Catching a Screening of 'Mothra' in 35mm!

The Laputa Asagaya. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Earlier today (Wednesday, November 22), I was privileged to catch a screening of the Toho classic Mothra (1961) in 35mm at the Laputa Asagaya. The screening is part of a special program celebrating the 25th anniversary of the theater with new film prints of specially selected works.

When Mothra saw its 4K screenings at Toho Cinemas around Tokyo a while back, I decided not to go, which I now deeply regret. Chalk it up to laziness -- I just didn't want to get up that early in the morning to see it. So, in a way, this screening makes up for the fact that I missed the 4K version. The 35mm print had a few scratches and imperfections here and there, but otherwise it looked in pristine shape. It was a great way to see the film!

Today's film lineup. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Regarding the film itself, what could I say that hasn't been said a thousand times already? It's a classic, and I feel very fortunate I was able to see such a wonderful 35mm print of it. I didn't notice very many fun details that I've seen in other such theatrical screenings, but it was a joy to take in all the tokusatsu greatness onscreen. 

There were quite a few people at the screening, but the theater was only about half full. I was kind of worried about a sellout (there were some screenings earlier this year that came dangerously close to one), but in retrospect I needn't have worried. All in all, it was a fun way to spend an afternoon.

Director Nobuo Nakagawa Celebrated with a Screening of His Television Work!

Kyoko Yashiro. Photo by Brett Homenick.

This afternoon (Sunday, June 11), I attended an event centered around celebrated director Nobuo Nakagawa, who is best remembered around the world for his period horror films. This event, however, focused on the director's work on home dramas during the mid-'60s. It was held in the basement of the Laputa Asagaya.

Screened at the event were episode 10 of the home drama Toshiko-san (1966), as well as episode 1 of the similar Atchan (1965). Both works were a far cry from Nakagawa's scarier features. Today's episode of Atchan even boasted music by the late Chumei Watanabe.

I wasn't sure who would show up to the event, but thankfully there were two great guests who made it all worthwhile. The first guest to mention is Shintoho actress Kyoko Yashiro, the widow of Ultra-series director Toshihiro Iijima. Yashiro-san worked with director Nakagawa on The Lady Vampire (1959). She also appeared in Vampire Bride (1960) and The Ghost of the Girl Diver (1960). I hadn't seen her since 2018 but was quite pleased that she recognized me after all this time. I was very happy to have a chance to see her again -- and even ride in an elevator with her!

Masahisa Sakashita. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Also on hand was Nikkatsu Studios veteran Masahisa Sakashita. While he worked his way up through Nikkatsu Studios during the 1970s, more recently he has worked as a freelance television director. I also last saw him in 2018, but was floored that he recognized me, too. I figured there was no way he would remember me (we'd only ever met once before, and that was at a similar event with many attendees), so it was a pleasant surprise that he did. He was in great spirits, and we shared quite a few laughs.

And that's a wrap! The only other thing to mention is that, at one point, Yashiro-san couldn't find the black bag she brought with her, and a few others and I scoured the place looking for it. It turned out that her companion, with whom she came to the event, had it in his possession all along. Crises averted! Otherwise, it was a great time. Let's do it again!

Saying Goodbye to the Laputa Asagaya's Science Fiction Film Festival with 'Espy'!

Signage for Espy (1974) at the Laputa Asagaya. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Well, I couldn't resist. On the last night of the Laputa Asagaya's Science Fiction Film Festival (Friday, March 10), I just had to go one last time, taking in the final screening of 1974's Espy (as well as that of the film festival itself) in 35mm. Naturally, they screened the same print, so the same flaws remained, though it was still quite watchable. 

I had a lot of fun watching it, just like I did a few days ago, but knowing it was the very last screening of the film program was a real downer. In fact, when I left theater after the movie, the poster you see in the above photo was already taken down. Sigh.

I should also mention that tokusatsu music played in the theater lobby before the screening, and, for about 10 minutes before each movie started, tokusatsu-themed music was piped into the theater itself. The lobby always seemed to be playing music from Goke Body Snatcher from Hell (1968), while the theater would always play the theme from Varan the Unbelievable (1958), among other selections. The choice of Varan music was a bit head-scratching, as that wasn't one of the featured films. Anyway, it was fun stuff.

