. Often times, the bulk of his work seem more attenuated toward tokusatsu fans, and enthusiasts of finely crafted creatures and machines, offering little else to the proceedings. And in the case of Hakaider, this is made threefold, as it becomes glaringly clear that despite being inspired by the works of manga legend, Shotaro Ishinomori, there is nowhere near enough budget or script for Amemiya and crew to even begin working with.



For starters, as something of a side story to the title character who is the arch rival of the one and only Kikaider, there is little to no real exposition laid out for anything in the piece, which largely consists of Hakaider riding his bike somewhere, only to be stopped, start fighting, kill everyone, and then continue toward the city. The movie is just a series of events strung together by often haphazard action sequences that offer no real context for anything, except to establish that Hakaider is something of a nihilist amnesiac. He knows nothing of his past before the events displayed here, and only seems to be around to screw up anyone or anything who wanders into his path. We don't even get an idea of what's at stake, who are the real villains, or who we can even pretend to care for. Not even the innocent would-be resistance-fighter, Kaoru (Mai Hosho)can truly serve as audience surrogate when it seems that all of her dialogue seems to have been summoned up on the spot- right on down to completely puzzling notions involving "becoming a bride". This lack of any real structure gives Hakaider a glacial, frustrating vibe that is only remedied by its clearly unintentional laughs.(not to mention groans when the film attempts humor-most notably an out of nowhere shot of Kaoru's scrapper companions simultaneously chewing gum, when clearly some setup was required but did not have) And when considering Amemiya's previous body of work, this is really saying something.



Digging even deeper, I'd even postulate that this was a project that was essentially hoisted upon the director, and in turn, the film is possibly a glimpse into his psyche as he attempts to stem the tide of mid-1990s manga tropes that he possibly doesn't, or isn't interested in understanding. That's right. We may have a film that feaures a number of visual fluorishes that are highly indicative of the era (Visual Kei fashion, faux-goth imagery, tons of feathers), they come at a clip that in many ways implies a certain disdain for them. As if these ideas were implemented via committee despite the director's wishes. The general phoniness of it all, runs concurrent with the entire film's lack of overall energy. All the angel wings, and co-opted bishonen evoke images of the works of CLAMP, Kaori Yuki, and even Tetsuya Nomura, in some halfhearted attempt to invite a new demographic to the film, do nothing to ground the film in any manner of actual flair or style. It's all far too limp to even bother.


So when all one has left are Amemiya's mechanical concepts, and action scenes, one cannot help but feel like these are the only reasons for the film's existence. And even then, perhaps surprisingly, the action choreography is even more weightless and hollow than usual. So the majority of the film comprises of this manner of scraping for anything, and in my estimation, it's again the design work, particularly of the mechanized second in command, Michael, that steals the show. Gurjev's mechanical (?) army is relatively flimsy. And Hakaider's overall design is decent, albeit pretty standard despite his glowing brain, and green grimace.

And as mentioned, the biggest issue that plagues the entire affair, is a general lack of real exposition, or motivation behind any of the characters and their actions. The closest to any agency we actually witness is from Gurjev and Michael. (Especially Michael,who actually seems to genuinely wish to do right by his master. One cannot help but feel as if he could strike out on his own here, but alas..) Hakaider never really gets explored despite his supposed importance be it in machine or humanoid form. All we get from him is that he's something of an id pressure valve for a director clawing for a reason to make this film. And while this may seem unfair to say, it's the only reasonable explaination for all the dark machine does in the whole 90-minutes we are witness to. We know he likes to beat up and often kill those without agency of their own, and can burn flowers just by walking past them. And that's about it. Even his final showdown with the pretty boy dictator, and his robo-buddy cannot escape the oodles of awkward spewing forth throughout. If one cannot laugh, how can one survive? Without it, Amemiya's paean to one of tokusatsu's greatest antiheroes is not terribly different from the Magic Eye paintings from the same era whence it came. Nothingness that isn't afraid to stare back into you. But I guess those who don't mind their nothingness with a cool-looking winged robot might be fine with it.

