It is no secret that a new Godzilla
film is set to be unleashed in theaters in the next few weeks. And with
all promotional material indicating that this version has set its
sights on wiping out all memory of Roland Emmerich’s unfortunate
1998 train wreck, no doubt a rare instance of Hollywood learning from
its mistakes, it seems oddly appropriate to take some time to address
the enduring appeal of the kaiju genre.
The various films and TV series Japan
has released over the past 60 years or so that have featured giant
monsters or giant heroes have appealed to our sense of wonder and
horror, as well as our visceral love of watching monsters beat the
hell out of each other.
Monster movies whether they are
giant-sized or otherwise, emerged in the 1950’s as a direct result
of the world entering the Atomic Age following the end of World War
II. In that with this new weapon at our disposal comes a great
responsibility to not allow that technology to be misused or abused.
That tended to be the mindset of most these films, because we
Americans created the bomb, and used it to win the war; we are the
ones that understand that its power is not to be used lightly.
It wasn’t until 1954 that we got to
see the flipside of that equation when Ishiro Honda brought us
‘Gojira’ or as we all know him, ‘Godzilla: King of the
Monsters’. With the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki still fresh
in the minds of the Japanese at this point, it was only natural that
Honda would craft a giant monster movie with the intent of putting a
human face to the victims of the monster’s devastation.
Growing up in New Jersey, I remember
spending most of my summer vacations watching Godzilla films and
catching a few episodes of Ultraman, or Spectreman on Saturday
mornings.
As a child, I was simply enraptured
watching giant monsters do battle, I don’t know why but it was
something that captured the imagination. As an adult, I look at the
kaiju genre, and at the tokusatsu genre overall, with a greater
appreciation for their enduring appeal and popularity.
Much like how the popularity of
professional wrestling is very much akin to the spectacle of
witnessing gladiatorial coliseum fights during the days of the Roman
Empire, the giant monster battles in the kaiju genre also take on
something of a mythic quality. While its easy to be dismissive of
the idea when you consider that all you’re watching are sweaty men
in rubber suits kicking the crap out of each other on a soundstage,
surrounded by cardboard replicas, crushed toy models and Astroturf.
But, despite all of that, there is a certain willing suspension of
disbelief that can come into play, particularly if you’ve got the
imagination that what you are witnessing is essentially a clash of
the titans. You are bearing witness to the awesomeness of seeing two
giants ripped out of the pages of myths and legends, doing battle to
prove their ultimate supremacy, while we lowly mortals merely watch
on as horrified spectators and the unfortunate victims of collateral
damage.
One of the things that I find
fascinating and intriguing about the kaiju genre is how the giant
monsters are depicted like forces of nature. In that they are
unpredictable and virtually unstoppable, can strike without rhyme or
reason, and without morality or conscience. In some cases, these
creatures strike and cause massive damage, destruction and death
simply because they can.
On the other side of the equation,
giant heroes like Ultraman, become the personification of the power
of the gods themselves being brought to bear, in order to protect the
innocent from needless harm.
1966 proved to be an interesting
turning point for the kaiju genre when Ultraman made his debut.
Unlike Godzilla and Gamera, who both started off as unstoppable
forces of nature and eventually evolved into pop cultural
anti-heroes, Ultraman was a pure force for good. The silver and red
titan from the M78 Nebula, and his franchise brethren, descended from
the heavens, not to impose his will on the world like a petty
dictator, but to protect the world and its people like a guardian
angel.
While many other giant heroes tended to
be unique in their own right, they still followed many of the
essential elements set down by the Ultraman franchise: alien from
outer space poses as an ordinary human or possesses the body of an
ordinary human, joins up with some governmental paramilitary
investigative defense force, some type of threat in the form of a
monster/alien doing something sinister, the defense force uses
whatever means at their disposal to try and neutralize the threat,
they fail, and so our hero has to sneak away a la Clark
Kent/Superman, make the transformation, giant battle ensues, and our
hero is victorious.
While Godzilla and Ultraman remain the
top stars in the kaiju genre in Japan, the kaiju genre itself is
still very much alive and its international and worldwide appeal
remains just as relevant today. Two examples that come to mind are
‘Cloverfield’ and ‘Pacific Rim’. While ‘Cloverfield’ was
essentially an overly hyped up entry in the ‘found footage’
genre, its significance is important due to JJ Abrams and Matt Reeves
creating what was essentially ‘Godzilla from the 9/11 perspective’.
