The Scoop: This is Toho's follow-up to the success of "Godzilla, King of the Monsters" (1954) and "Godzilla Raids Again" (1955), and if you can get past the endless stock footage of nuclear testing at the beginning, you're home free.
Well, almost. From there, you have to contend with the lead character's ridiculous, film noir-esque voice-over narration and a much delayed appearance of the monster (a giant winged thing that stomps on stuff, pretty much just like in every other Toho monster movie). Even by the cheesy low standards of vintage kaiju flicks, this one is pretty tepid. But on the plus side, among the American voice over cast is George ("Mr. Sulu") Takei in his first professional acting job.
Best Line: "If this thing you call Rodan is extinct, why is it still alive?"
Side Note: This was Toho's first full-color monster movie.
One of the many fun things about the late, great "Mystery Science Theater 3000" was their annual all-day Turkey Day Marathons for Thanksgiving. Hour after hour after hour of bad movies -- what's not to love? So this year we're doing a Desuko Turkey Day Marathon of our own -- five days of Desuko reviews of movies that have been featured on MST3K. Here's experiment #K04 and #304, "Gamera vs. Barugon." (Originally published March 9, 2009):
The Scoop: The flying turtle madness continues!
Let's move on to the second installment in the Gamera franchise, "Gamera vs. Barugon." This time around not only is the action in color, but Gamera also makes the leap from nuclear-spawned menace to friendly protector of the Earth, just like Godzilla did in his series a decade earlier.
The bad guy role is filled by Barugon, a four-legged dinosaur/lizard/dog type thing who shoots a hilariously non-menacing rainbow ray from his back, and who can also freeze things with his tongue. Quite the odd combination, but trust me, this is one of least strange things we'll see in this series.
Some treasure hunters set the plot in motion when they bring a giant opal back to civilization, only to discover that the opal is actually an egg. Pretty soon, out pops Barugon, who proceeds to stomp the crap out of the parts of Tokyo that hadn't previously been stomped in the other kaiju movies. Finally, Gamera shows up to put the critter in his place.
On the human side we get the usual roles we're used to seeing in these movies -- committed scientist, bland girlfriend, rigid military brass, etc. They're played ably enough by the likes of Kojiro Hondo, Kyoko Emani, Yuzo Hayakawa and Takuya Fujioka, but there's really not much for them to do. Even Gamera doesn't get much to do other than show up at the end to lay the smack down.
This is pretty much the Barugon show from start to finish, resulting in what is easily the most boring of the Gamera series.
Best Line: "That monster destroys everything with his tongue!"
Side Note: The original Japanese title is "Daikaiju Keto: Gamera tai Barugon" (literally translated, "Giant Monster Duel: Gamera Against Barugon"). When American International Pictures bought the film for U.S. distribution in the late 1960s, they cut 14 minutes of footage and retitled it "War of the Monsters." In the 1980s, Sandy Frank secured the video distribution rights. He restored the missing footage, redubbed the dialogue and retitled the whole thing "Gamera vs. Barugon." So which version should you see? Frankly, it doesn't really matter since the missing footage is so yawn-inducing, it doesn't actually detract from the movie. But it sure makes it go by quicker.
Companion Viewing: Any other Gamera or Godzilla film you can get your hands on.
The Scoop: Stop me if you’ve heard this one before – a grizzled warrior must help a feisty princess escape from the clutches of an evil empire, with the help of a pair of bumbling accomplices who prove to be heroic in spite of themselves.
That’s the plot of Akira Kurosawa’s wonderful “The Hidden Fortress.” But throw in a naïve farm boy, an amoral smuggler and a Wookiee and you’ve got seed for Obi-Wan Kenobi’s rescue of Princess Leia from the Death Star in “Star Wars.” George Lucas has famously cited “The Hidden Fortress” as the inspiration for his first “Star Wars” story, from which the rest of his complicated universe sprang.
