Godzilla Minus One: Strengths and Stupidities Part One

By Joe Gibson

 

Here, at Plan9Crunch, but also at our YouTube page, I like to revisit, review and even rank kaiju and tokusatu franchises (links to some of the relevant videos and articles at the end of this one). This review of Godzilla Minus One has long been in the works, but I wrote it as a video essay you will be able to see in full on our YouTube page at the end of this week. Consequently, there is some content missing from this three part blog post version.

 

Introduction: All Roads Lead To Godzilla Minus One

 

Takashi Yamazaki has long had a working relationship with Toho. After 2004’s Godzilla Final Wars, Godzilla the franchise went on hiatus indefinitely, only resurrected by Yoshimitsu Banno’s efforts that eventually culminated in Legendary’s 2014 film. But Godzilla, the character and pop culture icon, still remained in public consciousness and through references in movies. Toho permitted Takashi Yamazaki to include a version of Godzilla in a dream sequence in the film Always Sunset On Third Street 2 (2007). From that Godzilla, you can see the ways Yamazaki was experimenting with Godzilla designs integrating features from past designs as well as his own flourishes.

 

 

Takashi Yamazaki is the director and writer and led special effects on Godzilla Minus One. For one thing, that means that if the film truly is as good as everyone says from all of those standpoints, he is a genius, but also, it means that his vision is uniquely captured in this movie being the way it is. This film is a period piece, taking place between 1945 and 1947; the Always Sunset trilogy films are also period pieces set mid 20th century. Many concepts, shots and characters in this movie deliberately homage ones from the original 1954 Godzilla film, Godzilla, Mothra, King Ghidorah Giant Monsters All Out Attack 2001, Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla 2002, Godzilla 2014 and Godzilla vs Kong 2021. I will call those out when we get there, but while those shots originated elsewhere, Yamazaki is placing them in his own new context, same as the music tracks from 54, King Kong vs Godzilla and Mothra vs Godzilla.

 

And Yamazaki has other experience directing Godzilla with his theme park attraction Godzilla The Ride displaying his take on a kaiju battle involving Godzilla (looking so close to his later Minus One design it is uncanny), Rodan, and King Ghidorah. Toho had approached Yamazaki to make a film for them shortly after his Always Sunset 2 scene, but he was waiting for the technology to catch up to his vision, and Godzilla The Ride proved that it had.

 

 

With all of this context in mind, we can get into some disclaimers, a piece of trivia to set the tone of this review and then the review proper.

 

T Minus One: Countdown To Review

 

The main Godzilla design in Godzilla Minus One (the one featured post “atomic baptism” in the traditional Godzilla posture as opposed to the T-Rex esque Odo Island form) is 50.1 meters tall. Why is that?

 

To start, the original Godzilla was 50 meters and so was his Showa series successor. The Heisei revival brought him up to 80 and ultimately 100 meters to contrast against higher skylines, while the Millennium series oscillated around 50 meters again to make the miniature sets more detailed (but then they included worse CG than before, so…) with Final Wars returning Godzilla to 100 meters tall. Then, after 2014, a little bit of an arms race commenced in regards to Godzilla’s size. The 2014 Legendary one was 108 meters, and 2016’s Shin Godzilla (from Toho once again) was 118.5 meters, so Legendary’s Godzilla grew to be 119.8 meters, just barely edging out Shin Godzilla. While all this happened, two Godzilla animes came out. Godzilla Singular Point released later but entered production sooner and featured a Godzilla that was 45 meters tall until it abruptly grew to 100 meters, while the Monster Planet trilogy has a Godzilla that was 300 meters tall…and nobody has tried to beat Monster Planet Goji’s size.

 

While it would seem based on all this that this is in keeping with a decade long trend of one upping previous Godzilla sizes, it is actually a more mundane and insightful answer. Yamazaki wanted this Godzilla to be 50 meters like the original but also wanted to place emphasis on the dorsal fins of Godzilla to where they peak over his head as a crown. The effects team measured from toe to dorsal fin tip, which resulted in the extra .1 meters. This film and creative team is not guided by petty size increases but an attention to detail in their own product that no one would have expected to that degree. Keep that in mind for when we get to the review. Whatever issues I have with the film do not diminish the care that went into this film (unlike Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, where the crew admitted on the commentary track that they stopped caring about the details). And in case you’re wondering about the size of Godzilla’s smaller Odo Island form, that is 15 meters.

 

I should lay out a few terms before I delve especially deep into the movie. I personally define art through it being the creation of a human to express something, often a theme, and I believe it is possible though often difficult to analyze art to find out whether its expression is consistent (good) or inconsistent (bad). Conversely, I tend to think of literature as art which earns serious consideration and downright warrants study into its textual, subtextual or metatextual tendencies in relaying themes and concepts. Forgive me if these are nonstandard definitions; if you have better words to describe these ideas, please share them. But that is what I would like to concern myself with today. 

