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).

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.

Criterion's Godzilla Release Is Here!

What are you doing, reading this post? Unless you haven't picked up your copy of Criterion's much anticipated release of Ishiro Honda's unrivaled classic, I'm not sure there's much of anything for you to see here since I still need to get my hands on one. Regardless, word regarding this wholly new treatment has been wildly enthusiastic (try even this USA Today piece featuring some glowing words by August Ragone). And since the film itself remains one of the most formative moments in the lives of many film lovers the world over, what more enticement do you need?

When Co-Productions Attack!: Latitude Zero (1969)

 

Ooohboy...

One of the core ideas behind the creation of The Wandering Kaijyu has been the exploration of pop culture's seemingly endlessly subterranean fascination with one of my childhood obsessions, the Japanese tokusatsu fantasy realm. Something that many readers may have approached these pages, only to be disappointed that I have only scratched the surface of this topic. So perhaps it's best to come out here, and admit that while I love the stuff, there's a great gulf of material that I have either never had the time to explore, or ability to obtain it. Also, knowing that the internet has an already solid army of authorities on the worlds of Japanese genre film, it only felt natural that this blog be something more of a celebration of multiple obsessions, hopefully in the name of all-inclusiveness in a sphere that at times seems destined to sequester films/comics/artists of this ilk into their own designated cubbies.


So when Japanese studios occasionally delve into working alongside their western counterparts, I like to take a little time to chart the history of this often uneven, weird relationship. Sadly, when these projects take place, the end result is more often than not a tonally compromised work complete with awkward performances by at-times former Hollywood luminaries looking for a paycheck, or even some primed for some kind of international recognition. Some that come to mind include several Kinji Fukasaku films The Green Slime ( Ganma Daisan Go: Ushu Daisakusen - 1968), (Tora!Tora!Tora! - 1970), Message From Space(Uchu Kara No Messeji-1978), Virus (Fukkatsu No Hi - 1980). And this isn't to say that there haven't been some memorable works to come from these arrangements, many of the mentioned Fukasaku films contain a charm to them that transcend their limits. Among some of the non-Fukasaku productions that still hold a place in my heart is Masato Harada's GUNHED (1989), which despite being a bit of a derivative snore, contains some at-times impressive art design and concepts. But any way one slices it, east-west productions such as these have something of a checkered past, and cast a huge light on the cultural and spiritual rift that exists between both filmmaking styles.

Which is made quite clear in the small number of projects that occurred during the latter days of the swingin' 1960s, when Toho's already distinguished genre pioneer Ishiro Honda took on Ted Sherdeman's 1940s radio serial, Latitude Zero, to almost completely disastrous results.

Which leads me to a bit of a big confession, I had heard of this film years ago, but never had the fortune of experiencing it for myself. Now having seen it, perhaps it would be bad form to ever regret seeing it, but it was certainly difficult to get through an almost kidney-punching 105 minutes of film that felt more on par with any number of early MST3K experiments. While that at times can imply a certain amount of enjoyment, do not be misled; this is Mighty Jack without the charm. Would it not have been well-documented that the film was a troubled production from the getgo, it is likely that I would have been ready to hit the mute button just to experience the last science fiction FX work of visual giant, Eiji Tsuburaya (who fell ill during the making, leaving much of his crew to pick up the slack. He passed away soon after.).

So the story (Um..yeah) of Latitude Zero is essentially the finale of a longstanding battle between two behemoths of the superscience ilk. On the good guy corner is Captain Craig Mackenzie (played to the manly gills by an aging Joseph Cotten), helmsman of the supersubmarine, the Alpha-gou, alongside his crew of..two? And in the red corner, continuing his endless efforts to destroy Mackenzie and his undersea utopia located at (you guessed it...Latitude Zero) is the nefarious Dr. Malic (aka - Dr. Murderer, played by Cesar Romero!!) and his pouty lover, Lucretia (played by Patricia Medina). We are brought center stage to this protracted conflict via our audience surrogates in a trio including scientist, Dr. Ken Tashiro (Akira Takarada), fellow oceanographer, Jules Masson (Masumi Okada), and journalist, Perry Lawton (Richard Jaeckal). Rescued after a nearby volcanic eruption's concussive force knocks over the bathysphere the three were aboard on a research mission, the three are suddenly aboard the Alpha, and treated to the wonders beneath the ocean, and to the ongoing battle: scarves & open chest shirts Vs. flowing gowns with capes-er, good and evil. The revelation is that Mackenzie and Malic have been dueling it out for reasons unclear for nearly two centuries. And as Malic continues utilizing the commandeer abilities of one female Captain Kuroi(Hikaru Kuroki) via The Black Shark to end the Alpha once and for all, his plans to kidnap reknowned scientist, Dr. Okada and procure the secret to his latest breakthrough are moving forward with haste, leading to what could only be an ultimate showdown.