I sure won't miss battling late-night trains in and around Shinjuku to get to and from the theater, but I certainly will miss everything else about it. I'm really glad I caught each movie on the program at least once -- and even catching Goke and Espy twice! As you can imagine, I'd say those were my two favorites of all nine titles. 

Many thanks to the Laputa Asagaya for hosting one heck of a sci-fi film festival!

Attending a Screening of the Toho Actioner 'Espy' in 35mm!

Signage for Espy at the Laputa Asagaya. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Earlier tonight (Monday, March 6), I took in a screening of Toho's Espy (1974), a fun sci-fi/action flick that doesn't get the attention it deserves, in 35mm. The screening took place at the Laputa Asagaya as part of its Science Fiction Film Festival program. The theater was quite packed, which I wasn't expecting. I guess more people were interested in the film than I thought. Unfortunately, though, this is the last film in the festival's lineup.

The print wasn't exactly in great shape, but the theater alerted patrons to that ahead of time by posting a notice in the lobby to a bulletin board. As expected, it was quite faded and contained its share of jumps and splices. I noticed that many of the splices happened during Kaoru Yumi's racier scenes, which I can't imagine could be a coincidence.  

This is the same print I saw around 2015. It opens with the Toho logo taken from a print of The Last Days of Planet Earth (1974) before quickly cutting back to Espy. Naturally, I have no idea what happened to the print to result in that situation, but it certainly is interesting.

I've always enjoyed the film, and I had a lot of fun watching it again. One of my favorite parts was seeing the German Shepherd Cheetah (at least that's his name in the dubbed version) sit next to Shigeo Kato, who is playing a security guard. It was also great seeing the late Steven Greene on the big screen, playing the prime minister of Baltonia, whom I was privileged to interview about two years ago.

I'd say there's a (very slim) chance that I might attend another screening by Friday, which is when the festival officially ends. I guess we'll see how it goes. If I go again, I'll be sure to post about it here. Otherwise, I can't say enough good things about the Laputa Asagaya's Science Fiction Film Festival, and it certainly is depressing to see it end. I wish it could have gone on all year!

A Double Feature at the Laputa Asagaya!

Signage for the Laputa Asagaya's Yuzo Kawashima Retrospective. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Tonight -- that's Thursday, March 2 -- I returned to the Laputa Asagaya a bit earlier than I expected. A new film program has started, the Yuzo Kawashima Retrospective. As you've probably gathered, the retrospective focuses on the career of director Yuzo Kawashima. Tonight's film was a 35mm print of Romance Express (1961), a comedic ensemble featuring several notable Toho performers. I've wanted to see the film for a while, having seen some publicity stills that make the flick look like a lot of fun. The timing was good, so I went to the theater to check it out.

Publicity material for Romance Express (1961) in the theater lobby. Photo by Brett Homenick.

The film stars Frankie Sakai, who in the story is in a relationship with the leading lady, Reiko Dan. Sakai plays a cook working the dining car of a Kodama limited express train, and Dan plays a waitress who also works on the train. There's a bit of a love triangle involving Yumi Shirakawa, who plays a train attendant.

Reiko Dan wants to marry Frankie Sakai, but, because she wants to open a bento shop after they get married, Sakai isn't sure about the proposal. So he has six and a half hours -- the time it takes for the train to travel from Tokyo to Osaka -- to make his decision.

In addition, a lot of assorted kookiness takes place on the train, including the shenanigans of a lecherous company president, a loud, drunken weirdo, and pickpocket gang. As if that weren't enough, there's also a bomb scare to top things off. 

If that sounds even remotely serious, don't worry; it's not. In fact, Frankie Sakai has a slapstick fight with the pickpockets toward the end of the movie, complete with over-the-top, cartoonish sound effects. It's all done for entertainment and laughs. The movie is presented in black and white, but I think a movie this metaphorically colorful would have easily benefited from some literal color.

Oh, and I briefly spotted Shigeo Kato standing on a train platform and Haruo Nakajima as the Kodama driver. Fun stuff!