 

All Godzilla films are art, and I like to evaluate them based on the internal consistency of their text because that is how I can measure a film easiest, the structural integrity of its story. However, it quickly becomes apparent that some films are special for how they develop their plot and characters, allegory or presentation in the chosen medium, and there is more to learn from it than just the component pieces of its story. The thing is that even though such films are absolute masterclasses in whichever category, that does not guarantee them to be flawless on my scale of internal consistency, which I find to be the most important consideration for a review such as this. I find the storytelling in Attack on Titan (an anime/manga about humanity fighting humanoid giant monsters) for instance, to be brilliant for how it portrays the cycle of war and radicalization first through subtext and then just as text, but major plot beats in seasons 1 and 3 rely on just actual plot holes about the Colossal Titan especially. A score out of 10 has to factor in the best and worst parts of a story, which is why I go about searching for the merits and flaws of the given work. It might be weird to hold a mature philosophy lesson to the same standard as a popcorn flick, but I want to give every film the same fair shot on the same scale, so if something I consider literature makes a mistake I would criticize in mere art, I have to consider that in my final score and in general.

 

I have said this before, but it bears repeating, that there are three areas you are sure to eventually disagree with in my analyses: 1. The flaws and merits each of us notice. 2. Our evaluation of the severity of those flaws and merits (how much they should affect a score). 3. Our comparison of those to other relevant examples. At the end of Godzilla Minus One, lead character Shikishima will fly the Shinden plane perfectly on his first try while recovering from very recent swelling around the eye. I noticed this on my first watchthrough, and I have gone back and forth on how big of an issue I think it is. This should technically impede his ability to do this to a substantial degree, but the movie consistently emphasizes the skills of Shikishima (the opening scene of the movie establishes his skill through his perfect landing on Odo island). Suspending disbelief feels like a cop-out to me in this case, because if Shikishima were compromised by depth perception issues, Godzilla would have chomped down on him during one of the moments it was Shikishima’s own skill navigating him around the kaiju’s body. This is where I would compare it to other media to compare my thoughts on how egregious other similar examples are. Not to commit a “whataboutism” and deflect discourse of an issue to a different show, what I have to do is consider if a movie I consider worse featured a similar plot point and if the context for it in that film is better or worse. You will see an example of that thought process later on in the review.

 

Plot Runthrough w/ Analysis

 

 

I will start with a conclusion and structure some of the summary I inevitably include to prove this point. Shikishima’s journey is central to the structure of this narrative (obvious) and consequently the meticulous detailing to his arc and the story surrounding him makes him the best realized character in the film and probably the franchise as a whole. The nuance in this portrayal of PTSD and suicidal ideation is unique even though he is building upon other characters in this archetype Tsujimori and Akane from Godzilla vs Megaguirus and Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla who both also partake in a cold open battle against Godzilla that costs lives of people around them and affects their self worth. What sets this movie apart from those though is how this already increased runtime grounds us in Shikishima’s perspective compared to the more ensemble nature of those previous films.

 

Cold Open

 

After some logos for Toho and the “70th anniversary production,” which proves my point that Toho considers this such, we open on Ensign Koichi Shikishima (Lieutenant in the novelization apparently, I don’t know if you can be both), a kamikaze pilot, in the closing months of World War 2. Shikishima lands on Odo Island for mechanics to look at his rig, and, though this is less obvious in the film, the runway is covered in bombing holes, so our very first impression of Shikishima is his great skill at piloting. The novelization by Takashi Yamazaki himself represents sort of a director’s cut version that elaborates on these minor details, but the English translation is not out yet, so I only have access to reporting on what it says, and it seemingly emphasizes the bombing holes during Shikishima’s landing. Also, despite the fact that Yamazaki uses the novel to answer questions about the film, I do not like using external media in that way, and every time I bring up something from a novelization that you could not reasonably glean from the film, that is an issue. In this case, most novel exclusive details are still possible to interpret from the film itself however.

 

Tachibana interrogates Shikishima about the actual problem with this plane’s rig (there is nothing wrong with the engine or fuel line), but, after Shikishima walks off to the shore, another mechanic, apparently named Saito, confides that he agrees with Shikishima’s decision. This is realistic in that the mechanics would all have differing perspectives due to being different people all involved in a war, but it also foreshadows that despite Tachibana being in a leadership role to these people, they will disobey him at their own discretion, such as when they all fire on Godzilla, despite his protests, sealing their fate. In any case, after Saito and Shikishima talk, deep sea fish float up to the surface, each one malformed from the explosive decompression of moving up from underwater depths with Godzilla as fast as he does. (If you’re wondering why that does not kill or harm him even before getting mutated by the nuke, one of the few things I do know about Yamazaki’s authorial intent that made it into the novel and not the film is that Godzillasaurus here already has a healing factor for whatever reason.)

 

Some users of TVTropes seem to believe that, had Godzilla not attacked, the Odo Island crew, particularly Saito would have sabotaged Koichi’s plane in order to back up his story about the malfunction and save his life. I do not see any evidence of that in the movie (for the majority of the runtime, Shikishima is convinced the ghosts of this crew want him dead and punished for Odo island), but I also do not think Saito’s name is ever spoken in the film, so the tropers may have access to other information than I have, be it a translation of the film’s official novelization or statements from Takashi Yamazaki.

