They Came From Shochiku: The X From Outer Space (aka Uchu Daikaiju Guirara, 1967)

Always fun to consider just how dominant TOHO studios was throughout the 1950s-the 1960s, while others did their part to have a slice of the tokusatsu/genre cinema pie. All it took, really was one giant behemoth of a lizard to send audiences into a frenzy, and the competition naturally and steadily mapped out quick ways of stealing a little of that fire. And even if those attempts weren't nearly as successful, at least they weren't in the company of the late-blooming Shochiku, who's over decade-late foray into sci-fi/horror remains something of a head scratcher. Largely important in what became known as the Japanese New Wave, the studio seemed parched for some of that profitable elixir that TOHO and DAIEI were drinking, so perhaps a little dip into more family-friendly fantasy films seemed natural. Whatever the case, Kazui Nihonmatsu's Guirara is something of a baffling curiosity, and much less an enthused entry into an already crowded genre that was quickly becoming campy kids fare.


Dispatched toward Mars after receiving bizarre signals, the international space vessel AAB Gamma encounters a shifty UFO. Helmed by a largely Japanese male team, led by Captain Sano (Toshiya Wazaki), the mission is to close in on the erratic craft. Upon closer inspection the alien ship emits a gooey plasm that sticks directly onto the AAB, which is inevitably brought back to Earth, harboring with it a spore that will grow to become quite a nuisance to the AAB crew, and the rest of Japan. Ultimately it is up to Sano, his crew (including the egregiously devoted, Lisa, played to bland perfection by American, Patricia Neal), and the powers that be to repel the advance of space monster Guilala before he really makes a mess. All the while, the soundtrack informs us either to bop happily to jazz, singing the praises of space, or cowering in monotone fear. That's right..to the tune of TWO songs.


So, when considering the overall feel and rhythm of a space age monster movie in the 1960s, languid is not the first word that comes to mind-BUT. Suffering from a pacing that seems an ill-fit for such a genre in this era, Guilala never seems to find itself off the ground. From the launch, the investigation, and the love subplot involving our lead's unrequited love on a moonbase, nearly everything is either treated like a vacation or an afterthought. Adding greater salt to this particular wound are some of the more obvious cases of botched shots ever witnessed on a supposedly big studio film, and some truly lethargic performances. (Kind of hurts to witness Eiji Okada of Hiroshima, Mon Amour & Woman In The Dunes shambling along here.) It is until the stunted, overlong finale that the film seems to exhibit signs of life, and only then does it sink in just how indifferent the film as a whole really is.


This unfortunate series of events is only made moreso by the appearance of said monster, which is perhaps one of the most ill-conceived ever put on celluloid this side of parody. Once on Earth and on the rampage, one cannot help but feel sorry. Not for the people of civilization, not for the mobilized military machine that is on the receiving end, not for the much needed buildings, roads, bridges, etc. But feeling bad for the poor soul, tasked with bringing this shambling bother to life. That's right. Guilala as a stomping mad monster is a creation of unbelievably sub par proportion. From his poofy, old-school rumba singer arms, to his often painful gait, to the even sadder mashup of a shuriken-shaped head(this creature sports not one, but THREE distinguishing additions to its head from bug eyes, a snork-like protrusion, and antenna), this is a kaiju product of either too many cooks in the development kitchen, or the rough designs of a crew member's child. Tasked with the film, this is perhaps a rookie effort for a nascent crew taking on what Eiji Tsuburaya had mastered by this point. Even if one attempted to declare a certain cuteness in regards to all in display here, it is often because of how new this seems to all involved. Aside from some of the space effects(let us not start discussing the diminished gravity scenes here), a lot of this work is decent at best.


One might go ahead and consider this review to be a completely negative one, and one might be right. But the film ultimately shines as a healthy reminder of what makes kaiju films of this era most fun, and not as worthy of derision as so many critics shared at the time. Even at some of their worst, the films of Honda, Fukuda, and others carried with them an enthusiasm that went a long way. It's something that genre cinema has long struggled with - keeping a sense of fun, while offering up new reasons to watch men in suits roll around on giant dioramas. While Guilala definitely deserved a long belated shellacking with a 2008 send-up, one can also look to this destructive space spore as a lesson in what to respect in regards to the kaiju film. Imitation is far from enough. And a comfort with the absolute ridiculous is required. 

