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| I'm sure just looking at an advertisement for Toho Cinemas' Mega Popcorn would still give Hirona Yamazaki indigestion. Photo by Brett Homenick. |
TIRED: What is a king to a god?
WIRED: What is a god to a mid-level bureaucrat?
With the recent re-release of Shin Godzilla (2016) in 4K in the U.S., I thought I might as well revisit the movie I once considered the worst of the entire series (that is, until even worse ones came along). Prior to this screening, I'd only seen the flick once, and that was on opening day in July 2016. Nine years later, would my opinion change?
I'm afraid not. During my initial viewing, I found the movie mostly aggravating and annoying. This time, I found it boring. The movie held my attention for the first 30 minutes or so, and then the endless chatting finally started to wear me out. Just before becoming bored to distraction around the one-hour mark, my mind, for reasons I cannot explain, suddenly wandered to this quote from Heat (1995):
Overall, the thing that surprised me most was just how bad some of the CG was, especially for objects in motion. Since Godzilla is mostly static, even when he's attacking the city, the computer graphics fare much better, but I knew I was in trouble when the VFX for the tunnel collapse a few minutes in looked like they were leftovers from the '90s.
Even if the CG were up to par, though, it still wouldn't make the proceedings any less preposterous. The movie makes it clear right out of the gate that the old guard in charge of the government are a bunch of bumbling old fools who are out of their depth. In contrast, the younger generation, with less power and experience, are the ones who solve all the problems and ultimately save the day.
This outcome, of course, is telegraphed in broad strokes in the first few minutes of the movie, so the audience is left to wait for the special committee of youthful nerds, outcasts, and true believers to devise the solutions that the geezers in power lack the fortitude, or the will, to do.
The fogie politicians are mostly hapless stereotypes, not actual human beings, who can't help but make a mess of everything they touch. The youngsters, on the other hand, are obnoxiously earnest, making few, if any, mistakes as the story unfolds, and they accurately predict outcomes and problem-solve novel issues in ways so ingenious and flawless that it'd make Criswell suspect fraud.
A lot of the discourse on this movie hinges on whether the story, and its portrayal of the Japanese government, is "nationalistic." I never got that impression from it, though that wouldn't stop nationalists from trying to coopt its message as their own. I don't think Shin Godzilla has much of a message at all beyond "status quo bad," but I guess it's more fun to pretend otherwise.
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What seems to be GKIDS' poster for the Shin Godzilla 4K re-release, focusing on Kamata-kun's attack on Shinagawa. Photo by Brett Homenick.
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The excessively-realistic portrayal of government bureaucracy juxtaposed with the bonkers depiction of Godzilla in all his gloopy forms leads to some unintentional ridiculousness. When Kamata-kun (I guess we're stuck with that name, so...) first appears, in all its derpy glory, none of the characters -- not one -- comments on the insanity of being attacked by a raging Muppet from the bottom of the sea. Instead, characters marvel at the biological superiority of the thing, even though it can't take three steps without spilling its blood everywhere.
Later on, after Godzilla takes his final form, the characters can't stop cooing about how Godzilla is a god incarnate. I mean, my guy is asleep for much of his screen time; you'd think a living, breathing deity could stay awake longer than most narcoleptics could. In one of those rare moments when he is awake, he's simply standing around doing nothing and does so long enough for the prime minister to abort the attack on him out of fear that civilians might be killed, politely waiting for his cue to begin attacking again.
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Shin Godzilla in November 2016 at the Hotel Gracery Shinjuku. Photo by Brett Homenick.
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One of the reasons An American Werewolf in London (1981) is called a comedy -- and why it endures as a bona fide classic -- is because writer-director John Landis knew that, in real-world situations, people would make jokes and crack wise when faced with illogical or impossible scenarios, such as transforming into a werewolf.
I mean, sure, you'd have your crazies and weirdos who would want to worship the beast as their shrugging savior or whatever, but I tend to think highly-educated government officials would not be among them. People grounded in reality would react a lot more like David Naughton and Griffin Dunne did and less like power-fantasy-obsessed oddballs wanting to start a cult.
As for the characters, there's nothing to say. They are just bureaucrats, and that's it. Shortly after I posted my negative review of the movie in 2016, one guy argued that the movie actually did have fascinating, complex characters and cited the one played by the picture of Kihachi Okamoto as an example. If only Okamoto hadn't died more than 10 years before he was cast in the film, I'm sure he would have basked in the critical praise of his performance.