A Romance Express poster in the theater lobby. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Another note of interest is that the score was composed by Riichiro Manabe. Kaiju fans typically don't think of Manabe as having scored Toho movies during the golden age, but here's an example of his having done just that. The score itself matches the light-hearted tone of the proceedings, and it even reminded me a bit of the score to Roger Corman's The Little Shop of Horrors (1960) in places. 

The last scene takes place completely without dialogue. The camera is positioned outside the train, so the audience can only see the action take place inside the train, but it follows the characters as they move around inside. In this scene, Frankie Sakai gives Reiko Dan his answer about their getting married. It's all cleverly done, and it's a fun visual experience.

After the movie, I decided to hang around and catch another screening of Goke Body Snatcher from Hell (1968) -- again, in glorious 35mm -- as part of the Science Fiction Film Festival. Even though I literally just saw it a few days ago, I was up for another screening. I don't have anything to add to my blog post from a few days ago, other than to say I never got bored watching it again so soon after the last time and enjoyed it immensely again. What a great film! 

A Special Screening of 'Goke Body Snatcher from Hell' in 35mm!

Goke Body Snatcher from Hell (1968) at the Laputa Asagaya. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Earlier tonight (Sunday, February 26), I attended a screening of Goke Body Snatcher from Hell (1968) in 35mm. It's the penultimate film of the Laputa Asagaya's Science Fiction Film Festival. The film print was in good shape, though the usual specks and scratches were present throughout the movie. 

Publicity material for Goke in the theater lobby. Photo by Brett Homenick.

I've seen the film several times over the years, and it's been a favorite of mine since I saw the dubbed version on VHS in the year 2000. The movie has held up quite well, and I'd have to say that it's the screening I've enjoyed the most so far as part of the program. 

A poster for Goke in the theater lobby. Photo by Brett Homenick.

It's hard to believe there's only one film left -- that being Espy (1974). Actually, the theater put up a sign informing patrons that the film print for Espy is faded, so they are apologizing in advance for it. No worries, though -- I'm quite interested to see how it compares with the other prints they've screened. 

A poster for Romance Express (1961) in the theater lobby. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Also in the theater lobby was this poster for director Yuzo Kawashima's Romance Express (1961). It's not particularly relevant to anything, but I'm happy to photograph and share anything with the dazzling Yumi Shirakawa in it, so here you go.

'The Green Slime' Invades the Laputa Asagaya in 35mm!

Signage for The Green Slime screening at the Laputa Asagaya. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Tonight (Monday, February 20), I had the privilege of seeing The Green Slime (1968) in 35mm. I'd seen the movie projected twice before -- once in an old-timey theater way back in March 1996, and the other time in November 2009 at an L.A.-area convention. As far as I know, both screenings were from the same 16mm print owned by a private collector.

Interestingly, though, I didn't sit through the entire film either time. In 1996, I wasn't all that interested in the movie (to be perfectly honest), so I would occasionally leave my seat to check out the videos on sale in the theater lobby. In 2009, I assisted Luciana Paluzzi at her autograph table and only caught about the first third or so of the movie.

Publicity material for The Green Slime in the theater lobby. Photo by Brett Homenick.

So this screening promised to be much different, and it would be presented in the far superior 35mm format. The only drawback was that it was the inferior Japanese cut of the film, which edits out as much of the drama as possible. The runtime for this version is only 77 minutes, so you can get an idea of how much got left on the cutting room floor.

Out and about in Asagaya. Photo by Brett Homenick.

The print itself was in good condition, and none of the typical imperfections one normally gets with such prints was that distracting. It did seem to my eye, however, that the first few minutes were a bit faded, but after that the print looked great to me. 

Naturally, I enjoyed the film, and it was especially fun seeing so many people I've interviewed over the years in the movie. I finally got to get a good look at the late Tom Korzeniowski (billed here as Tom Conrad) in the film, which was the icing on the cake. I also have to give the three leads a lot of credit for giving it their all in what must have seemed like a rather silly film.

It's quite amusing to think that, just three years after The Green Slime, Richard Jaeckel would appear in the Paul Newman-directed drama Sometimes a Great Notion (1971), which would earn him a Best Supporting Actor Oscar nomination. The Green Slime helped pave the way to the Academy Awards ceremony!

All in all, it was another fun evening at the Laputa Asagaya for the theater's Science Fiction Film Festival program. Hard to believe there are only two films left before it ends. I'm really glad I finally got to see The Green Slime properly in 35mm. It's just too bad it wasn't the American version! Can't win 'em all, though.

Watching 'Terror Beneath the Sea' in 35mm!

Terror Beneath the Sea at the Laputa Asagaya. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Tonight (Tuesday, February 14), I had the privilege of attending a rare screening of Toei's Terror Beneath the Sea (1966) in 35mm at the Laputa Asagaya as part of its ongoing Science Fiction Film Festival. I hadn't seen the film in more than 20 years, and I'm not sure I'd ever seen it more than once before tonight. While several interesting scenes had been etched in my memory, in many ways it was like watching a brand-new flick.

The film print was in excellent shape, especially compared to some of the Toho prints that I've seen. The only questionable moment was when Sonny Chiba and Peggy Neal were poolside toward the beginning of the film. The screen went totally black for about 20 or so seconds while the audio from the scene could be heard. I'm not sure if that was a projection issue or what, but it was the only major problem I noticed. Otherwise, the print was extremely clear, and the images truly popped off the screen. 

Publicity material for Terror Beneath the Sea on display in the theater lobby. Photo by Brett Homenick.

The movie itself is quite entertaining, and, if you're a fan of mid-'60s tokusatsu movies, then there is a lot for you to admire. Hajime Sato's directing is rather impressive, and a lot of his shot compositions are reminiscent of Akio Jissoji's work. Even though the tokusatsu is a bit limited here, it's still a visually fascinating film.

I was also surprised at the sheer lack of Japanese characters in the movie. Aside from Sonny Chiba, none of the main characters is Japanese. It almost comes across as a practice run for The Green Slime (1968), but who knows if any such plans were in the works by then. 

Ticket, please! Photo by Brett Homenick.

All in all, it was a fun night at the movies, and I look forward to the next screenings in the upcoming weeks!

MUSHROOM CLOUDS AND MUSHROOM MOVIES! Attending a Screening of 'Matango' in 35mm!

Matango at the Laputa Asagaya! Photo by Brett Homenick.

Another week, another evening at the Laputa Asagaya. Tonight's screening (Monday, February 6) was a 35mm print of Matango (1963), one of Toho's most celebrated genre pictures. To be honest, I'm not sure I would have chosen Matango to screen as part of a sci-fi film festival (it's much more of a horror flick), but I'm sure it was selected due to its popularity. In fact, the theater was pretty close to sold out, despite the fact that it was a Monday evening.

Publicity material for Matango in the theater lobby. Photo by Brett Homenick.

If I'm being completely honest, I almost decided to skip this movie. It's not that I dislike the film -- that certainly isn't true! -- but there was a point a while back when it felt like Matango was getting screened every other week somewhere in Tokyo, and I guess I just got burned out on it. Of course, the period of time I'm talking about was quite a few years ago, but I suppose a bit of the burnout remains. I largely decided to attend the screening because February is likely to be a much quieter month than January, so I ought to seize any opportunity that comes my way.

The 35mm film print looked quite good, although it came with the usual flaws. The movie is a bit of a slow burn, but, once it reaches its climax, it really packs a hefty punch. With that being said, I'm sure you've figured out that I probably don't love this one as much as some others do. But I'd still give it a high ranking, despite the fact that I still wish the filmmakers had come up with a better way to end the scene during which the first mushroom man menaces the main characters by simply having him disappear into thin air.

Overall, it was an enjoyable evening, but I have to admit that I'm looking forward to seeing the remaining films in the program a lot more.

Attending a Screening of Toho's 'The H-Man' in 35mm!

Signage for tonight's screening of The H-Man at the Laputa Asagaya. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Not only did I see An American Werewolf in London (1981) earlier today (Sunday, January 29), but I capped off the evening with a screening of Toho's The H-Man (1958) in 35mm. It was part of the Laputa Asagaya's Science Fiction Film Festival, and I was quite eager to see it. I'm much more familiar with this movie than the previous three I've seen as part of this program, and tonight's film features many of my favorite Toho performers.

Publicity materials for The H-Man inside the theater lobby. Photo by Brett Homenick.

The film looked gorgeous in 35mm. As always, there were a few flaws, but very few jumps that would have proved too distracting. Yumi Shirakawa was absolutely radiant here -- just an unbelievably beautiful woman. Masaru Sato's score is excellent, and the effects are impressive, too, though they would get even better over time.

It's interesting to think that Daiei's The Invisible Man vs. the Human Fly (1957) came out the previous year when the two films look like they were made decades apart. This was made just after Toho hit its stride with its SFX flicks, and, unlike a few of the studio's previous releases, it actually looks like a movie made in the year it came out. 

Oh, and there was a small earthquake that happened during the screening. It wasn't too disruptive or anything, but it was kind of interesting. Just thought I'd include that little tidbit.

That's all for tonight. Now to get some sleep!

Catching Daiei's 'The Invisible Man vs. the Human Fly' (1957) at the Theater in Glorious 16mm!

The Laputa Asagaya. Photo by Brett Homenick.

The Science Fiction Film Festival at the Laputa Asagaya marches on, and tonight (Monday, January 23) I took in a screening of the Daiei shocker The Invisible Man vs. the Human Fly (1957). I'd seen it once before, which was in the summer of 2010. It came highly recommended from this guy who had written some book, and, because I assumed he knew what he was talking about, I gave it a look-see. But I found it way too talky and, ultimately, underwhelming, so I had no idea what that dude was talking about. (Then again, I'm not so sure even he knows.)

Unlike the other screenings, this was actually a 16mm print, not 35mm. The print itself had likely seen better days. While there weren't that many jumps, there were scratches and splotches aplenty, almost looking as if the characters were suddenly caught in a blizzard of black snow.

Due to my lack of enthusiasm for the film the first time I saw it, I actually considered skipping this screening. But the rarity of the situation eventually won me over, so I decided to give it a second chance. So how did I feel this time?

Mostly the same, to be honest, though I will freely admit that I enjoyed it more this time. I was able to appreciate a number of the SFX scenes more this time around, likely because I could see them better on the big screen. Most of the effects scenes involve miniaturized bad guys who buzz around the air like insects or climb around on unsuspecting cabaret performers, so it certainly doesn't do these sequences justice to see them on DVD at home. And those scenes were fun, as was the surprise involving the Invisible Woman during the climax. 

But I still find the flick way too talky. The actors generally do a good job, but they are mostly unmemorable. Even the scenery-chewing Human Flies aren't that interesting as villains, which is especially true of the first Human Fly, who mostly comes across as an off-the-rack cackling madman you can find in a slew of low-budget horrors from this side of the Pacific. Not bad, but really nothing special.

From where I sit, Toho's The Invisible Man (1954) is the superior film, and it has the added benefit of featuring an interesting character in the titular role. The Invisible People in this one are quite unremarkable, I'm afraid. 

I hope I eventually get my hands on the Blu-ray, and -- who knows -- maybe then I'll come around to digging the film. I guess we'll see. While my opinion of the movie has improved, and I'll happily give it the credit it's due, I can't give it a full-throated recommendation. It's fair, but I can't quite call it good.

Attending Another Rare Screening of Toho's 'Half Human' (1955)!

Half Human at the Laputa Asagaya. Photo by Brett Homenick.

On Monday, January 16, I was fortunate to attend another screening of Toho's Half Human (1955) in 35mm. It was part of the Laputa Asagaya's ongoing Science Fiction Film Festival program, and it was an offer too good to pass up.

I'd seen Half Human once before in 35mm, which was in late 2019 as part of an all-night film festival. Despite the lateness of the starting time, at least I'm able to sleep in my own bed tonight!

The print was in fairly decent shape, though there were defects aplenty. It certainly wasn't terrible, but the quality varied throughout the screening. Sometimes the print quality was basically perfect; other times it was rough going with a lot of jumps, scratches, and other flaws that one would typically associate with an old film print.

As for the film itself, I can't say that it's all that great. Toho hadn't perfected its formula for tokusatsu films until Rodan (1956), so most productions prior to that, in my humble opinion, don't hold up so well. Some parts of the movie -- the skiing sequence toward the beginning, in particular -- even look like a silent film, what with the lack of ambient sounds to go along with the action onscreen.

Masaru Sato's score is easily the most lackluster and forgettable of his SFX output. Speaking of SFX, the special effects are wildly uneven -- some shots are quite good, while others simply don't work at all. The titular Snowman doesn't come across as sympathetic as I'm sure the filmmakers wanted, but he also isn't as menacing as he should be. In many ways, the movie just isn't all that good.

On the plus side, I enjoyed seeing Shigeo Kato as one of the villagers, and I also spotted Haruo Nakajima as part of the mountaineering team. 

Even though Half Human is a much more lavish production, I enjoyed The Invisible Man (1954) -- last week's film -- much more. The ending to that film was quite a bit more impactful. Half Human's ending lacked any kind of emotion, even though it really should have, given who perished in the end. Thankfully, however, Toho would start cranking out superior productions on a much more regular basis shortly after this one. 

Checking Out Toho's 'The Invisible Man' (1954) in 35mm!

A poster for the Laputa Asagaya's Science Fiction Film Festival. Photo by Brett Homenick.

On Tuesday evening, January 10, I was privileged to see a rare screening of the early tokusatsu thriller The Invisible Man (1954) in 35mm at the Laputa Asagaya. The showing was part of the theater's Science Fiction Film Festival program, which offers a tantalizing array of sci-fi classics over the next few weeks.

I'm pretty sure I'd only seen this movie once before, which would have been around December 2000 or January 2001. My copy wasn't subtitled, so you could imagine why I didn't pull it out all that much over the years. I didn't remember much about the movie, even my own reaction to it. My strongest memory of  seeing it back then was when the titular character started playing various instruments in front of the gangsters in the cabaret.

My ticket for the show. Photo by Brett Homenick.

So, with all that said, you could see why I watched the movie with great anticipation. The 35mm print screened was in decent shape, though several flaws were quite evident. It wasn't the worst print I've ever seen, nor was it the best. There were some scratches and jumps throughout the film, but overall it wasn't too bad.

Now that's a cool T-shirt, but it's every bit as expensive as it is cool! Photo by Brett Homenick.

The movie itself was pretty enjoyable, though a bit primitive at times. A lot of Japanese movies from this era look like they were shot in the '30s, not the '50s, and The Invisible Man is no exception. Still, the scenes in the cabaret are quite entertaining, and they predate The H-Man (1958) by a few years. Toho was still in the process of figuring out its formula for sci-fi films, but it wouldn't be until Rodan (1956) that the studio really got it down to a science -- in my opinion, of course.

 

The movie was a bit more violent than I was expecting, but it was also more touching. The ending, in particular, was quite poignant, and I was moved by it more than I expected. The movie was directed by Motoyoshi (Godzilla Raids Again) Oda, not Ishiro Honda, but by the end of the film I felt for Nanjo (the Invisible Man) about as much as I felt for any character in any of Honda's flicks. 

Out and about in Asagaya. Photo by Brett Homenick.

I had a great time at the movies, and look forward to seeing more such films in the coming weeks. When I see them, I'll post my updates here. Stay tuned!

A Return to the Laputa Asagaya!

The Laputa Asagaya. Photo by Brett Homenick.

A few weeks ago, I received a letter from screenwriter Fumio Ishimori. He invited me to join him at a screening of his film Kyoko and Jiro (1973), produced by Shochiku Studios. Kyoko and Jiro is a romantic melodrama that follows the lives of the titular characters, including all the ups and downs. Kaoru Yumi and Yuriko Hishimi are two of the actresses that tokusatsu fans would likely recognize.

I went to the theater (the Laputa Asagaya) and met Ishimori-san there. Shortly thereafter, the movie started. I was surprised to see it was a packed house, but I guess there were quite a few people who wanted to see the film. And an enjoyable film it was. It was very stylishly directed and well acted by its cast members.