Giant Space Monster Dogora (1964) Movie Thoughts

Light and fluffy diamond caper? Fantasy film with an identity crisis? Or Ishiro Honda just milking the best out of a sorry excuse for a vacation? It's the kind of juggling act my mind performs while watching this mid-1960s offering by the kaiju master himself. More of an attempt by Toho to stretch a little outside the by-then familiar landscape of giant monsters and modeled mayhem, we have what is a mostly weird affair involving jewel thieves, the able police in hot pursuit, and a wily westerner as a mineral-hungry alien menace threatens to usurp the earth of its precious resources. Even as the opening scenes grant us promise of invasion by massive crystalline blue jellyfish, a great deal of the film's running time is centered on a chase for stolen diamonds. And as both films seemed destined to collide in some important manner, one may assume that Honda and Co. have under their sleeves a thematic sucker punch lying in wait. But sadly, this is something that never comes halfway to fruition as Dogora flounders about in search of a cohesive whole. And yet despite all this, there is a sweet attempt at making something totally unusual for the often workhorsed Honda that allows the final product to feel like a mild departure.



Not content with calling it Diamond Eating Space Squids, Dogora kind of fails to come through on nearly all it offers(but not without being a peek at something the celebrated monster filmmaker seemed eager to explore). As a japanese satellite is destroyed in orbit by a glowing blue alien force, a local chapter of organized diamond thieves find themselves at the center of an aggressive investigation. Both antagonists seemingly driven by a lust for nature's jewels, the conflicts on both land and space inevitably converge as scientists and police find themselves increasingly in over their heads.



As head Inspector Kommei (Yosuke Natsuki) and team find themselves inching closer towards understanding a bungled heist, he is almost continuously foiled by foreign interloper, Mark Jackson(played to fun effect by Robert Dunham, who seemed primed to get this character off the ground, and into a series of Jackson adventures that never happened), a mysterious, seeming thief with hidden plans and a wily disposition. While a great deal of the film touts the appearance of some truly unique alien effects and the requisite Eiji Tsuburaya magic complete with terrific model work and panicking crowds, the majority of the film is earthbound, with Kommei, and Jackson often butting heads against each other as they take on the diamond thieving gangsters. And while we do get some mild idea of what makes the gangsters tick, we never gain much of anything about the aliens enough to be compelled by any of that half of this particular mix.



On the whole, Honda and crew seem to be having a great deal of fun at least tinkering with genre outside the usual. There is even a scene here that evokes thoughts of some of the more zany early Bond adventures. Colorful and ready to take on a more caper tale, Dogora feels hobbled by a need to be this lumbering two-headed beast with little or no core focus. While one can see the eerie floating invertebrate giants in the sky as a metaphor for foreign interests, delving too greedily in the resources of other nations, it is often undermined by the film's greater lack of equilibrium. The creatures are well presented, but to what aim? As a result, the final product is this occasionally enjoyable, but ultimately minor entry in the career of one of the defining voices of monster cinema.

So in all, this space invader saga is a bit of a dud. A real shame, too as it does boast some fun images, characters and ideas. Perhaps a project that required more time to cook in the development, Dogora is Saturday matinee fodder that plays not unlike a trailer that goes on and on, never settling on a main hook or tag line. Had Honda and crew been granted a full chance to take on a more down to earth caper film, it is possible that we could have more than just a curious footnote. But alas.. 

Character Disconnect: The Mileage Of Vicarious Entertainment

When Jar-Jar spoke, and waddled across screens in 1999, I suppose this is where my toes were dipped into the mire that was a sharp public dislike for a character. In fact it was so bad, that by one week into the wide release of Star Wars Episode One, the long-eared minstrel show had become the most hated creation the franchise had ever witnessed - even in print.

So what happened? Was it the presentation? The performance? The writing?

All of the above? 

If there is any phenomenon that has haunted me time and again via the internet, it's the often sharp break some online commenters/tweeters have with characters that do not gather favor in certain works. And while characters like the one mentioned have an almost universal stain upon them, there are times when expectations run against what is a film's central conceit, creating an instant pushback from some viewers unwilling to follow along. Subjectivity aside, this is something that has long fascinated me as a fellow viewer. As one almost willing to follow any intriguing premise, it at times feels a little telling when others cannot see themselves capable of climbing aboard. Again, this is more a fascination with the phenomenon, as there have been many instances where even peers find themselves unable to enjoy similar things due to a main character that rubs them the wrong way. Whether it be a deep unwillingness on someone's part to meet a character halfway, or a simple inability to relate, this is something that often works like a line drawn in the proverbial sand for some.