 

The emergence of the deep sea fish references the trilobite in Godzilla 1954, but these fish appear throughout the movie and not just once (so what could be a mere reference becomes a motif). Also, once Godzilla becomes larger, it seems he brings up larger and more plentiful specimens, foreshadowing the mechanics of the plan to defeat him, but we’ll get there eventually. I somewhat question why evidence of Godzilla’s arrival is on the shore to the left of the landing strip where Shikishima sits, whereas Godzilla attacks from behind trees on the right side of the landing strip. First, the film implies a small time skip between the two scenes, but this is also important for establishing Godzilla as a living and thinking creature in this film. And, yes, as far as I have heard, the novelization includes a dinner scene between the fish and Godzilla appearing. As far as what I can observe in the film, I see a Godzilla already using the dark and tree obstructions to mask his approach, acting intelligently from the very beginning. As this assault continues, you will notice that Godzilla spares Shikishima and Tachibana, the only two who do not fire upon him. As for those two, Tachibana orders the other men around intelligently, subverting Godzilla’s advantage by shining a light on him and ordering retreat to the trenches, eventually sending just Shikishima to his plane to fire the gun. The existence of this trench seems to imply a less than cordial initial occupation of the island, which the bombing holes in the runway might confirm, but there seems to be at least a functional relationship between these mechanics and the natives.

 

A very quick throwaway line reveals some of the Odo island mechanics have discussed Godzilla with the natives, and this is frankly enough to get the point across but feels incomplete without the context of how the Odo Island villagers acted and responded in the original film in your head. There was debate there between the older, more conservative villagers and the younger ones as well as a component of human sacrifice in order to offset food shortages and satiate the beast (also likely a King Kong reference). The movie stands on its own merits, but it is better for the audience if you have the context for at least 1954’s film and probably Godzilla vs King Ghidorah 1991 where the imagery of a pre-nuke dinosaur form for Godzilla attacking WW2 soldiers on an island originated. In terms of how this film references and celebrates the previous films in the franchise, it oscillates between elevating the concepts, just reproducing them and merely alluding to them, which is a caveat I will put on the overall use of references and fanservice.

 

Shikishima is unable to stop himself from shaking to fire on Godzilla, so the mechanics do so instead, even trying to lure Godzilla back to Koichi after he wanders to the trench. Every person that fires on Godzilla (be it a beam of light or actual firearm) dies by Godzilla’s hand (or teeth or tail), and it is interesting he stopped just short of killing Tachibana and Shikishima too. It is equally interesting but far less important to the portrayal of Godzilla that he also already has fresh scars from something in his CGI texture body in this scene. We only see Godzilla in this film through the perspective of Shikishima, almost as this demon embodying the personal wounds and regrets of this one kamikaze soldier, but Godzilla is his own creature and agent, and the ambiguity about Godzilla’s moral code, while less well defined than movies like the original film or the Heisei series, is still present for us to speculate on and interpret. According to Yamazaki in interviews and the novelization, Godzilla likely would have survived Shikishima’s guns, but I prefer the ambiguity in this scene, as it exists in the movie.

 

Shikishima awakes, and Tachibana is furious that Shikishima survived because, from Tachibana’s perspective, it was Koichi’s cowardice that killed the men. Once the war ends, Shikishima and Tachibana return home. The facial hair on Shikishima on the boat shows that time has passed (specifically 6 months), and, for whatever reason (maybe it’s the angle), Tachibana has never looked like the same person as he does in the rest of the movie in this scene to me, but the signature limp confirms that it is Tachibana giving a mysterious sleeve of pictures to Shikishima (though it is revealed later, these are the pictures of the fallen Odo Island mechanics and their families that will haunt Koichi in tandem with dreams of Godzilla). I do wonder why Tachibana never gave him these sooner, but it really affects nothing in the larger cause and effect except that the imagery of this discovery on the boat of surviving soldiers is more cinematic. (Also, as I alluded to, the mechanics disobeyed orders from Tachibana, so he was probably using the images to shame himself until his hatred for Shikishima festered into an acceptable target.)

 

Act One

 

 

Upon returning to his hometown, Koichi finds that it is in ruins, his parents are dead, and his neighbor Sumiko has lost her children. The soundtrack for these last two scenes is a vaguely metallic shrieking in the background, which I am only mentioning now because, while of minor importance, the original tracks in this movie, while effective sound effects to supplement the emotion, don’t really sound like songs, and that is one my main criticisms of the movie minor as it is. In any case, Sumiko is shocked to see Koichi alive, and the actress’ acting clearly shows the moment she realizes the shameful act he has done in fleeing service. She ultimately hits him and blames his disgrace for the circumstances around them (though she acknowledges it was more soldiers than just Shikishima that made that choice.) He asks about his parents, and she explains they died in the air raids along with her children. Consider the similarity in Sumiko and Tachibana’s responses to Koichi’s survival, the shame and disgust that he survived while everybody else died and specifically that Shikishima did not do his duty. The fantastical Godzilla episode subtextually matches the mundane stakes of his decision to go to Odo in the first place.

 

Some time later, Shikishima is eating food in a black market when Noriko runs through, chased for being a thief, and she passes off the bundle in her arms to him, incidentally the baby Akiko. After a conversation between them that leads back to what remains of Shikishima’s house, one of Noriko’s first impressions of Koichi is that he is cognizant they are all just trying to survive and that he will not judge her for anything she does to that end. Once Noriko and Akiko settle in and fall asleep, Shikishima is unable to bring himself to remove them. I lump this first 20 minutes together as the character establishing scenes for Shikishima because, even though his unwillingness to die was his first introduction to us, and the Odo Island massacre was the inciting incident, the refusal of Shikishima to leave the baby behind or to leave Noriko unprotected even amidst confusion about why he is helping them, clarifies the stakes and themes of this movie about his found family and rebuilding Japan with people that care. I should mention that Akiko is not Noriko’s biological child, so all three of this new family (four if you include eventual Auntie Sumiko) have lost family in the war from differing perspectives, and each person was vulnerable, so even though the kamikaze appointment means that only Shikishima was “supposed to die,” we root for all of their survival together. 

 

For implementation of this theme, Noriko tells Shikishima that everyone that survived was meant to later in the film (the antitheme being Shikishima thinking the dead soldiers are asking him why he's still alive). Even Sumiko who blames and hates Shikishima for his dishonorable living cannot stop herself from sympathizing with this family to help them survive, and when she later pledges to take a greater role in raising Akiko, she happily reflects on the children that she raised before instead of their deaths. Skipping ahead for one brief moment, that is also why from a storytelling standpoint, Tachibana overcomes his hatred for Shikishima to repair the Shinden’s ejector seat and give him a chance to live. A version of this story where Tachibana did not do that or Shikishima chose not to live would undermine the themes of reconstruction. This movie is brilliant for now not only its strong themes but how those themes build and enhance the characters, stakes and plot, because it all feels natural the way it plays out, but I have the rest of the review to prove that point so let us get back into the plot.

 

Sumiko asks Shikishima about Noriko and Akiko, verbally attacking him but ultimately offering her help anyway once she learns that Noriko is not the biological mother of Akiko and thus cannot breastfeed her. Sumiko gives up her prized rice so that the baby can eat gruel and murmurs about it on the way out of Shikishima’s house. Then, the film jumps to March 1946 in the rain. 

 

 

The house is a little more put together, and Noriko’s clothes are a little less ratty, but the living conditions are still not great with bowls catching rainwater seeping through the ceiling, mismatched wall tiles and broken glass as well as stains and holes in their clothes. They allude to a previous scam job, as Shikishima’s new job offer to improve their living conditions seems too good to be true. This job is ultimately to be on a specially made (crappy wooden) boat the Shinsei Maru as gunner to destroy the remaining naval mines with characters Dr. Kenji Noda, “Captain” Akitsu, and Mizushima, who they call Kid. Shikishima tells Noriko that he is not doing this just to die and that there is hope of survival, unlike the war.

 

Shikishima’s coworkers have a witty rapport, as Akitsu asks practical questions about Shikishima as their sharpshooter, Mizushima is impressed that Shikishima saw action in the war, and Noda exposits that the wooden boat is good for the job because it will not set off the magnetic mines. Akitsu explains their job tasks, and it is not “As You Know” dialogue because the exposition benefits Shikishima as well as us. Shikishima proves very adept at shooting the mines, and Mizushima accidentally offends Shikishima by saying he wished the war would have gone on sooner so he could have joined too. It is worth mentioning that the Shinsei Maru also has a sister ship to help called the Kaishen Maru.

 

 

Next comes Shikishima’s nightmare reliving the Odo Island massacre from a slightly different perspective of a head on shot with Godzilla. Noriko’s dialogue indicates this is not the first time Koichi has had nightmares recently, but he is sufficiently rattled that he confides he cannot tell between reality and dreams, wondering if his life with Noriko is a dying dream or possibly purgatory. He reaches out to feel her just to be able to ground himself, and she pushes him off, jolting him out of it. The imagery here somewhat resembles sexual assault, but the novelization clarifies that Shikishima, when he puts his head near her chest, is trying to feel her heartbeat, and her heartbeat is what helps snap him back to reality. When she pushed him off, all of the pictures of the fallen soldiers fell out, and seeing them makes him start shaking and crying.