Fumio Ishimori. Photo by Brett Homenick.

After the movie, our group had lunch at a nearby restaurant. There, I was introduced to a female anime TV scriptwriter who was a student of Ishimori-san's. We all had a great conversation. Many thanks to Ishimori-san for inviting me!

CURSE OF THE DOG GOD! An Oddity from '70s-Era Toei!

A poster for the Toei horror thriller Inugami no Tatari (1977). Photo by Brett Homenick. 

Tonight, I made my way to the Laputa Asagaya for what will likely be the last installment of the Into Nightmares late-night screenings that I will see. (The program will continue, but I'm not particularly interested in the remaining titles.) Tonight's show was a film I'd actually never heard of before. It was a Toei production called Inugami no Tatari (1977), which can be translated as "Curse of the Dog God." The movie is just about as strange as that title would suggest, but unfortunately it's not as entertaining.

The movie has a pretty simple setup. A group of engineers from a mining company searching for uranium in a rural area in Japan (at least when they're not staring at naked female swimmers in a nearby river) accidentally destroys a small shrine in their truck on an unpaved forest road and runs over a dog owned by a young boy. These actions set in motion a series of bizarre events, resulting in the deaths of the protagonists' two colleagues. (One goes crazy and jumps off the Shinjuku Sumitomo Building; the other is killed by a pack of vicious German Shepherds.) The main character's bride (whom he marries shortly after the dog is run over and the shrine is destroyed) even becomes possessed by the dog-god, despite the fact she had nothing to do with the accident.

The man and his wife eventually return to the village where she eventually dies. At this point, the movie loses focus and begins to get bogged down in characters and subplots that just aren't very interesting. The supernatural elements take a backseat to the human drama, and (with few exceptions) they don't return until the last 20 or so minutes of the film.

But those last 20 minutes are a doozy. We're treated to a lot of strange imagery, including (but not limited to) disembodied flying dog heads. While the early supernatural scenes seemed to take things somewhat seriously, there is no such effort made here. It's almost as if writer-director Shunya Ito saw a screening of House (1977) and decided it wasn't outlandish enough for him.

Overall, the movie is a mixed bag. When the movie is supernatural, it's interesting and enjoyable. When nothing ghostly is happening, well, let's just say things can get a little slow. And a lot slow, too. I do love the cinematography of the rural landscapes, though. At least the film is visually appealing when the story isn't.

SEEING A PAIR OF TOHO FILMS! A Double Feature of Crime and Horror!

Evil of Dracula poster on display in the theater lobby. Photo by Brett Homenick. 

Tonight was another evening of Toho movies at the Laputa Asagaya. Tonight's double bill began with Jun Fukuda's Dai Nippon Suri Shudan (1969), a crime story (with strong elements of comedy) that pits a determined detective against a gang of pickpockets in Osaka. The detective (played by Keiju Kobayashi) and the leader of the gang (played by Norihei Miki) have an interesting wartime backstory together that fuels much of the story.

A poster for Dai Nippon Suri Shudan on display. Photo by Brett Homenick.

At one point, the detective attempts to arrest a gang member (played by a particularly dapper Akihiko Hirata) in a pachiko parlor after he catches Hirata's criminal in the act of pickpocketing. Hirata escapes, and Kobayashi gives chase. The ensuing chase through the streets of Osaka was quite exciting, bringing a bit of cinema verite to the proceedings that was often missing from Toho films during the 1960s. The chase ends when a car hits and kills Hirata's character, and the effect was surprisingly convincing.

I didn't know what to expect from the film, but it works on several levels. The comedy and drama seemed to blend well, and the audience I saw it with laughed with the film when it was funny. I'd strongly recommend this film to anyone who's still under the false impression that Jun Fukuda was some second-rate director.

Tonight's other film was Evil of Dracula (1974), which I'd rank as my favorite of the Bloodthirsty trilogy. (Lake of Dracula would get ranked at the bottom for me, but I still enjoy it.) It was a joy to see this one on the big screen in glorious 35mm. The detail in the gore effects at the end of the film was quite evident onscreen and was something of a revelation. Fun stuff!

CREST OF THE WOLF! Seeing This (Sort of) Horror Movie at Laputa Asagaya!

The poster for Crest of the Wolf (1973) on display in the theater lobby. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Tonight, I returned to the Laputa Asagaya for a 35mm screening of Crest of the Wolf (1973), a pseudo-horror movie that has never really enthralled me that much. Those expecting a more traditional werewolf flick will certainly be disappointed. The werewolf scenes are incidental to the film, which plays more like a violent high school drama. 

What we do see of the werewolf isn't all that impressive, either. At some points, the lead actor is simply wearing a wolf mask (and retains his ability to speak), and at other times he's a full-blown wolf, attacking his enemies and causing untold amounts of blood spray. The effects of which are never really convincing.

There are no flashy transformation scenes, either. He just suddenly appears as a wolf. The rest of the movie is pretty trashy stuff (nudity, violence, etc.), especially from Toho. As I said, though, most of the movie revolves around a gang of violent high school thugs who don't take kindly to the new "lone wolf" student who does things his own way.

Here's a nice poster for Toho's Ichi ka bachi ka (1963) that was on display. Looks like a fun flick. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Still, screenings of Crest of the Wolf are extremely rare, so I wanted to take the opportunity to see it in 35mm. I'm glad I did, even though my opinion of the film hasn't changed much. It really isn't a bad film, and it does show a bit of stylistic flair, but let's face it, we're only seeing this movie because it has a monster in it. That's what we want, but it just doesn't deliver.

In Japan, the film is most notable for marking the screen debut of Yusaku Matsuda, a popular actor who went on to star as the main villain in Ridley Scott's Black Rain (1989), and who died shortly after completing that film. (Matsuda plays the leader of the high school gang in Crest of the Wolf.)

A RETURN TO THE MOVIES! Seeing Toho Flicks Again in Asagaya!

Tickets for tonight's double feature. Photo by Brett Homenick.

It's Monday, so that must mean I went back to the Laputa Asagaya for another double feature. On tonight's menu was a pair of Toho features, which couldn't be any more different from each other. One was the screwball romantic comedy The Dangerous Kiss (1960), and the other was the eerie vampire tale Lake of Dracula (1971). 

Prior to the screenings, another audio recording by none other than Shinichi Yanagisawa was played, describing the background of The Dangerous Kiss. It's always a treat to hear Yanagisawa-san's familiar voice. 

 A poster for The Dangerous Kiss (uh, the one on the right). Photo by Brett Homenick.

The Dangerous Kiss stars Akira Takarada, Reiko Dan, Ichiro Arishima, Sachio Sakai, and several other Toho regulars (most of whom didn't appear in the studio's monster films). It's a lighthearted, over-the-top comedy that doesn't take itself seriously for one second. Takarada-san plays a popular, handsome boxer named Akira Takada (get it?) who, after a car collision, is photographed by the paparazzi trying to revive a high school student (played by Reiko Dan) using an unusual combination of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and ramen broth. The photo (looking more like a make-out session than a life-saving attempt) ends up on the cover of a gossip magazine and causes all sorts of shenanigans among the multiple women in Takada's life.

There's a lot happening in this film, everything from a food-fight sequence to a stage show at a nightclub featuring a guy in a yeti suit menacing a dancer. (The suit looked a bit like the one used in Half Human but, to my eye, was demonstrably different.)  Takarada-san was at his most charismatic here, and the entire cast was obviously having a lot of fun with the material.

Poster art for Toho's Lake of Dracula. Photo by Brett Homenick. 

After The Dangerous Kiss, it was time for a movie about a different kind of dangerous kisses -- you know, the kind vampires give you when they're trying to eat. Lake of Dracula was screened in all its glory, and it has obviously never looked better. I've never seen it in 35mm before, but the detail of the images was fantastic. Watching Shin Kishida's death scene at the end was quite intriguing. I never noticed before that the makeup used on Kishida's face during his death scene wasn't applied to his neck, making it plainly obvious to the viewer that it's all just a touch-up job.

And so ends another eventful Monday night. I'll be back at the Laputa Asagaya soon, but on a different night from my usual routine. Why the change? Stay tuned to this blog for the exciting answer!