Besides the spine of the plot, several other details were borrowed by Lucas, especially the early scenes introducing bickering peasant buddies Tahei and Matakishi, which resurfaced in R2-D2 and C-3PO’s adventures on Tatooine.
But while it’s fun to play “spot the inspiration,” it’s a mistake to judge “The Hidden Fortress” solely in the light of “Star Wars.” It’s another rousing samurai adventure from Kurosawa that more than stands on its own.
Toshiro Mifune is incredible as always as Makabe, the wise, battle weary general who must protect tomboyish teenage Princess Yuki (Misa Uehara) and her kingdom’s stash of gold, then smuggle them to safety in neighboring Hayawaka. Their native land of Azikuzi has been overrun by armies from Yamana, but once in Hayakawa, Yuki will be able to use the told to rebuild her army and take back her lands.
They find their ticket out with appearance of Tahei (Minoru Chiaki) and Matakishi (Kamatari Fujiwara), who just want to escape from the war and return to their homes in Hayakawa. Thanks to their unwitting assistance, the foursome is able to stay one step ahead of the pursuing Yamana soldiers, but not without plenty of hardship and comic relief on the way.
This isn’t Kurosawa’s best samurai epic, nor is it one of the first that springs to mind when thinking about his classics – but don’t consider that an insult. “The Hidden Fortress” easily stands alongside the likes of “The Seven Samurai,” “Yojimbo” or “Rashomon.” But if it doesn’t quite reach their heights, it’s still better than most other action/adventure fare from lesser directors. Kurosawa was one of the masters of cinema; we’d expect nothing less from him.
Best Bit: The escape on horseback.
Side Note: It wouldn't be a Kurosawa samurai classic without Mifune -- the two made 16 films together in a 17 year stretch from 1948 to 1965.
Companion Viewing: "Star Wars – Episode IV: A New Hope" (1977) and "The Seven Samurai" (1954).
Let's move on to the second installment in the Gamera franchise, "Gamera vs. Barugon." This time around not only is the action in color, but Gamera also makes the leap from nuclear-spawned menace to friendly protector of the Earth, just like Godzilla did in his series a decade earlier.
The bad guy role is filled by Barugon, a four-legged dinosaur/lizard/dog type thing who shoots a hilariously non-menacing rainbow ray from his back, and who can also freeze things with his tongue. Quite the odd combination, but trust me, this is one of least strange things we'll see in this series.
Some treasure hunters set the plot in motion when they bring a giant opal back to civilization, only to discover that the opal is actually an egg. Pretty soon, out pops Barugon, who proceeds to stomp the crap out of the parts of Tokyo that hadn't previously been stomped in the other kaiju movies. Finally, Gamera shows up to put the critter in his place.
On the human side we get the usual roles we're used to seeing in these movies -- committed scientist, bland girlfriend, rigid military brass, etc. They're played ably enough by the likes of Kojiro Hondo, Kyoko Emani, Yuzo Hayakawa and Takuya Fujioka, but there's really not much for them to do. Even Gamera doesn't get much to do other than show up at the end to lay the smack down.
This is pretty much the Barugon show from start to finish, resulting in what is easily the most boring of the Gamera series.
Best Line: "That monster destroys everything with his tongue!"
Side Note: The original Japanese title is "Daikaiju Keto: Gamera tai Barugon" (literally translated, "Giant Monster Duel: Gamera Against Barugon"). When American International Pictures bought the film for U.S. distribution in the late 1960s, they cut 14 minutes of footage and retitled it "War of the Monsters." In the 1980s, Sandy Frank secured the video distribution rights. He restored the missing footage, redubbed the dialogue and retitled the whole thing "Gamera vs. Barugon." So which version should you see? Frankly, it doesn't really matter since the missing footage is so yawn-inducing, it doesn't actually detract from the movie. But it sure makes it go by quicker.
Companion Viewing: Any other Gamera or Godzilla film you can get your hands on.
