Godzilla vs. Megalon (1973)

Exactly 40 minutes into Godzilla vs. Megalon, I stopped screaming about how bad it was, acknowledged that I was watching a Showa-era Godzilla movie, and sat back to relax. Guess what? I truly enjoyed it! That isn't how I felt when I first saw it at the Trail Drive-In sometime after its initial United States release. For years, I have despised the movie without ever giving it a second chance. Surprisingly, it appeals to the child in me now, perhaps the child that never really existed when I was growing up.

Yeah, this never happens.  The movie takes place in Japan.  But wouldn't it be awesome?

What happens at 40 minutes into Godzilla vs. Megalon is that the father and son heroes of the movie are held captive in a metal storage box on the back of a truck. Driven by one of the villains and backed up to a dam, the truck bed is tilted up to dump the box into the water below. But then Megalon rises over a hill, approaches the truck and bats the box into the air. The box crashes over another hill, the doors pop open and out roll the heroes with barely a scratch. Ridiculous, yes; but how much fun would that be? The scene melted my cold, critical heart.

It's a tough sell up until then, though. The father has invented a robot named Jet Jaguar that is the object of desire for the leaders of Seatopia (you can't make up this shit), an underground city partially (1/3) destroyed by nuclear testing. The Emperor of Seatopia (Robert Dunham), a hairy-backed American wearing a toga, instructs his lackeys up top to steal Jet Jaguar and reprogram him so he can lead their monster, Megalon, to Tokyo to wage a war they have no choice to start. The Emperor also contacts his friends out in "the universe" to send monster Gigan to assist.

Roll call:  Jet Jaguar, Godzilla, Gigan, Megalon

I'd love to see Godzilla vs. Megalon subtitled rather than dubbed. I don't know that it's fair to critique it based on voices that have been added after the fact. But they're really bad and it's difficult for them to not distract from the highly scientific and important story the movie is trying to tell. Add to that scenes that are a mix of live action, miniatures and stock footage, as well as monster costumes and effects that are primitive, even for the 70s, and it's not real easy to enjoy what you're watching.

But when I cut it some slack, I remembered something I tell people who complain about CGI. As you know, I read comic books. Sometimes the art is good. Sometimes the art is bad. But it's the stories I appreciate and I try to accept an artist's style, even though I may not particularly enjoy it. It's the same thing with a movie like Godzilla vs. Megalon that looks so cheesy. If I don't resist and simply accept its style, I can usually appreciate the story. (Here, the story isn't really anything to appreciate, either, but it is creative and fun.)

After Jet Jaguar breaks the villains' hold on him and becomes autonomous ("he'll operate as himself now with no orders"), he goes to Monster Island to summon Godzilla, who at this point in the franchise is now mankind's savior. When he finally arrives late in the movie, bopping into the arena like a prize fighter, it's nothing but orchestrated chaos between Megalon, Gigan, Godzilla and Jet Jaguar, who has now grown in size to equal the giant monsters. Is there correlation between fans of Godzilla and professional wrestling? The two types of entertainment seem very similar.

Here are some interesting things that happen during the battle:

• ·      Megalon and Gigan play catch with Jet Jaguar
• ·      Megalon shoots bombs out of his "mouth"
• ·      Gigan cuts Godzilla's shoulder, sending a surprising amount of blood spurting from the wound
• ·      Godzilla temporarily stops fighting to help Jet Jaguar, who later flies Godzilla to safety from a circle of fire
• ·      Jet Jaguar breaks one of Gigan's "arms", then tosses him in the air so Godzilla can spray him with his radioactive breath
• ·      Jet Jaguar holds Megalon while Godzilla slides toward him on his tail and kicks him into the air... twice
• ·      When the battle ends, Jet Jaguar (before returning to normal size) and Godzilla actually shake "hands"

The best movies end when the main character learns a lesson. After witnessing the mayhem, Inventor Goro Ibuki (Katsuhiko Sasaki) concludes, "We'll warn the scientists to be more careful in the future and leave Seatopia in peace." Wow, that's provocative. At what point did he come to that brilliant conclusion? After watching Godzilla vs. Megalon, I think I'd conclude, 'Bomb the hell out of Seatopia! And fire a nuclear missile into space while you're at it! How else are we going to get a rematch among these great monsters?"

Tomorrow: The Omen!

Explaihning the Horror Paradox: Theory #4

Explaining the Horror Paradox:  Theory #4

I began my Countdown to Halloween pondering the question of why we love horror movies. I wrote about the "horror paradox", a phenomenon where, although we find the horrific to be repulsive, we pay good money to watch it again and again. This is not a new question; it's as old as Aristotle, who addressed disgust as an emotion. Why do we enjoy ugly things? Why do we enjoy tragedy?

I've explained in previous posts that people watch horror movies as a way of coping with actual fears or violence in the world in which we live. That is a sound theory when you examine various decades in which horror movies were produced. But now I want to take a different approach and attack the question from a more specific psychological angle, independent of time and era.

Sympathizing with the Monster

In the excellent documentary, Nightmares in Red White and Blue, legendary director George A. Romero (Night of the Living Dead) and producer Roger Corman both stated that they sympathized with the monsters in horror films.  I don't believe this means they wanted to be the monsters or actually kill anyone; instead, it means they identified with them because they were characters who were tortured or betrayed.  If you fear that someone would torture or betray you, then you might identify with a monster.

This theory certainly makes sense if you look at creatures like King Kong or Frankenstein's monster.  Kong never asked to be removed from his home and he never went on an intentional killing rampage.  He was alone and scared in a strange place.  Hmmm… has a child ever been alone and scared in a strange place?  Frankenstein's monster never asked to be created.  He woke up suddenly to discover his body was now pieced together with parts of other dead bodies.  Hmmm… as his body changes, has a child ever felt like they don't belong inside it anymore?

 

 

What about creatures like the Mummy or Godzilla?  Do we identify with them?  Not exactly, but we might sympathize with their cause.  Those archeologists were warned not to open the Mummy's tomb, but they did it anyway.  Oh, well, they got what they deserved.  Godzilla doesn't really have a cause, but he's a creation of the atomic bomb.  We opened that door, so we have to live with the consequences, no matter how terrible.  You could say that, in a way, these monsters teach us a life lesson.

 

 

But what about more modern, human monsters like Hannibal Lecter or Jigsaw?  I'd be reluctant to say I identify with either one or have sympathy for them.  But maybe be we admire them because they are so smart.  Although we'd surely channel it in more positive ways, maybe we wish we were as smart as them.  Lecter may be a serial killer, but he's also a brilliant and cultured man.  Jigsaw may design unimaginable devices of torture, but heck, I can't even solve a crossword puzzle.

Vampires are an entirely different story.  Dracula himself is quite suave.  Maybe we wish we had shared the ability he has to control people?  In general, vampires are all about sex.  There's usually something intimate and erotic in the way they attack their victims.  Sometimes there's a centuries-long romance that drives their existence.  It's romantic!  These are definitely themes that have resulted in the success of today's sexy, young and sparkly vampires.

 

I again want to emphasize that experiencing any of these feelings toward monsters does not mean we  want to throw a little girl in the pond, stomp Tokyo into the ground or make a suit out of human skin.  Further, just because we like to watch Leatherface chase a pretty girl with a chainsaw does not necessarily mean we'd get the same pleasure from watching a cow be slaughtered in a meat processing plant.  Horror movies are fantasies.  We watch them so we don't have to watch the real horrors of life.

Or at least that's one theory, anyway.  Please join me during the rest of my Countdown to Halloween to explore a few more…