Sayonara Jupiter (1984) Movie Review

In a far flung space faring future (2140 AD), humanity has expanded beyond the confines of Earth, and is at a crossroads in regards to energy consumption as colonies continue to expand throughout the Sol system. A confident and able consortium spanning all known nations has been planning and ready to execute a daring and controversial plan to create a second sun out of hulking planet Jupiter. Led by chief scientist, Eiji Honda (Tomokazu Miura), the massive JS Project is about to run across a galaxy of challenges. Including intervention by anti-space radicals led by a charismatic folk singer on Earth, (among their ranks an old flame of Honda’s) a sudden appearance of a black hole preparing to consume the system, Earth included. And even there are the eerie clues to an ancient alien civilization, as well as evidence of a craft somewhere deep within the storms of the system’s largest world. And then there’s the shark…seriously. 

If at least half of this description sounds familiar, don’t be afraid. Koji Hashimoto’s sprawling space epic for the then struggling TOHO studios remains Arthur C. Clarke & George Lucas by way some serious pipe fodder, and some of Japan’s most ambitious film craftspeople . And by that measure, the film can easily be seen as an important moment in the nation’s science fiction/tokusatsu identity, if not in anything resembling halfway sane storytelling. It is on one level, a truly remarkable piece of international genre filmmaking synergy featuring some of the most diverse casting ever assembled for a Japanese film; with many actors even speaking their lines to one another in diverging languages including English, French, & German. And the effects work comprised mostly of optical and model work, are amongst the most singular in the industry’s history. The influence of western film permeates virtually every frame of it, and also carries with it the kind of high ambition it’s home culture was beginning to exhibit writ large during the early 1980s. In fact, it’s hard to imagine another film that embodies the “go-go Japan” feeling more than Sayonara Jupiter, as its lead character in Miura assuredly maintains his faith in humanity’s need to shepherd nature into a path for a better tomorrow for a more needy humanity to regardless of those resistant to any grand change at the hands of scientists.

And even after all this talk of what makes the film such a treat, historically..One must also make clear that Sayonara Jupiter also has the distinction of being often hilariously silly, and borderline frustrating. As much craft and resourcefulness is on display, it cannot override the tonal rollercoaster the film is. Likely borne out of this unerring need to compete, the story careens from one plot to the next, often with little rhyme or reason, sometimes even stopping completely for any number of absurd stops that remain just mind boggling. Examples include an early scene when Honda’s american compatriot Kinne (Irwin Ron, who looks a lot like a bearded Matthew Lillard) kills time before a mission by settling down and watching Gojira and King Ghidorah duke it out. (Hey, look! Even gaijin love Gojira!) This is only made all the more bizarre, when somewhere else on the main JS ship, anti-space protesters disguised as tourist types reveal themselves to incite a riot (which is then intercut with shots of an angry king kaiju!!?). No sooner does this strange turn in the film happen, that Honda is reunited with Maria (Diane Dangley) which almost immediately leads to a truly one of a kind zero gravity lovemaking/flight/plead & argument session. I wish I were making this up.

And without delving too much further into the film’s story; as the film is in many ways more a showcase for effects, and a hopeful future vision rather than anything else, one must also make mention of a scene where after having had to send the offending protesters off the ship, and sabotage is blamed for the death of a major crewmember, Honda decides to visit the beachside paradise home of singer, Peter (Paul Tagawa) and his followers in hopes of pleading for the end of any further violent actions upon the JS project. It perhaps might be best to know that Peter’s beliefs regarding man’s earthbound destiny is also represented in a dolphin mascot…also named, Jupiter. In a moment that practically defines to all cinema the real meaning of hamfisted, Honda is forced into making science’s point when a shark attacks Jupiter. His need to not only kill the rubbery predator, but to fail in saving the life of the sea mammal does everything to stop the film dead in its tracks, if only to make a point that much of the counterculture takes so little into account. As the earth, and several worlds are in deep peril, it is man’s ability to rise to the occasion despite the odds that defines it. The big problem comes when one remembers, we are in a SPACE MOVIE. As well-intended as this whole scene is, it truly feels copped from a completely different film. In fact, most to all of the Peter-cult material seems horrendously out of place, which threatens to hurt everything else. And yet, even then, more oddness remains in the waiting, including laser-toting terrorists, a gargantuan spacecraft that looks Zentraedi and sounds like humpback whales, and a last ditch effort complete with self-sacrifice and painfully awkward finale for measure.

Initial stories inform that the original impetus for the film was when Tomoyuki Tanaka saw the original Star Wars in 1977, and wanted his own rendition made. And through the eyes of Hashimoto, and writer , Sakyo Komatsu, we are host to a film that just wants to be virtually every space opera made over the 20 years leading to it. The visual echoes of Kubrick are solid in places, particularly in the opening moments which are filled with detailed and drawn out shots of impressive spacecraft, as well as interiors. Only in a high-ideal film such as this can we get an early shot of a young seemingly american stewardess in a kimono answering passenger questions in a transport, taking place upside down. American pilots reaching destination only to partake of McDonald’s in zero grav. There is even a pint-sized genius in boy scientist Carlos Angeles (Marc Panthona) who is Honda’s right hand in the dangerous JS Project. 

The film’s influence can also be widely felt within the worlds of Japanese anime. (Macross fans take note, much of the score is by Shintaro Haneda who was working on this film around the time of the legendary Do You Remember Love? Feature- which is why a few tracks contain similar to exact moments) And with names like Tokyo-3, as well as a large-scale evacuation of Earth due to an oncoming calamity, it’s no small thing to believe that this made an impact regardless of story. It remains a beloved film, and on a production level, it is understandable.

With an unprecedented cast of internationals (many of whom were clearly not actors by trade), and an openness to leaving some languages intact, while others are dubbed over, Sayonara Jupiter is the kind of genre film that could only have come from the early 1980s. And much like a 1970s disaster movie, it simply attempts to be too much of everything to everyone, which makes for a truly surreal viewing experience. And perhaps in this “cranked to 13” sense, the film can also be seen as something of a one-of-a-kind camp classic. And for this, it truly wins some outstanding prizes. There is a lot of noteorthy history within the world of Sayonara Jupiter, just don’t expect hard, dramatic science fiction to be among the highlights.

Into The Wild Reviews: Gamera Guardian Of The Universe (1995)

"Sometimes you gotta fight for your right to have a monster!"  - Tori Amos

Upon first venturing this blog as an extension of the wall of busy that I often find myself chasing regularly, one of the prime inspirations was that of my love of not only reviewing the kinds of movies and media that pique the curiosity, but also of favorites from years past. Which leads to the site's namesake which hopefully aptly describes the often scattershot focus of material covered, as well as my adoration for old Japanese genre works which played almost ritualistically in the family home as a child. This upcoming review, while of a film reboot made over sixteen years ago, helps represent a major shift in not only how I enjoyed this style of work, but of how I looked at it in a broader context. As often as some may gripe about my giving giant monster movies a pass, while megadollar Disney revisions a brutal shaft, it's important to consider the mighty word..intent..

                                  Hard to believe it's been sixteen years since the theatrical re-interpretation of Daiei's rocket powered, hard-shelled answer to the big G hit Japanese screens with a more than welcome reception, and granted the classic kaiju feature a spectacular new visual arsenal. Combining the sure-handed direction of former Nikkatsu director, Shusuke Kaneko (later known for his films based upon the popular Death Note manga series), alongside former Gainax luminary & storyboard mastermind, Shinji Higuchi, and featuring script by Mamoru Oshii stalwart, Kazunori Ito, this version of the often laughable Gamera franchise that started in the wake of a Gojira-taming period in the 1960s, is a much more serious, kinetic affair that gives the origin of the legendary "Friend To All Children" a refreshing spin.

Beginning somewhere south of Japan, near the Philippines, a trawler carrying a hidden cache of plutonium runs into what is initially assumed to be a strange, "moving" atoll. Upon closer inspection, the so-called mini-island hosts dozens upon dozens of metallic mitama-shaped objects that are naturally collected, until crew members run across a stone slab covered in archaic writing inscribed into it. But after a few pictures are taken, and before further analysis could be made, a tremor hits the atoll, destroying the slab and throwing crew members into the ocean where one of them for a brief moment sees the terrifying vision of this questionable island...staring right back at them.