 

The film jumps to July of 1946 for the Bikini Atoll Operation Crossroads nuclear test that, for the first time in franchise history, we see mutate Godzilla…very briefly, and then we’re into a montage of Noriko raising Akiko, Shikishima bonding with his coworkers, and their house improving. The montage serves a very mechanical purpose to progress the rebuilding of Japan and age up Akiko before Godzilla attacks, but it also contributes more specific details into the overall setup and payoff of the film than it needed to. This is where Shikishima picks up his motorcycle and leather jacket he will wear throughout the film, Akiko learns to draw (that will be important for the end of the movie), and then it ends on the dinner scene that brings Shikishima’s work and home lives together but also contributes the photo of Noriko that will be so important to the climax. It is not strictly necessary to show us exactly when the picture of Noriko that Shikishima keeps is taken or that Akiko has started drawing because these are assumptions we could make, but the film consistently has this attention to detail that I admire a lot. During the montage, a few simple chords repeat, and it is a more memorable song than most of the original tracks before and after this, but with the first real track that has a melody happening 25 minutes in, I feel like I can still criticize the soundtrack

 

Akitsu politely comments on the improved house, and Noriko serves Noda a drink refill at which point he snaps the aforementioned picture. Akistu and Noda banter about hitting on Noriko, the married woman, and she surprises them by declaring she is not Shikishima’s wife. Koichi explains the family situation but harshly corrects Akiko when she calls him her father. Mizushima tries to lighten the mood, but Shikishima says he does not necessarily want this as his family, that it just happened to him. Something to notice in the background is that Akitsu, evidently playing an Uncle role, has Akiko sitting on his lap.

 

Finally, it is March 1947, and within their improved rebuilt house, Noriko unveils a new suit with her hair tied up nicely, as she has gotten a job in the rebuilt Ginza. She explains that he will never find a wife if she is always around and that this is not sudden for her as it seems for Shikishima. When Shikishima asks who will watch Akiko, Noriko says that Sumiko was quite happy to volunteer, boasting that she has raised three children before. As we know, those children died, and this is growth from Sumiko to move forward as Auntie to this rebuilt found family, which we saw the groundwork for and will also see her in the role of a little later on. And that brings us to the circumstances that lead to the first ocean battle against Godzilla…

 

 

….As this is a long review paced to come out over the course of this week, I will stop here temporarily. Over the coming days, you can watch the review come out on the blog here, and the full video will release this Friday. So, stay tuned for the ocean battle against Godzilla into act 2 of the film in a couple days and a third part finishing the film with some conclusions a couple days after that.

 

Consequently, that makes this week quite kaiju heavy, but we have a vast catalog of other cult materials you can interact with on this blog. If you do like the kaiju stuff but would prefer other subjects than Minus One, these links below may help to tide you over.

 

Blog posts

 

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2023/06/review-godzilla-versus-kong-2021-remake.html

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2024/06/a-nuanced-deconstruction-of-godzilla-x.html

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2024/06/part-two-nuanced-deconstruction-of.html

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2024/07/part-three-nuanced-deconstruction-of.html

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2024/11/godzilla-vs-mechagodzilla-ii-strengths.html

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2024/11/part-two-godzilla-vs-mechagodzilla-ii.html

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2024/11/part-three-godzilla-vs-mechagodzilla-ii.html

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2024/12/how-i-came-to-love-godzilla-vs.html

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2025/03/introduction-to-jun-fukuda-plan9crunch.html

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2025/03/march-godzilla-film-releases-ranked-jun.html

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2014/03/godzilla-is-on-this-authors-mind.html

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2021/12/godzilla-2000-review.html

https://planninecrunch.blogspot.com/2010/02/godzilla-versus-monster-zero.html

 

Kaiju Playlist on Plan9Crunch YouTube link:

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLzpsBkJrfDIEBg2cFH6uobJXIPocsfuWs&si=Kl1yE3m8eRvU_YP5

 

 

Outlaw Motorcycles, 1966, an early genre documentary

Review by Doug Gibson

On this blog, I recently reviewed the semi-obscure "The Last of the American Hoboes," a late '60s feature-length documentary/narrative film history of hoboes. It was directed by Titus Moede (Moody), an iconoclastic actor/director/camerman/screenwriter/photographer who shot his films on a shoestring budget, when he could shoot them.

Moede died in 2001. I've long wanted to see an earlier documentary/narrative he bundled together. It's "Outlaw Motorcycles," 1966, a 35-minute short. Like "... Hoboes," it knocked around the basements of film distribution, with Moede selling many copies of both at a Los Angeles "mondo" film store, and through mail order. Both films entered the century largely ignored; neither was placed on the now-defunct TCM Underground. Both would have been ideal choices. In late 2023, both films were part of the several-films offering "Lost Picture set" Blu-Ray from Vinegar Syndrome. "Outlaw Motorcycles" was an extra for "The Last of the American Hoboes."I've seen both recently because "...Hoboes" is playing on Tubi. "...Motorcycles," for the time being, is on YouTube.

So, what do I think of "Outlaw Motorcycles?" Like "Hoboes," it's not a great film, but it's a fascinating time-capsule effort that merits more attention. This wasn't the first movie to feature motorcyclists, but it was very likely one of a just a few that was open-minded about its subjects. In this film law enforcement, while not overtly villains, are represented as individuals with power who will hassle the motorcycle gangs of that era.

Moede, who has solid history as a working actor, was a bohemian. While some scenes are staged -- as in "Hoboes," -- he walked the talk. The majority of participants belong to the motorcycle gangs that traversed California roads. Much of it was shot outdoors, and you can feel the uneasiness and/or fascinations people of that era felt watching the gangs.

The print I viewed was faded. Much of the dialogue (like "Hoboes") was probably dubbed later or just barely heard due to the low budget. But much of the film delivers authenticity. I particularly enjoyed the scene of a "biker wedding." The groom, after kissing his bride, gives several male biker buddies smooches on the lips. Another strong scene is a biker gang member's funeral.

The film has a scene where members of a biker gang meet and decide to raise money to buy lunches for victims during the Watts riots. The scene is probably staged but I'll accept that it occured. Like "Hoboes," it's strengthened by Moede's contacts and ability to go to locations that other films did not offer. In one scene a motorcycle gang member sports a Nazi swastika. I had though that association was a cliche, but apparently not.

Viewers learn in the film what a motorcycle gang's "mama" is. I'll keep it a secret. It leads to likely the most notorious/popular scene: a visit to a tattoo location where two "mamas" receive tattoos on two personal parts of the body. Gordon Barclay, an actor friend of Moede's who wrote and acted in "Hoboes," is the tattoo artist. I've read this film was banned in some locations. This scene is likely the reason. One shot in the scene, involving one of the "mamas," may be iconic. I know I've seen it before. It has the word "property" in it.

It's very low-budget, the film can plod at times, but it's an important film. Like Andy Milligan's early '60s short "Vapors," (a film about a NYC bathhouse) it provides a non-judgmental look at a culture that contemporary America -- at that time -- almost universally shunned and disliked.

The Legacy of Barugon

By Joe Gibson

Gamera vs Barugon (1966) is the second Gamera film and the odd man out of the Showa series for its dark tone and mature themes. The anniversary of its release (4/17) passed recently, and I was unable to get a review out in time, but that helped me realize that I would rather wait to review it so that I can spend more time interacting with what the film is trying to say. I have an essay in the works trying to break down the themes, imagery and implications of Ultraman Orb: The Origin Saga (don’t worry, I’ll try to make it as approachable and easy to understand as I can), and, ultimately, I plan to do something similar for Gamera vs Barugon. That will take time, and there are other reviews I will get to first, so, in the meantime, I will release this, a short contemplation on the legacy of Gamera vs Barugon and its antagonist monster as a whole.

As I often mention, Gamera vs Barugon is the odd one out of the Showa Gamera series creatively and tonally. However, that does not mean that it is non-canonical or that its creative DNA does not still exist within the franchise to some degree. (I guess if you get really specific into the stock footage backstory segment in Gamera vs Guiron, that film either simply ignores Gamera vs Barugon or implies it did not happen in that timeline, but the stock footage in Gamera vs Jiger shows it again, and the positioning of Barugon as the final foe in Gamera Super Monster re-emphasizes the importance of this monster’s existence to the Showa era.) The original plan was actually to have Gamera face off against Ice Giants, hence why Barugon has ice powers even though the Rainbow Death Ray factors into the stakes more, and one could see Daiei’s Daimaijin character as essentially what they would have looked like, but creating Barugon as a kaiju and not a humanoid kaijin set the precedent for kaiju on kaiju battles in the Gamera series.

Unlike every other Showa Gamera movie, Gamera vs Barugon’s director was not Noriaki Yuasa but Shigeo Tanaka. I could not see any evidence of more kaiju films in his filmography, but the major reason Daiei brought him on was that he was an established director, churning out multiple films a year consistently since 1931. After the original Gamera was a large success, Daiei wanted to treat the sequel as a bigger budget film, filmed in color this time, so it makes sense to bring on a prolific director who had been working for longer than Noriaki Yuasa had been alive. This might be the reason why while there are still growing pains in the monster fights and larger special effects difficulties, this film has far greater tonal unity and cohesion than the previous as well as surprisingly well done human on human fight scenes within the direction and blood effects. (I do not know the ins and outs of the production except that inexperienced Noriaki Yuasa was still special effects director, and I personally believe Yuasa found his footing fairly quickly in this franchise, but it seems fair to attribute the professional streamlined aspects of this film to Tanaka, who I otherwise have nothing to talk about.)

In Gamera vs Barugon, a small group of greedy humans seek a jewel and betray each other. While one man goes on to brood and undertake a redemption arc, the other, through their greed and negligence first cause the jewel to hatch into a kaiju and then interferes with an effort to combat the kaiju Barugon. Greed is the mechanism that drives the human villain Onodera but also to an extent Barugon, as he seeks after a shiny diamond that, once procured, does not stop him as he keeps going (according Shout Factory’s release of the film, Barugon has a diamond digesting sack in his body because he is drawn to shiny objects like food and based on the diagram, seems to be using them as fuel for his Rainbow Death Ray). Because of the causal link to Onodera’s actions, it is crucial that the film shows us the birth of Barugon; it is equally important that the film never address the fact that Barugon is literally a newborn kaiju landlocked (he is deathly allergic to water) in a strange place constantly being shot at by the military. The original Gamera established that he was the friend to a specific child and left that ambiguous while later movies would codify that he is the friend to all children; this movie has no human children, shows Gamera as only marginally the lesser of two evils (though he arguably has less of an excuse than Barugon for their rampages) and shows a type of child Gamera has no issue murdering.

Again, for the intersection of the film’s themes and ideas, Barugon has to be a child, and there is no issue with this film for Barugon to be an unsympathetic child (just more of a weird precedent for this series as it would become to have set). The 1991 short film/pitch Gamera vs Garasharp featured the idea that newborn monsters were innocent and thus protected by Gamera, but that has not been integrated into any of the mainline films or shows. Barugon’s hatching scene with the three shaku puppet and cigarette smoke is iconic, as well as (allegedly) Yuasa's favorite scene in the movie, so it is no surprise that the concept of sinister child kaiju came up again later.

Most notably, the later quadruped Jiger appears somewhat similar to Barugon. While Barugon is a chameleon and Jiger a triceratops, they both have an absurd array of powers while being mundane looking, Earth monsters and quadrupedal, a very unique package of characteristics. Jiger is a dormant adult but impregnates Gamera’s lung, and the technically innocent Baby Jiger immediately attacks the humans it encounters while also leeching Gamera’s life to the point where the characters must perform a shortwave radio abortion. As far as other instances of this oddly specific trope, well, discussion of the legacy of Barugon’s portrayal necessarily weaves in and out of a conversation about Gyaos because, there was reasonably a time where either could have had claim to the archvillain role, and each influenced each other in some key ways.

Gyaos is Gamera’s archenemy due to a few key characteristics: popularity, two Showa era suits (distinct appearances independent of stock footage use), prominence in the marketing and narrative of Gamera Super Monster and finally the villain role in Gamera Guardian of the Universe 1995 and ultimately as the recurring villain of the entire Heisei trilogy. The thing is while the various posters were on the same page that Gyaos was the highest profile villain and the film shows off Gyaos as the first kaiju Gamera fights, it technically makes Barugon even more important to have his fight last in Super Monster, to be the fight that everything was building up to. At the same time, Barugon was also considered to be the villain of Gamera GOTU and perhaps that is part of why at no stage of the Heisei Gyaos’ lifespan can they not be considered evil. However, no matter what, that Heisei backstory for the villain monster role of being created by Atlantis and then destroying Atlantis is quite clearly derived from Space Gyaos (Gyaos’ second Showa appearance) in Gamera vs Guiron, so the legacies of Gyaos and Barugon were always going to be tied together.

Interestingly, the recent show Gamera Rebirth, distributed this backstory of being created by a bygone society to the remainder of Gamera’s Showa era combatants: Viras, Guiron, Zigra and Jiger. While it is unfortunate that the show elected to give Gyaos two episodes instead of letting Barugon back with his Showa era brethren, he technically gets some representation through the portrayal of Jiger. Rebirth Jiger is just not the same beast as Showa Jiger. With none of the same powers and much less of a threat presence, her episode leverages the imagery of her new ratlike physique with the choreography of her feeding in the sewers (if you know about the scrapped Daiei monster Nezura, then that is what is referencing). However, she and Gyaos are the only ones shown as newborns, and all of the Jigers have the same sinister drive to consume and grow larger, imagery that is only compatible with a Gamera series because Gamera vs Barugon exists. (You have to admit that if Gamera vs Garasharp, with its message of child monster innocence, replaced Gamera vs Barugon, this series never would have produced the image of a horde of newborn lizards eating each other until the last one remaining emerges to fight with Gamera and dies from getting its insides torched by his hand.)

That was all functionally a technicality. While it is true that there is substantially less to explicitly point to in terms of legacy for Barugon than Gamera of Gyaos, the legacy of Barugon in this franchise is still quite notable. For the Heisei series, there was a tie-in comic that included Barugon as the main opponent monster (Viras also got one, but the treatment of Viras in Gamera Rebirth also indicates we are meant to see Viras as a significant villain for Gamera too, so…). I discussed Gamera The Brave recently, and its villain monster Zedus is the most blatant legacy of Barugon in that they both have the shooting tongue and Zedus would have been a quadrupedal monster until the team realized he would be too similar to Barugon. And uh also Barugon’s roar is also the roar of Ultra series monsters Gubila and Twin Tail – that’s good enough to end this article on, right? That’s a Rodan level contribution to the genre (Rodan’s roars have been used for an absurd amount of kaiju roars just pitch adjusted or sped up). 

Okay, it is true that not much has come of Barugon objectively speaking. He has seemingly only inspired lesser kaiju such as Wanigon and the Azure Dragon, but, as they say, every dog gets his day, and Barugon will have more opportunities if Gamera Rebirth ever gets a season 2 or if Shusuke Kaneko gets to make his pitch to Kadokawa he approached them with when they busy with Rebirth season 1. I say we remain optimistic and maybe something unprecedented can happen one day, maybe we will even see a derivative of him in a major Hollywood blockbuster release. And actually, we have. Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire featured two main antagonist monsters, one of which, as you likely know, was an ice monster named Shimo, and I will leave you with this piece of trivia. Jared Krichevsky based early concepts of Shimo on Barugon and acknowledged the inspiration publicly. Perhaps the legacy of Barugon is greater than we thought after all.