Take a Look: Not too many clips or info online on this one (it's got a much lower profile than the other 1960s Gamera movies, mostly due to its quality), so here's the first part of the "Mystery Science Theater 3000" treatment. Click through for more:
The Scoop: The folks at Japan's Daiei Studios wanted to compete with Toho in the kaiju arena by creating their own monster movie series to rival "Godzilla." So they came up with this -- a black and white film about a nuclear explosion that awakens an evil monster. (Kinda sounds familiar, doesn't it?)
Unfortunately, they miscalculated a bit -- turtles, even giant ones, just aren't that scary. So, even at his most fearsome, Gamera is no match for the original lizard king himself.
The plot is almost a complete rehash of "Godzilla" -- a nuclear explosion in the Arctic awakens Gamera, who has been sleeping under the ice for millenia. Of course he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed and goes on a worldwide rampage looking for energy. A group of scientists try everything they can to stop him, but to no avail. Instead (and this is the only original wrinkle in the formula), it is up to young boy with a special link to Gamera to put a stop to his rampage.
The results just don't hold a candle to the first "Godzilla" movie. Not only are the writing and directing weak in comparison, but the effects are laughable and Gamera comes off as more humorous than threatening. It is no wonder that as the series continued, he was quickly made into a good guy who, as the script of every film likes to remind us, "is the friend to all children."
The film's American distribution rights were bought by schlock-meister Sandy Frank, who dubbed it, recut it, shot some new footage and released it as "Gammera the Invincible." For years, that version was the only one available in the United States. If you have a choice, opt for the original if you can. That doesn't necessarily mean it's better, but at least you'll be seeing it as the director intended.
Best Bit: Old Man: "I guess that flying saucer I saw was really Gamera." Old Woman: "As the old saying goes, 'We see terrible things if we look too long.'"
Side Note: "Gamera" was the last of Japan's tidal wave of monster movies to filmed in black and white.
Companion Viewing: "Godzilla, King of the Monsters" (1955) and the rest of the "Gamera" series.
The Scoop: With all his bone-headed bravado, Steve Reeves makes a much better Hercules than Kevin Sorbo, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Reg Park, or any of the other actors who also became associated with the role. And this production, the former Mr. Universe's first outing in the character and imported to this country by Joseph E. Levine, is responsible for starting the cycle of Italian muscle epics that dominated the drive-ins in the late 1950s and early 1960s.
Ostensibly an adaptation of Herc's familiar story, this is actually a conglomeration of various Greek myths, thrown together Cuisinart-style for our enjoyment. Just don't look to this for any kind of accuracy. Sure, we get to see him perform some of his famous labors, but he mixes it up with the Amazons, hogs all the credit for Jason's recovery of the Golden Fleece, and even gets to do his best Samson impression.
This film is also a milestone in many ways. In his marketing of the movie in the U.S., Levine pioneered the concept of "saturation booking," in which a film is released on as many screens as possible on its opening weekend in an effort to maximize its up-front gross. This is standard practice among Hollywood blockbusters even to this day. Its success also single-handedly created the "sword and sandal" genre that would dominate the Italian film industry for the next decade.
"Hercules" is fun, albeit in a mindless, lazy Sunday afternoon sort of way. The undemanding story is pulled off with energy and bravado (something that certainly can't be said for the legions of imitators this film spawned) and Reeves seems perfectly comfortable in some of the most ridiculous circumstances. The cinematography in particular is impressive, but that should come as no surprise because it was handled by Italy's maestro of the art, Mario Bava.
Best Line: "The time goes slowly here at sea. I think I'll start a calendar -- one notch for each day."
Side Note: The tagline for the original U.S. release described Hercules as "Half god! Half pagan!"
The Scoop: This early directorial effort by Dario Argento is the final film of his so-called "animal trilogy" that started with "Cat o' Nine Tails" and "The Bird With the Crystal Plumage." It is also pretty much indistinguishable from his other early films -- same Hitchcockian aspirations, same plot themes, same visual artistry. The man practically invented the "giallo" subgenre of Italian thrillers, but he just seems to be on cruise control here.