                                                                     


And despite all the words used in the last paragraph, there is no depth beyond any of this as the film careens from point to point without rhyme or reason. While it can all be considered childlike, there also seems to be a deep lack of energy to the proceedings to balance out matters. Even in many of the weaker kaiju eiga, there is at least some form of quirk, or sense of fun to keep the brain from drifting off too far, but in the case of Latitude Zero, everything is set up at the most basic level. It's so much so that one wonders how these two forces have kept any conflict going for as long as they have without killing each other numerous times. There's an almost Spy Vs. Spy logic happening here that could easily have been made into something both sly and hilarious, but played straight, is a poisonous mix. In many ways, the film feels like an extended, leisurely trailer, punctuated by a cool submarine shot, or a laugh-inducing monster. But we'll get back to that in a second.

Another egregiously awkward theme running throughout the film is a streak of philosophical defiance that the film goes out of its way to never back up. In here's it can easily be summed up with: everything the American journalist decries or opines-is wrong. As Mr. Lawton is taking photos, and investigating the no-want laden society that Mackenzie and company inhabit, it is made clear that the world he comes from is not only technologically slow to lead, but ideologically flawed. His questioning as to why the people of L.Zero have no desires, or grievances with leadership, Mackenzie's responses are often defiant to the point of smug. Now granted, to challenge ideas in film is potentially exciting, but when there's no depth to the declarations presented, it merely comes off as pompous, and ultimately shoehorned into the film. And as the script already has problems establishing character, things like this truly make the film feel off. So yeah, the individualistic, aggressive cowboy in Lawton is made to be something of an object of ridicule- which is later attempted to be the film's thematic "cornerstone", only to fall apart through an incredibly goofy finale. Silly blonde-haired, blue-eyed idealist! This'll show you! This is perhaps the most ambitious element in the film, and yet is completely bungled.


But we don't come to this film for any kind of philosophical debate, we come for the action and effects, to which I say only works in regards to the expected Tsuburaya miniatures and pyrotechnics. But when it comes to the wild and wacky creatures that appear once our heroes invade the baddie's stronghold, things just go from weird to outright laughably bad. When it comes to giant rats, fine, but once the quivering bat people come in, all bets are off for the viewers. Among the other highlight creations, my personal favorite was Malic's lion experiment involving the brain of one of his subordinates(in a bonehead move to end all bonehead moves) transferred into the beast, and then given wings(!!!) This griffin puppet must simply be seen to be fully comprehended. Thankfully, this creature doesn't get taken out by our heroes, and naturally becomes the film's desperately last second deus ex-machina-cum-disaster. If the film hasn't killed any remaining attention spans, this development alone makes the last minutes worth watching. The look of horror on the face of Cesar Romero is priceless (and possibly telling?).

And, no, I haven't even gone into the existence of the blonde Doctor Barton(Linda Haynes), and the burly Koubou, the Alpha's second in command who's only dialogue consists of "Hai kanchou!" (Japanese for "Yes, chief!"). And also no mention of Captain Kuroi's inexplicable crush on Malic, and Lucretia's seething jealousy. AND let's seriously not go into the sudden, tonally schizophrenic montage of real world imagery of world strife, and carnage near the end. The film as a whole simply feels like a classic case in both sides not completely being comfortable with each other, so some may see this, and take this as an excuse for some campy fun. It's just too bad that the film never runs with it. And this is possibly where Honda's talents might ot have made the best mix. Language barrier is one thing (the japanese actors did their best with what they had, having learned their lines phonetically), but cultural barriers are clearly a factor here. Latitude Zero, if nothing else is a good reminder of how far things have come since then, but also of how much more effort both sides must make in order to come out with a memorable, effective product.

At least we can be happy with moments like these as a reminder?

Taking On The Ultimate Monster Question...

Roughly a week and a half ago, Infant Island partner Jenny and I went right ahead and dove head on into the depths of a great mystery, and came up with one truly fun podcast for everyone to enjoy. This is one that from the creation of the Adventures podcast, I had been longing to gather data from, and it is at long last here.

Whether it be Toho's beloved behemoth, or Daiei's champion to children, there's no denying the simple power of a good giant monster film, so we decided to take them both on, with interesting results. I may have a growing affection for these films of an era long past, but hearing about them through new eyes is what it's all about.

So who wins out in the ultimate kaiju battle?

Find out here!