While some of the main characters
weren’t completely likeable, the situation itself provided a
certain uncomfortable and unsettling sense of reality, as it provided
a first person perspective of what it must’ve been like to be in
New York, near ground zero when the towers were destroyed.
Guillermo del Toro’s ‘Pacific Rim’
on the other hand, provides us with a glimpse of a world so changed
by tragedy and destruction brought on by the monster attacks, no
doubt as an allegory for how much our world has changed post- 9/11,
as well as likeable characters striving to come together to overcome
personal demons in order to create the necessary research and
technology needed to combat this ongoing threat. It also helps that
del Toro brought a sense of fun and entertainment that was severely
lacking in ‘Cloverfield’.
But why do we still find ourselves
drawn to this genre? What is the essential ingredient that allows
these films and TV series the chance to be rediscovered again and
again? Perhaps the essential element that provides the kaiju genre
its enduring appeal can be summed up in a single line taken from the
English dub version of ‘Godzilla: Final Wars’: ‘Maybe there is
a little bit of Godzilla in all of us’.
While that line sounds ridiculous upon
first hearing it, there is nonetheless some truth to it. Our own
history tells us that mankind is just as capable of the same sort of
death and devastation as any fictional giant monster. Perhaps these
films, like many other films that contain excessive violence and
destruction, are a form of therapeutic release? Sure the issue over
whether violence in films causes violent behavior is an ongoing
debate soaked in controversy, but we cannot deny that there are times
when we wish we could vent our anger and frustration towards others
in a very physical manner. And while we know doing so would achieve
nothing except getting us locked up in Guantanamo Bay or somewhere
equally horrifying, the feelings are still there nonetheless.
While Godzilla may represent the primal
instincts and darker aspects of man’s nature, Ultraman without a
doubt is the flipside to man’s nature. This involves our capacity
for good, and an ability to really come together in a time of crisis,
as well as the notion of a good-natured person utilizing the power of
a god for pure altruistic reasons. Shows like Ultraman teach us that
we as a species are so much more than our baser instincts, but only
if we choose to rise above our darker aspects. Just as we are
capable of committing acts of great evil, we are also just as capable
of doing a lot more good.
I think that is why the genre remains
popular today and why these films and TV shows continue to be
rediscovered. People get a kick of out monster fights, they laugh at
the cheesy English dubbing, the good and bad special effects and how
they’ve evolved over the years, and also find something of
themselves in either the human characters or the monsters themselves.
While its easy to dismiss the kaiju
genre as just being pulpy, schlocky, B-grade sci-fi and action fluff,
like all good sci-fi, there are times when it utilizes these
fantastical elements in order to tell poignant stories that tackle
very important and immediate cultural and societal concerns (i.e.,
war, nuclear disarmament, environmental catatstrophes, racism, etc.)
as well as more personal stories (i.e., feelings of inadequacy,
loneliness, etc.). Even the basic core theme running through the
Ultraman franchise and other similar programs, is the idea of one man
being gifted with the power of a titan, and like with any superhero
with a dual identity, has to walk the fine line to balance the
enormous responsibility that 
comes with the power they possess. The
kaiju genre, when handled well, can be many things to many people.
It can be fun, entertaining, silly, smart, dark and horrific.
comes with the power they possess. The
kaiju genre, when handled well, can be many things to many people.
It can be fun, entertaining, silly, smart, dark and horrific.
Whether its smart, silly,
thought-provoking or horrific, the kaiju genre is nothing less than
fun and entertaining on every level. In the end, isn’t that what
we want all films and TV shows to be?
***
Bobby Shaddoe is the
mysterious alter ego of Robert L. Torres, a life long fan of sci-fi,
horror, fantasy, and various other things both strange and unusual.
While Bobby Shaddoe considers himself a citizen of the universe (and a
gentleman to boot), Mr. Torres currently resides in Hudson, FL with his
lovely wife Pamela. When not hard at work as a caregiver for the
developmentally and physically disabled, Robert enjoys reading, writing,
the occasional cosplay, attending film festivals, and scouring the
internet for films and TV shows not shown on American television.