The story concerns a rock drummer (played by Michael Brandon) who kills a man in self-defense, only to be blackmailed my someone who witnessed the killing. Anyone who has seen any other Argento murder mystery will already be familiar with the plot's twists and turns, and probably even guess the blackmailer's identity well before the end.
The film is great to look at and the attention to bloody detail is a gorehound's delight, but the uninvolving story, lifeless acting and oddly misplaced bits of humor conspire to make this one of the Italian master's lesser films. Which is probably just as well, since it's very difficult to find anymore, with no current commercial release in the United States. Unless you're a completist, do yourself a favor and stick to his better and more readily available work.
Best Line: "Oh, you heterosexuals!"
Side Note: Brandon, who does a merely marginal job portraying the drumming hero, was far from Argento's first choice for the role. Among those who couldn't do it for one reason or another were Michael York, Terence Stamp, singer/songwriter James Taylor and even two Beatles -- John Lennon and Ringo Starr.
Companion Viewing: "The Bird With the Crystal Plumage" (1970) and "Cat o' Nine Tails" (1971).
The whole film is available on YouTube in installments, but the audio and video quality is pretty poor. But if you want to stick it out, more power to you. It begins here:
The Scoop: My last post about the Spanish language version of "Dracula" got me to thinking about this film. "El Mundo de los Vampiros" (a.k.a., "The World of the Vampires") is a terrifically moody, atmospheric Mexican horror movie that is a throwback to the classic Universal horrors of the 1930s.
Unfortunately, I've only seen the non-subtitled version of the film (shown on a local Spanish language station), so I have virtually no idea what the plot entails (something about a deadly song), or if it's as good as I imagine it. Given the pedigrees of the folks involved, it's quite possible that it sucks. But, man-oh-man, is it beautiful and creepy to look at. Definitely worth a look-see if you come across it, especially if you don't speak Spanish and can fill in your own more-interesting plot as it goes along.
Best Line: No habla Español. Sorry.
Side Note: Director Alfonso Corona Blake also directed those two Mexican wrestling/horror epics, "Santo vs. the Vampire Women" (1961) and "Santo in the Wax Museum" (1963).
Companion Viewing: The Spanish version of "Dracula" (1931).
The Scoop: For a short time in the early days of the sound era, before subtitling and dubbing came into their own, Hollywood studios solved the problem of supplying films for the foreign marketplace by filming alternate language versions of their productions that were exact line-for-line replicas. Many were second-rate hack jobs, but some, like this version of the Bela Lugosi vehicle, are top-notch, even surpassing the English versions.
This alternate version of "Dracula," directed by George Melford (with language assistance by Enrique Tovar Avalos), was shot after hours on the same sets as the English version. However, the stodginess of Tod Browning's film is supplanted by a gorgeous gothic mood that is only hinted at in the more well-known version. The script, too, features little flashes of the underlying sexuality of the story which never made it into the English-language version. In addition, Melford elicited stronger performances from his Spanish-speaking cast, especially Lupita Tovar (as Eva, the count's love interest) and Pablo Alvarez Rubio (as Renfield).
Carlos Villariás was a ham who couldn't match Lugosi's charisma in the title role, and Spanish speakers may notice the mismatching accents and wooden line readings. But these turn out to be minor quibbles given the excellence of the rest of the production.
The film was initially given a VHS release with English subtitles, but is most widely available now as part of the "Dracula Legacy" DVD collection without subtitles. However, the closed caption function can be used to provide English subtitles. At any rate, don't overlook this obscure gem.
Best Bit: Renfield's seduction by the three brides of Dracula.
Side Note: Shortly after production finished, Tovar married the film's producer Paul Kohner, who went on to be one of the most powerful agents in Hollywood. Their daughter Susan Kohner was nominated for an Oscar for her supporting role in "Imitation of Life" (1959).
Companion Viewing: "Dracula" (1931) and "El Mundo de los Vampyros" (1960).
The Scoop:
