Seeing 'Terror of Mechagodzilla' in 35mm!

The National Film Archive of Japan. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Today (Sunday, February 18), I took a trip to the National Film Archive of Japan to catch a screening of the kaiju classic Terror of Mechagodzilla (1975) in 35mm. The movie was shown as part of its program called Women Who Made Japanese Cinema [Part 2]: From the 1970s to the 1980s. In particular, this screening honored screenwriter Yukiko Takayama's contributions to Japanese cinema.

The print itself was in excellent shape, with very few noticeable blemishes. The movie's subject matter is quite dark, and director Ishiro Honda does a great job of highlighting the consequences of the monster attacks on everyday people. The movie has always been one of my favorites.

The poster for Terror of Mechagodzilla outside the theater. Photo by Brett Homenick.

There was an impressive turnout for the film, despite the fact that it had already been screened twice before in the last couple of weeks. Not much else to say. Even though the screening started a bit earlier than I would have preferred (12:30), I'm very glad I went. A great way to kick off a fairly warm (by February standards) Sunday! 

Seeing 'The Ghost of Yotsuya' in 35mm!

The National Film Archive of Japan's film program honoring movie figures who died in the last two years. Photo by Brett Homenick.

The Nagisa Oshima retrospective isn't the only thing happening these days at the National Film Archive of Japan. Also taking place is a film program entitled In Memory of Film Figures We Lost in 2021-2022. The first half of the program runs from July 4 through September 3, and the second half will take place from October 10 through the 22nd. 

Recognize any of the faces here? Photo by Brett Homenick.

To be honest, most of the selected films don't appeal to me all that much, but one title in particular intrigued me -- Nobuo Nakagawa's The Ghost of Yotsuya (1959). Composer Chumei Watanabe passed away last year, so this film was chosen to honor his memory.

A poster for Nikkastu's Two for Ginza (1967), starring the lovely Masako Izumi. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Not only was The Ghost of Yotsuya shown in 35mm, but it was actually shown with English subtitles! Suffice it to say, it was an opportunity I couldn't pass up, especially since (believe it or not) I'd never seen it before.

A poster for Princess from the Moon (1987), celebrating the career of the late SFX director Teruyoshi Nakano. Photo by Brett Homenick.

As expected, I enjoyed the film. It was effectively creepy with many great visuals. This film proves just how great a director Nobuo Nakagawa was at horror, a genre he truly excelled at. The print was in excellent shape, and the subtitles were well written and easy to read. 

It was a great afternoon at the movies. I'm not sure I will check out any of the other films on offer, but, if I do, it will be tough -- to say the least -- to top today's offering.

Nagisa Oshima Feted at the National Film Archive of Japan!

Photo by Brett Homenick.

Earlier today (that's Wednesday, July 19), I stopped by the National Film Archive of Japan and had the chance to check out its exhibit on the acclaimed director Nagisa Oshima. The exhibit's name in English is simply Film Director Nagisa Oshima, and it looks back on the director's decades-long career 10 years after his passing. In the West, Oshima is probably best known for directing David Bowie in the World War II drama Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence (1983).

Signage for the Film Director Nagisa Oshima exhibit. Photo by Brett Homenick.

The exhibit itself was well done, but my lack of familiarity (and, if I'm being completely honest, interest) in the works of Oshima left me a bit cold. I just didn't know that much about the works on display to be intrigued all that much. Interestingly, photography was mostly allowed in the exhibit, but the posters for Oshima's various films were, for the most part, off-limits. (Given some of the rare pictures and memorabilia on hand that visitors were allowed to photograph, you'd think it would have been the opposite situation.)

Nagisa Oshima's script for an unmade film called "Friday the 13th." Photo by Brett Homenick.

One thing that did capture my attention was this Oshima script for an unmade movie called "Friday the 13th." The 1959 screenplay was apparently supposed to be a black comedy, but no word on whether it would have featured a machete-wielding maniac. 

Afterward, I watched some trailers for some of Oshima's films that were being shown just outside the exhibit, most notably Diary of a Shinjuku Thief (1969), starring Rie Yokoyama. I can't argue with his filmmaking abilities, but the risque subject matter of his films simply doesn't appeal to me. Oh, well. Maybe one day.

Feeling the Wrath of 'Gorath' in 35mm!

The National Film Archive of Japan. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Today (Sunday, March 12), I had the distinct privilege of seeing the Toho classic Gorath (1962) in 35mm on the big screen for the first time. It was screened as part of the National Film Archive of Japan's Women Who Made Japanese Cinema [Part 1]: From the Silent Era to the 1960s program. 

Which women in Japanese cinema does this screening honor? In particular, the pamphlet singles out Reiko Kaneko, who edited many of Ishiro Honda's films from the late 1950s through the '60s, as well as Kiyoko Ishii, who specialized in editing tokusatsu for the Tsuburaya group. Also noted in the pamphlet are SFX scripter Keiko Hisamatsu, costume designer Etsuko Yagyu, and costume staff member Setsuko Asaki. 

The screening was actually a double feature. The first movie screened was Female Detective Story: Woman S.O.S. (1958). This is a 58-minute, black-and-white comedy directed by Hisanobu Marubayashi, starring Yumi Shirakawa, Kenji Sahara, Yoshio Tsuchiya, and Akihiko Hirata. This movie marks another pairing of Shirakawa and Sahara, but, unlike their previous outings together, this is truly Shirakawa's movie, and Sahara is basically her sidekick.

As the title would suggest, the story centers around a female detective played by Shirakawa. While she was often cast as an Audrey Hepburn-style leading lady around this time, here she gets to show her acting range, playing a plucky, resourceful investigator named Nobue Ogawa of the Imperial Secret Detective Agency. In fact, her role sort of reminded me of the ones Yuriko Hoshi played in Godzilla vs. the Thing (1964) and Ghidrah the Three-Headed Monster (1964). She isn't even afraid to dole out a few slaps when getting some sass from a young female she's trying to help.

Shirakawa is asked by a prominent family to look into the background of the man their daughter Midori wants to marry. The daughter's suitor seems to be the character played by Akihiko Hirata, who also goes against type in this film, playing a crude and somewhat slovenly louse. In one scene, Hirata uses a child's dart gun to shoot a dart at the rear end of a female co-worker. However, in a surprising twist, it turns out that it's playboy Yoshio Tsuchiya who's the real villain of the film.

And what a villain he is. The film pulls no punches in showing what a cad he is with women. I won't go into details, but let's just say that Harvey Weinstein probably saw this movie and took notes. Shirakawa is hot on his trail, though, and even gets an assist from her partner, Tsuyoshi Kinoshita (played by Kenji Sahara) in her pursuit. Sahara plays a character who is good-hearted but bumbling and jealous, hardly the stuff of the leading-man roles he usually got around this time.  

Today's movies screened at the National Film Archive. Photo by Brett Homenick.

The film ends when Shirakawa and Tsuchiya enter a hotel room together with a hidden recording device planted there to record Tsuchiya's misdeeds. Sahara is monitoring the encounter in an adjoining room, but his aforementioned jealousy often crops up when listening to their rendezvous. The movie gets a little dark during the climax, as Tsuchiya tries to "MeToo" Shirakawa. Sahara comes to the rescue, and a big brawl ensues. Despite the seriousness of the subject matter, it's not handled quite that seriously and ends with Tsuchiya's jilted lover breaking a vase over his head to comedic effect. 

What an unusual movie! I'm really glad I saw this one, as I got to see all four leads playing against type. It was also fun seeing Shirakawa play a character who drove the story but was still able to maintain her femininity and sensuality. Very well done.

Almost immediately after the movie ended, Gorath started. I should point out that both films were screened in 35mm, and both films looked fantastic. I hardly noticed a flaw. They almost looked like 4K digital remasters, but they were advertised as 35mm, so I'm going to take their word for it.

I hadn't seen Gorath in many years -- maybe more than 20. I watched it quite a few times in the 1990s, and I guess you lose the impulse to watch a movie when you know it like the back of your hand. I still think the movie is quite good, but I did find that it was just a bit too talky with a few too many bland characters (played by Ryo Ikebe, Ken Uehara, and even Takashi Shimura) taking up too much screen time. I also found Magma's death scene surprisingly sad. I'm not sure how the filmmakers wanted me to feel seeing the bloody carcass of a creature that was hardly a monster lying dead after getting killed by laser beams, but it sure wasn't good. 

Overall, though, I did enjoy it. I just don't find it as successful as The Mysterians (1957) or even Battle in Outer Space (1959). It's got a great cast, and Akira Kubo really shines in it, but it gets a bit bogged down too often in talkiness to be considered one of the greats, in my humble opinion.