Becoming Nosferatu anthology offers prose, poetry on German silent horror

 

--

Review by Doug Gibson

It's been almost six months since the 2024 Robert Eggers' film version of "Nosferatu" (reviews here and here) enjoyed strong success at the box office. The film was mostly faithful to F.W. Murnau's interpretation of the vampire, and enhanced the monster's connection to its prey Ellen Hutter.

Academics Matthew Sorrento and Gary D. Rhodes have edited -- and contributed stories to -- a new anthology, "Becoming Nosferatu: Stories Inspired By Silent German Horror," Bearmanor Media, 2025. Mostly stories, along with poetry, the book includes takes on several era icons, including Caligari, Dr. Mabuse, "M," "The Golem," "Vampyr," Metropolis" and "Nosferatu." Some of the tales are set in the past; others in more current times. Some of the tales are serious; some are comedic, others satirical. Some stories find contemporary parallels.

When I review art, I resist the urge to search for passages that support my biases. I'm just looking for a great read. Despite its not-too-subtle political message, I quite enjoyed Robert Guffey's novella "The Land of Thieves and Phantoms." Set in modern times in California's Inland Empire (an area that can be considered remote albeit in California), a charismatic preacher-type pol named Henry Orlok runs for mayor of Lake Wisborg, a small community.

Although not particularly aesthetically attractive, he soon commands widespread support. Two acolytes include a schoolteacher named Ellen and a realtor named Knock. Orlok rallies the town against a longstanding cleric and a peaceful baker whose name and business create unfortunate anagrams. Orlok and supporters eventually force out the town's power structure. 

Guffey effectively weaves a town of individuals manipulated by fear, nativism, prejudice, a longing for security, and a desire to find scapegoats. He provides vampire tendencies from Orlok and convert-like zeal from his conquests. However, more subtle is that dark habits already within his converts are allowed to flourish. A mean-spirited, perverted teacher-turned librarian is given new life to persecute. A conformist businessman easily turns allegiances to Orlok despite the harm to others. Unrepentent, he frankly admits to the persecuted baker that he personally has nothing against him. 

I won't give away the story's finale but it explores the totalitarian tendency to safely rehabilitate -- after their death and/or destruction -- the reputations of those destroyed.

Another story, a witty satirical tale, "Totenkopf," by Rhodes, involves a private detective, Jack Six, from Hollywood but now moving through Europe on assignment searching for the skull of the late director F.W. Murnau. As narrator Six admits, he's a conflicted soul. "... there were two of me, one investigating the Murnau case, the other investigating the me that was investigating the Murnau case." 

Jack Six's well-funded case moves him through conversations with ghosts, including Forry Ackerman, pining for Pola Negi, passages of Louise Brooks, and help from contemporaries, including Bela Lugosi biographer Robert Cremer. He moves through, bars, seances, hotel rooms, Ubers, cemetaries and cities in his quest. It's a fun read for genre fans. It kind of reminded me of Charles Bukowski's final novel "Pulp," where a jaded private eye searches for death.

One more Nosferatu-influenced story I'll mention is Argyle Goolsby's "Serpent on the Lace," a short tale that effective captures the mood and drama of Ellen Hutter's doomed but successful entrapment and destruction of the vampire.

---

"The Good Doctor: An Editorial," by John Talbird, is a brief story that conveys the experience of those unfortunate patients submerged in a Caligari brain fog. 

I enjoyed Charles Rammelkamp's three stories. Two,"Der Golem," and Return of der Golem," provide the point of view of the monster, particularly his unrequited love for Jessica, and later another women.

Sorrento has a story, from the "Metropolis" section, "The Watcher," that traces the evolution and manipulation of an adolescent. Initially fascinated by street games, Julian becomes the protege of a Tall Man who leads him into a world of illegal boxing clubs, and punishment for gamblers. The youngster's name eventually changes.

I enjoyed a story "Yours Alraune," (from the 1928 film "Alraune"), by Martyn Pedler and Alexandra Heller-Nicholas. A beautiful young woman named Alraune exchanges letters with film star Brigitte Helm, now an old woman. The two reveal a contrast of the younger woman, defining Helm by her films, and Helm's responses, which provide clarity and a realism and wisdom the younger woman will presumably attain.

"Mabuse's Last Scheme." by Jeffrey Ford, ("Dr. Mabuse the Gambler," 1922) is a good read with a fantastic ending. 

A poem, "Soul of Frankenstein," by Donald F. Glut, stuck with me. It's an eloquent, beautifully composed summary of the iconic novel.

Sorrento and Rhodes have done a fine job culling and editing stories that underscore the expressionist films this anthology pays homage to. I honestly enjoyed every story and poem. The anthology can be enjoyed by those in the know of the silent horror genre. And the stories can serve as inspiration -- for those unfamiliar with the film genre -- to appreciate the films.

Editor's note: To read an excellent analysis of the 2024 "Nosferatu' from Rhodes, go here.