As this bizarre discovery unfolds, other nearby islands are experiencing attacks by what some are calling giant birds. The discovery enlists the expertise of scientist Mayumi Nagamine (Shinobu Nakayama of Fist Of Legend & Rakutenshi fame) with the assistance of bumbling inspector Osako (Yukijiro Hotaru), to which they help piece together the mystery that these two grand scale events are (surprise!) directly co-related. Soon, both investigating parties convene, while one of the investigators hands one of the many found mitama-amulets from earlier to the daughter of head sleuth, Kusanagi. And it is here, that the connection between child and you-know-who comes into play. And not a moment too soon as the flying enemy (behold, the return of fan favorite, Gyaos!) is on the advance(and possibly growing in number), and no military force seems capable of stopping them!

Not if this shellfull of turtle-meated badassedness has anything to say about it.

And that's pretty much the plot of this initial entry, which pretty much sticks to the formula of many a kaiju favorite. But what Gamera: Guardian Of The Universe lacks in terms of story nuance, it more than makes up for in sheer energy, and visual punch. Even as a costumed actors-in-suits rolling around detailed miniatures are concerned, the craft, cinematography, and editing congeal in ways that the Heisei Gojira films just weren't delivering at the time. There is a gravity and energy to the monster battles in this piece that while still scream toy set disaster time at the playpen, there is also a true feeling of enthusiasm for the work that truly goes a long way for films of this ilk. There is even a "humans attempt large scale plan to save Tokyo" sequence that works to nice effect. And while the Gyaos closeup effects resemble little more than done-up hand puppets at times, the articulation is much more versatile than its previous appearance in Gamera Vs. Gyaos in 1967. We even have a spirited take on the "attack the local train line" scene, which works.There are even some aerial battles here that are pretty reminiscent of indelible images from the classic Gainax anime, Shin Seiki Evangelion. And possibly the biggest standout image of them all is of a Gyaos perched into a nest-like crater made out of the Tokyo Tower as the sun grants us a startling visage.

Of the new decisions made to this rendition of the monsters, the concept that Gamera was in fact created to counter the advance of the also human-made Gyaos hordes is an interesting switch to the admittedly throwaway ancient god idea of the original. Adding a dose of ecological message not only granted Gamera a timeliness closer in tone to the original Gojira, but it also plants humanity square in the moral quagmire, as Gyaos was initially designed to cleanse the Earth from polluting forces. It makes Gamera on one hand our guardian, but it also makes the viewer wonder to which extent does this trust stretch. The implication that our bond with the legendary turtle is tentative at best helps set up a new franchise nicely.

And what of the human element in the film? Again, as far as these films tend to go, the humans are rarely given much shrift to work with, and with this one it's no exception. The acting is hammy at best, and awkward at worst. Which for most other films would be the kiss of death. But for this writer, this comes as no real shakes since when one considers it, kaiju, as well as most tokusatsu films are known for stilted acting, and occasional screen mugging (the classic "gasp" look always comes to mind). In fact, it has become part of the vernacular. When one watches a Kaneko film, or any other piece from the JFX world, it's almost expected. Regardless, the presence of Nakayama & veteran Onodera as Naoya Kusanagi are more than welcome. But even if little is done with the character, the real standout is Ayako Fujitani (Shiki-Jitsu) who's mostly unspoken connection with the heroic creature still carries visual impact. (Could it be the stare? Sidenote: Fujitani is also widely known as the daughter of the one-and-only Steven Segal) 

Another thing one can't help noticing this go-round is the multiple nods made to other films made around the time of the film's 1995 release. And when one thinks giant reptilian creatures on a rampage, and munching down on anything running on two legs, one can only really consider Jurassic Park(1993) for the expected samples. From the gag-inducing diet-check scene, to even a few snatches of Kou Otani's otherwise excellent score, it's clear that Kaneko & Co. took big notice of Spielberg's CG-drowned monsterfest.

So the first entry into Gamera's Heisei Era remains something of a kaiju classic. And while it still requires quite a bit more seriousness, and power to match that of the Great heavyweight, Gamera: Guardian Of The Universe at sixteen years continues to be a wholly entertaining marriage of FX schools, and genre era. It's cheeky enough for some great laughs, but it also offers some serious bang for monster-loving buck. Of the big G is still the king, then little G is the immovable prince. And with three more movies (including a well-noted "fan film", and a more recent "inspired"-style piece.) it was clear that this Testudine icon still bore some fire within.