Oh, and while I was checking out the National Film Archives' horror movie poster gallery, I saw this sign posted as I was buying my ticket. It's for this kaiju-themed letterpress card collection. I didn't buy it, but I thought it was worth sharing.

Seeing 'An American Werewolf in London' in 35mm in Tokyo!

The National Film Archive of Japan. Photo by Brett Homenick.

The National Film Archive of Japan hosted a screening of the horror classic An American Werewolf in London (1981) as part of its program highlighting Academy Award-winning films (Film Treasures from the Academy Film Archive). Suffice it to say, American Werewolf was one of the few horror movies featured -- in fact, it was probably the only one. (I guess I should have checked to see if it was!)

A 35mm film print was screened, and I was a bit surprised to find that it was a film print from the time it screened in Japan back in the day. The actual movie is preceded by the movie's Japanese title card (with the katakana spelling of "American" in Old Glory-style red, white, and blue with stars, almost making it seem like a straight-up comedy). This version also blurs out David Naughton's naughty bits, although the female nudity was left largely intact.

Despite the print's age, it was in good shape. There were scratches and splotches all over the place, but few jumps or other flaws that would have been too distracting. 

The theater was almost sold out, and the audience laughed heartily at the movie's humor. They also laughed in a couple of inappropriate places during which the film was clearly going in a scarier direction. Not sure if they figured the whole flick was supposed to be a joke, or if they found Rick Baker's makeup effects a bit too dated, but it did surprise me, especially for a Japanese audience.

This is my favorite werewolf movie of all time, though I have to say that I don't dig a whole lot of other ones, even the Lon Chaney, Jr., ones from Universal Pictures. I do think The Howling (1981) has superior werewolf transformations and designs -- seriously, Rob Bottin was the best at what he did -- but American Werewolf simply works much better as an overall film. 

I actually watched American Werewolf about a year and a half ago on DVD -- yes, I said DVD, not Blu-ray -- but, had I known I'd get to see John Landis' horror classic on the big screen in 35mm in the near future, I would have just waited for today's screening. It was still a lot of fun to see, as it was my first time to see it this way. 

January continues to be a heck of a busy month for film screenings. And there's still one more to go!

Attending a Screening of 'Evil of Dracula' at the National Film Archive of Japan!

A poster for Evil of Dracula on display at the National Film Archive of Japan. Photo by Brett Homenick.

This afternoon (Wednesday, December 14), I took in a screening of the Toho horror classic Evil of Dracula (1974), one of my favorite horror films. The screening was part of the Film Archive's program called "The 90th Anniversary of Toho: A Film History of Modernization and Innovation [Part 2]," which ends on December 25. This will be the only film of this program that I'll see, but what a film it is to see!

This wasn't the first time for me to see it theatrically in 35mm, and hopefully it won't be the last. It's incredibly atmospheric with a great performance by Shin Kishida as the titular vampire. The late actress Mio Ota (a.k.a. Izuhi Higashioka) also gave an excellent performance as student-turned-vampire Yukiko Mitamura, and I especially enjoyed seeing her work on the big screen. I was privileged to meet her about a year before her sudden passing, and she was as big a sweetheart as I've ever met. 

The film has some minor flaws, but they aren't really worth mentioning, as they don't affect the overall quality of the film. I wish Toho made more gothic horror movies like this one, but we'll just have to cherish the ones we have. 

I was particularly pleased to discover that more sci-fi/horror screenings will be happening early next year, which is the perfect way to kick off the New Year. I can't wait to attend those screenings, too, which I will post about here when they happen.

SPECIAL EXHIBIT AT THE NATIONAL FILM ARCHIVE OF JAPAN: 'History in Posters Part 4: Horror Films'!

The National Film Archive of Japan. Photo by Brett Homenick.

 Earlier today (Wednesday, December 14), I visited the National Film Archive of Japan and took in its special exhibit, "History in Posters Part 4: Horror Films." The gallery featured posters and other memorabilia (shooting scripts, promotional pamphlets, etc.) from horror films from all over the world. The horror movies went as far back as The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) and covered the much more recent J-horror films of the late 1990s and beyond. Shooting scripts for Japanese classics like The Invisible Man (1949) and Portrait of Hell (1969) were on display, as were assorted posters and press sheets for a variety of other great titles. I wish I could have photographed it all, but photography was limited to a specific corner of the gallery. Anyhow, here's just a taste of what I saw. Enjoy!

'Akira Kurosawa, Screenwriter,' on Display at the National Film Archive!

A sign advertising the "Akira Kurosawa, Screenwriter" exhibit outside the National Film Archive of Japan. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Earlier today, I had a long break at work, so I made my way over to the National Film Archive of Japan to view its current "Akira Kurosawa, Screenwriter" exhibit that runs until November 27. I picked a pretty good time to go, as I had the exhibit to myself most of the time I was there. 

A banner for Ran (1985) on display. Photo by Brett Homenick.

As expected, there were quite a few cool items on display. One was an American first-run poster from 1956 for Seven Samurai (1954), which was released under the title The Magnificent Seven. (Say, that title sounds vaguely familiar!) Another was Larry Forrester's second draft (dated June 5, 1967) of the Tora! Tora! Tora! (1970) screenplay. Also on display was a 650-page (!) printed version of the script that Kurosawa, Hideo Oguni, and Ryuzo Kikushima completed in May 1967. 

Additionally, there was an English translation of the final draft of Kurosawa's "The Mask of the Black Death" screenplay, which was translated by Ian Hideo Levy. The year given was 1977.

Signage for the "Akira Kurosawa, Screenwriter" exhibit. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Perhaps most interesting of all for me was the material about the unmade project "AND...!" This was a script written by Kurosawa, Hideo Oguni, and Shinobu Hashimoto, the English synopsis of which was  registered with the Writers Guild of America West on February 29, 1972. A "Memorandum of Understanding" was signed by Kurosawa and John C. Dutton on behalf of Cromwell International Pictures.

According to the memorandum, Steve McQueen was intended to have a starring role in this movie, which was to be based in and around Japan. The memorandum signed by both parties on April 10, 1971. The movie was apparently going to be an adaptation of an Ichiro Shiraishi novel about a blue-eyed samurai who was half-Japanese and half-Portuguese.

So, yes, there was a lot to see, and it was a lot more interesting than I had expected. I might even check out the exhibit one more time before it closes -- I certainly have a lot of time before that happens!

Seeing a Double Feature of 'Frankenstein Conquers the World' and 'The Mysterians'!

The National Film Archive of Japan. Photo by Brett Homenick.

On Friday, July 29, I had the privilege of viewing two Showa-era Toho classics in glorious 35mm at the National Film Archive of Japan: Frankenstein Conquers the World (1965) and The Mysterians (1957). It was part of the Archive's program entitled "The 90th Anniversary of Toho: A Film History of Modernization and Innovation," with a bevy of Toho screenings on offer all month. The only downside is that this was the only day I could attend. But what a day it was!

The poster for The Mysterians. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Frankenstein Conquers the World was screened first, and it looked better than ever in 35mm. I was surprised to see the alternate giant octopus ending used in this film print. There was no change in quality at all when the giant octopus appears, so, if you didn't know any better, you'd think that was simply the way the movie had always ended.

The poster for Las Vegas Free-for-All (1967). Photo by Brett Homenick.

The use of the alternate ending wasn't promoted in the brochure, so it makes me wonder why it was used. After the screening, I overheard one of the audience members (who was wearing an A Clockwork Orange T-shirt) on the phone to his friend (I guess), telling him that the giant octopus version was used and that it was his first time to see it. I hope it didn't make him spit out his Moloko Plus. 

The poster for Submersion of Japan (1973). Photo by Brett Homenick.

The Mysterians was shown next, and this was the big one for me. Seeing The Mysterians in 35mm was a bucket list item for me, and now I can happily scratch it off my list. It certainly didn't disappoint. This is one of my all-time favorites, and I'm so glad I finally got to see it the way it deserves to be seen. 

The poster for Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah (1991). Photo by Brett Homenick.

But that's not all! I have more movie-viewing happening tomorrow ... and the day after that. Well, sort of. You'll see what I mean. Stick around and find out!

A Special Look at Movie Theaters in Japan at the National Film Archive!

A battledore used to promote a screening of Son of Kong (1933) at Asakusa's Taishokan Theatre circa 1934, along with a photo of the Taishokan Theatre circa 1935. Photo by Brett Homenick.

The National Film Archive of Japan recently held an exhibit of movie memorabilia simply called "Movie Theatres in Japan," focusing on the advertising of theatrical screenings in pre- and postwar Japan. I went on Saturday afternoon, July 16, during a break at work, so I didn't get to spend as much time as I would have liked. Still, it was a wonderful opportunity to check out some interesting artifacts from Japan's cinematic past. Here's what I saw. Enjoy!

A closer look at the Son of Kong battledore. Photo by Brett Homenick.

A King Kong vs. Godzilla (1962) hand-painted movie billboard at the Toho Shikishima Theater in Osaka, created by Fuji Kogei. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Battle in Outer Space (1959) ballyhoo at the Osaka-based Toho Shikishima Theater. Photo by Brett Homenick.

The ei in the sign for Ibaraki Prefecture's Mito Toei Cinema, which was opened in 1960 and closed in 2006, on display at the National Film Archive. Photo by Brett Homenick. 

Publicity flags (from left to right) for Daiei's Kunio Watanabe-directed Kenka Fuji (1961), Nikkatsu's The Wandering Guitarist (1959), and Toho's Star of Hong Kong (1962). Photo by Brett Homenick. 

The Star of Hong Kong publicity flag, which was signed by Akira Takarada in September 2021. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Attending a Screening of 'Princess Kaguya' (1935)!

Today, I visited a great exhibit called Eiji Tsuburaya: On the 120th Anniversary of His Birth, which runs until November 23 at the National Film Archive of Japan. The exhibit boasts a number of fascinating items, including Tsuburaya's shooting script for Godzilla vs. the Thing (1964), Takashi Shimura's photo album from Godzilla (1954), the machine used to create the Toho logo in the 1980s, as well as an assortment of posters and miscellaneous items owned by Tsuburaya.

After viewing the exhibit, I was able to catch an afternoon screening of Princess Kaguya (1935), a 33-minute digest version of the J. O. Studios film once thought to be lost, which contains English-language opening credits, as well as a crawl explaining the story. (The print was found in the UK a few years ago.) Despite that, there are no English subtitles.

Why was this movie being shown? Eiji Tsuburaya served as cinematographer of the movie. According to the materials provided by the National Film Archive of Japan, the original title was "The Marriage of Princess Kaguya," and it was promoted as a "cine operetta with Japanese music." That makes sense, as the movie essentially plays like a musical.

This version of the story is also less of a fantasy than other tellings (especially the 1987 Toho film Princess from the Moon) and is more comedic. The ending of the film in which the main characters get away from the bad guys right under their noses got a big laugh from the audience. Aside from the opening scenes in which the titular princess is found inside a shining bamboo, there is not much tokusatsu.

The materials also highlighted Tsuburaya's revolutionary use of a crane in his cinematography, and that was quite evident in the film. I'd say the movie's cinematography is quite innovative for 1935, though it wouldn't likely turn many heads today. 

All in all, the film was quite enjoyable, and it certainly seemed more ambitious than a lot of other films made at the time (and even years later) with static camera work. That being said, I'm not sure that folks should feel the need to book a plane ticket to fly halfway across the world to see it. For those primarily interested in tokusatsu, the highlights are easily available on the Internet.

They say that Eiji Tsuburaya is the Master of Tokusatsu, and this exhibit certainly highlights that fact. What an incredible way to celebrate his 120th anniversary!

The Lost World of Rashomon!

Signage outside the National Film Archive of Japan. Photo by Brett Homenick.

Today, I took in a screening of the Toho fantasy actioner The Lost World of Sinbad (1963) at the National Film Archive of Japan, which was shown as part of its current "Toshiro Mifune Retrospective at His Centenary" film program. I hadn't seen the film since the early 2000s, which is when I wrote a fanzine article on it. The Lost World of Sinbad has never been my favorite tokusatsu film, and I think writing that article made me permanently sick of it. Familiarity breeds contempt, as they say.

A replica of the flag from Seven Samurai. Photo by Brett Homenick.

I give the movie credit for its lavish production values and all-star cast, but it otherwise feels flat and uninspired. Still, it looked glorious in 35mm, and hearing Masaru Sato's masterful score was a treat.

 After watching the film, I visited the NFAJ's "Rashomon at the 70th Anniversary" exhibit, which had  a lot of interesting memorabilia from the film, including the scripts used by Toshiro Mifune, Takashi Shimura, and script supervisor Teruyo Nogami on display. I found this exhibit much more interesting than the Shochiku one I visited a couple of months ago. It was certainly a fascinating morning and afternoon spent with the works of Toshiro Mifune.