And while one cannot blame another for what is something that ostensibly begins and ends with a viewer's willingness to buy into a film's choice of character angle and requisite worldview, curiosity does admittedly come creeping in from time to time. Like when a protagonist is not quite so romantic in their stand against adversity, or when it comes off at the beginning like some perceived weaker, less than flattering quantity. Some viewers find themselves less invested in characters who seem to be at a point in their evolution that feels as within some no longer, or perhaps never possible point of tangibility. Or perhaps, the very idea of a character that is less than ideal can be seen as an unquestionable deal-breaker.

Merely an observation that has long eluded. And something that I have been recently considering when looking back at films I perhaps never gave a fair shake in the past.And perhaps that is just it; some characters are not unlike choosing between titles that will or will not speak to us at any given time. Even when certain films offer up stylistic choices that are unusual, or designed to entice a certain audience, characters are an essential part of the package. So when a prospective viewer catches wind of what type of story, and therefore cast are on the roster, one can surmise (often quickly) whether or not a solid choice will be made. Some characters who grace a certain story's cast may not speak to all audiences, just as much as every thematic aim may not be for all. But sometimes it does boggle the mind when crowds walk away from characters who's flaws often reflect certain attitudes that either seem counter, or alien to some.

Because unlike what many textbooks often postulate, a great many viewers often find themselves drawn to stories in the hopes of inhabiting the lives of those less than familiar. And while it is indeed important for there to be some conduit between viewer and character, it in in a less than obvious psychological need that we view stories in hopes of a vicarious connection. To be transported into not only external, but inner worlds of those not quite so safe in lifestyles and situations. It is the core of what makes realms of genre so enticing to so many. So when film writers opt to place a character perhaps as bent and feeble as say, a very ordinary person, there are often many who find themselves ready to abandon the contract before pen is ever taken to ink. If the disconnect were guaranteed every time personal ethics or morality were an issue, shows like The Sopranos or Breaking Bad might never have seen the success they did.

Connections run the gamut from fair to rough, from sweet to vicious.

In the end, it's all about how far a viewer is willing to travel with whatever journey each work has to offer. (Hell, reality television relies on this to be the case!)

And therein lies the hope of every title that comes out onto the ether. That perhaps in time, a work that may not speak immediately to one today may more successfully do so later. Believe me, even I put off (IE- did not appreciate) films with certain thematic/character choices as a young one. Sometimes, maturity is all one needs to reconsider certain pieces of art regardless the arch of its brow.

Smoky, Yet Alive..

Reporting with signal cleared up yet again, and with tale of a most troublesome brush with a killer. Was a battle one could only run across whilst traversing the more treacherous corners and byways of life on foot. And with an enemy who's claws detach with intent to linger long after an attack. But keep in mind, that it is a killer. Not a killer of life, but rather a killer of time. (although, many may argue both being of the same ilk) A beast known for incapacitating some of the more resilient of our species. Bombarded by the best weapons imaginable, this creature finally found itself defeated and well assimilated into the Kaijyu like so many before it.

So yes, this flu was a bit of a monster.

Can't say I had ever experienced anything like it in my lifetime. And even though hospitalization was never deemed necessary, the convalescence and requisite fighting that it took to ward away symptoms was significant enough for a year's worth of job-delaying illness. More than grateful to be back among the world of the living (even though it was quite refreshing to be confined to more than one home, reading, typing, and exchanging ideas with others equally as infected for a few days), and eager to begin sharing thoughts on a great many things viewed again. So keep eyes and feelers lively, the true monster has returned, and boy is it ever hungry!

Thematic Wanderings: Musings About Her(2013)..

[Warning: Potential Spoilers for Spike Jonze's Her. Nothing terribly specific, but enough to concern the reveal-averse.]

Two viewings and a weekend later, and I still can't get Her out of my mind. Spike Jonze's singular achievement is the kind of genre-destroying work that moves the soul, and smacks of genius. It's a romantic drama that delivers the emotional nutrition as well as an effective emotional journey. And for a film that is on its face about a man who falls in love with his computer, it is a thing of sheer wonder. And as much as I would love to share a traditional review regarding all the standouts of the film from the performances, to the direction, to the visuals, nothing here can truly approximate how I feel about it, save for exploring the reverberations that are still coming off of me days after experiencing it. The poetics on display throughout grant more purview into the feelings and themes that Jonze seemed primed to provoke us with here, and they are delivered with a sensitivity that is both brutally honest and uplifting.


What stood out for me more the second time around, was how the dots connected regarding the central theme of "letting go is an ultimate expression of love". Every character is bound by some need to hold onto some vague idea of what they perceive themselves (and occasionally others) to be. For Charles(Matt Letscher), it's the vision of an ideal home, for Amy(Amy Adams), it's the image of herself in the eyes of her parents, for Kathryn(Rooney Mara), it is her own self image, and in Theo(Joaquin Phoenix), it's simply his perception of being a husband and a potential father.