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Photo by Brett Homenick.
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The inclusion of the character of Kayoco Ann Patterson is truly baffling, as it betrays a complete lack of understanding of American politics on the part of the filmmakers. The idea that a leather jacket-sporting party girl could get elected president -- in her 40s, no less -- as easily as it's suggested in the movie is downright laughable and discrediting to the narrative.
Speaking of, I'm reminded of an interview I recently read with a published author on the Godzilla series, who made it a point in the Q&A to share his memory of watching Godzilla vs. Gigan (1972) in the early '90s and how stupid he found a particular scene involving the ability of the earthbound characters to hear the roars of the space monsters on a radio receiver. Apparently, this scene, which in all years I've watched it never made me think twice, was so hilarious that he loves recounting how much he laughed at it to anyone who will listen.
Given that this guy was proud of himself to the point of absurdity that a children's monster movie couldn't outsmart him, I can't help but wonder what kind of hysterics the suggestion of U.S. President Kayoco Ann Patterson sent our heroic scholar into. I know which is sillier, but do our fandom sacred cows?
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| Teruyoshi Nakano with Shin Godzilla in December 2016. Photo by Brett Homenick. |
OK, enough about the movie. I do have a couple of random odds and ends to share, so let's get to them.
In December 2014, I had an end-of-the-year party hosted by my work with all my co-workers, even the ones I rarely ever saw. One of those co-workers was Tom Dolan, who'd been cast in small parts in Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla II (1993) as G-Force member John Conner and Godzilla vs. SpaceGodzilla (1994) as the dastardly gang leader McKay.
I was excited to meet him due to his connection with the Heisei Godzilla series, but I had no idea he was months away from getting cast as Graham Cussley, the American diplomat whose face we never see, who reminds Kayoco Ann Patterson of her ambition to become U.S. president in her 40s.
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With Tom Dolan in December 2014.
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This was the only time I met and spoke with Tom, and I didn't really get a chance until we were leaving the party. We took the photo in this blog post in the subway while waiting for the train. We have communicated via email since then, but it's been years since I've heard from him. Hope he's doing well and living the dream.
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| With Teruyoshi Nakano in December 2016. |
In June 2015, I was
given the iggy by a Westerner who had appeared in tokusatsu productions that two talent agencies were casting the international roles for
Shin Godzilla and gave me their information in case I wanted to audition. Naturally, I couldn't pass up such an opportunity, so I applied with both. I don't remember what happened with one of the agencies -- either they never got back to me, or we had a brief communication that went nowhere.
But the other one was interested, and I was called in to get some promo shots done and fill out some paperwork. I put on a dress shirt and tie, went into the agency, got my pictures taken, completed the forms, and talked with the gentleman who, as I recall, was in charge of the business. I made it clear I was mostly interested in Shin Godzilla, though I would be happy to consider other work, too. I remember he said I might be a good candidate for a scientist role in the movie (not sure which -- he never specified), but that's about it.
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| Shigeo Kato in June 2016, standing near the location where Shin Godzilla comes ashore in Kamakura. Photo by Brett Homenick. |
Back then, I worked six days a week at my real job, so, realistically, I knew getting cast was essentially a pipe dream, but you're not going to get anywhere if you don't try. Besides, I like to think that Hideaki Anno personally rejected my head shot.
I still could have been in Shin Godzilla, though. If I recall correctly, the crowd scene in Kamata (where we first see Kamata-kun) was filmed in early September, and, since they needed lots and lots of extras, anyone was welcome to show up. As mentioned above, I was working six days a week, and 2015 was an incredibly busy year for me -- in the best way possible. It was my favorite year in Japan because of all the cool stuff I was doing. If I'm not mistaken, filming took place on a Sunday morning, which was my one day off for the week. I also happened not to have anything scheduled that day -- a rarity for 2015. I mean, it's a lock I'd head over to Kamata and appear in a Godzilla movie, right?
Wrong. I missed sleeping in and wanted to do just that. Besides, I figured, if it was meant to be, I'd get cast in a proper role in the movie. As slim as it was, there was still a chance of that, I thought, so I chose sleep over Shin Godzilla.