Where Samantha(Scarlett Jonansson)  comes in is where Jonze's script goes into full tilt brilliance. We both know that her central conflict early on is that of her lack of a corporeal form. This haunts her to the point of making some pretty rash decisions, until she realizes that her presence is capable of things far beyond the confines of a physical body. And since this is no longer an issue, the dilemma of a being's "oneness", and classic concepts of love is called into question. Jonze seems to be questioning the nature of relationships by offering up a character without the social/ philosophical/male-centric concepts of exclusivity. It is in our innate physical limitations that many traditional mores of love and relationships tend to materialize. She is beyond anything that humans can attain by way their respective human shell, and as such represents an almost spiritual counterpoint to the pain that haunts the rest of the central cast.

This culture of exclusivity can almost be seen as the sleep binding so many characters, not to mention theoretically every other human with an OS in the film. Almost like a divine intervention, the OSs seem to come to a realization that humans are fundamentally bound by their corporeal nature - which is to say, humans tend to grasp tightly to memories/guilt in some primal need to propagate that which needs to run course like approaching and passing seasons. 

Acceptance of the self. True self acceptance. And of course, true, unflinching acceptance of another is seen by Jonze as something utterly miraculous, and yet incapable of being completely contained. Like a living, breathing organism, love is something that spouts, bulges, questions, rebels. It grants affection, inspiration, perspective, as well as a chance for growth if one allows.

She says, "Thank you for waking me up", when it was more about granting her the ability to find out more about her potential in the world. She is the spirit of love made manifest. Here to visit humankind for a time with a reminder that all of this is momentary, and that we are alive enough to revel in the moment, even if it means opening up and exposing our souls naked to another. Even if it is for a brief time.

- Magical.

2014: An Evolution Of Commentary

Started putting together another writeup when it came rumbling back that there is indeed a need for discussion of visual media to become more interactive. It just seems like the online fan community is ready for something a little more direct than what tends to be currently possible. And this is moreso than the (already?) mere realm of blogging/posting/commenting model. As wonderful, freeing, and often gratifying a method this is, numerous discussions in real life have brought about thoughts regarding what is to become of this new culture of comment that has grown in the wake of the blogosphere. Even as social networks wrangle together the anarchy of online barbs and bland platitudes, there is much to be said about a greater awareness of how stories are made and then sold to us. The psychological and social implications of this nascent world we are now typing and sharing within might just herald a new, extended language of discussion between enthusiasts, and I would like to perhaps play with the possibilities as the new year takes shape.

And perhaps the way to do this, is to embrace the speed of communications, and bring the model back to its origin by way of real-time film discussion.

And while one might assume we are talking about something akin to live streaming, a part of me wishes it would be possible to do this without the need for cumbersome keyboards, and straining eyes fixed at a small screen. As exciting as the online realm has become with these activities, a lacking element seems to be a faith in half-formed ideas. The kind that allows for greater boughs of understanding; something that the speed of "posting" tends to cancel out, often to the propagation of static arguments when all one required was a little more time to iron out a thought. As fast and efficient commentary has become in such a brief few years, it is this element of discourse that often gets lost in the mix. Almost as if imaginary doors are closed after statements are left behind on a comment board, or beneath a YouTube window, these tend to grant evidence that few methods eclipse the speed/malleable interplay of human dialogue. And while livestreaming does sound like a good possibility for Cel Count Media in the near future, the urge to experiment with something more direct and live remains pretty strong.

Not too much unlike Cinema class, a local screening with outdoor seating, preceded by intro discussion, and closed by way of post-film thematic exchange just sounds super attractive(if a bit tricky in the logistics). Yes. The Kaijyu sees 2014 as the year matters took a new, slightly more ambitious tune with the Kaijyu. And it feels like the right time to begin adding new features beyond the normal internet footprinting that happens after a few years of writing. The screening and writing feel like organic beacons to what could eventually be something published on paper. Have really been feeling a wish to expand matters onto another format for some time, and as busy as 2014 is already shaping up to be, this feels like the most appropriate time. As posts become more and more theme-driven, and reviews begin mutating into more story, idea, and communication-based, it's natural that the Kaijyu take on something slightly more challenging. Considering that my favorite film of 2013 ended up being something not quantifiable on any mechanistic level, the Kaijyu is set to wander in ways never thought possible before.

Quite excited about the coming months. For updates, Twitter is still the very best way to see what I am up to. A podcast at Cel Count is under way today, and am eager to share more hidden, wondrous things with all of you, so stay connected, and be sure to keep up with the feedback. We'd love to hear your thoughts, so keep it coming!

The Tower (2012) Movie Thoughts

Babysitter-less single dad brings his daughter to work on Xmas eve as his workplace, the newly completed Tower Sky. And this high tech duo of residential skyscrapers is filling to the brim with workers, execs, residents, and security detail as the holiday eve's grand festivities begin to ramp up. Drama is an expected norm during the holidays (To be fair, there is already much of it from the offset.). But when a helicopter accident near the upper floors sets the upper floors ablaze, it's like watching our greatest fears of nature coming back with a harsh reminder of who's boss.


Never let it be said that South Korea doesn't love generations of Hollywood spectacle. Because the director of the ill-fated monster-dreck, Sector 7, Kim Ji-hoon has gone ahead and given the world his answer to Irwin Allen with The Tower. Adorned with grand sets, impressive effects, and an insane cast, his sprawling, often impressively mounted disaster epic is probably as big a South Korean film could ever be. Perhaps the ultimate expression of "making it" in terms of numbers, The Tower is on its face a tonal superball with budget to spare. As for whether or not it is a rousing success, perhaps that best requires a little more detail. While being infinitely better than his previous, this wacky take on Gullermin's The Towering Inferno suffers from perhaps too much in the promise, and rarely enough in the final execution. It's a grand piece that flags when it should soar, and largely due to almost copping the worst instincts of American directors like Michael Bay, or even Roland Emmerich. So yes, there is also an identity crisis happening throughout that keeps the whole from grabbing like it probably should.


One place where the film does shine, is in the colorful cast representing many of the classic disaster epic archetypes. From the previously mentioned single dad working as the building's maintenance supervisor, to the veteran firefighter(Sol Kyung-gu, in a well-grounded performance) with one more Xmas eve away from his long suffering wife. We even have a love interest in the form of chinese restaurant manager played by S.Korea's "Romance Queen", Son Ye-Jin. Also along for the ride, include a fresh young firefighting rookie with much to prove, a middle-aged janitor with a teen son watching helplessly from the ground, the woefully irresponsible company president, and a young cook with trendy girl in tow. The cast itself representing over a decade-plus's worth of memorable television stars and idols screaming away in what amounts to a great demo reel for a potentially singular theme park attraction.

But a lot of where Ji-hoon and company excel, are in technical acrobatics, and some effective deathtrap images. For a film of a significantly lower budget (at roughly 10 million US), there are moments here that rival the largest Hollywood can conceivably dole out. It's not unlike planting a blazing flag atop a mountain of bigger-is-better cinematic achievement. Among the ballsiest director reel ready moments include an out of the building hair-breadth escape via a window washing gondola with too many survivors on it, and a tense walk across an unstable, nearly all glass bridge between towers. If anything undermines these scenes, it's the editing which teeters from sharp, to downright corner-cutting as tension tends to suffer as a result. Several potentially groundbreaking action moments find themselves undone by choices that could so easily have been avoided with a little faith.


Much like these issues, the story setups are well established, yet the film tends to sell itself short. There are numerous subplots, not all of which are tied up by the Bay-esque finale. In fact, many of the central plot's problems stem from a deliberate effort in the first half to establish characters we would soon see as either borderline villianous get no real comeuppance. It is such a pervasive part of the latter third, that it almost clocks as accidental theme. The problems really seep in once it becomes clear that responsibility for all of this is almost scuttled to nearly ignored. Possibly a victim of heavy cutting, such a busy film seems hellbent on maintaining a two hour running time, which it barely clocks in at. If anything is improved by this, it's the lack of irritation that often follows in the wake of Ji-hoon's inspirations. Christian jokes aside, the piece never ends up anywhere as putrid and cheap as many of america's more recent disaster fare. This, plus some pretty decent performances across the board work as saving graces if there ever were any.


Still, there is a sense of global intent which is something worth celebrating a little here. In a work that almost metaphorically resembles the central setting, there is much to hem and haw about in terms of production, but seams occasionally point toward hazards that threaten the whole. But even if it isn't a top to bottom success, there is something to be said for cinema of the world responding to H-town with such ambition and energy.  There are fewer subgenres that speak to a universal audience the way grand scale calamity does, and The Tower does its ample best to be one that not only speaks to a local audience, but to all. Once one surrenders onesself to it, it's big, loud, occasionally delirious fun. But studio pressures, derivative choices, and some real dearth of emotional involvement remain its greatest structural defects.