MAT was always one of those things (like the Ultra Series or various non-Godzilla Toho films) that I read about in the pages of G-Fan as a kid back in the '90s but never actually managed to find. It was always described as if it were "G-Fan, but better!", but as much as I always wanted a subscription I was just a little kid and couldn't convince my parents to buy one. Now that it's back (and, to my shock, is shipping this month), I'm jumping at the chance to FINALLY read this storied 'zine. Of course, I've already preordered the new issue. ^_~
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Monster Attack Team Returns!
MAT was always one of those things (like the Ultra Series or various non-Godzilla Toho films) that I read about in the pages of G-Fan as a kid back in the '90s but never actually managed to find. It was always described as if it were "G-Fan, but better!", but as much as I always wanted a subscription I was just a little kid and couldn't convince my parents to buy one. Now that it's back (and, to my shock, is shipping this month), I'm jumping at the chance to FINALLY read this storied 'zine. Of course, I've already preordered the new issue. ^_~
Friday, May 10, 2013
The Ages of Giant Monster Movies
Giant monster movies have been around long enough now that, like comic books or movies in general, they can be categorized into separate eras of films. While I'm sure that there are other theories and breakdowns out there, here's my own personal interpretation:
Primordial Age of Giant Monster Movies (~1890 - 1952)
The Primordial Age represents the formative years of the giant monster movie as the genre first developed during the Silent and Golden Ages of Cinema. The earliest expressions of the genre are found in early Dinosaur films, the most notable and important being 1925's The Lost World, which introduced many of the elements that would later typify giant monster flicks, and King Kong (1933), which took The Lost World's elements, refined them, and introduced the giant monster as a central figure of the story in the form of Kong himself. The King Kong franchise has remained one of the most important in the genre from the beginning, serving (alongside Godzilla) as one of the main faces representing giant monsters as a whole. It is also the longest running (in terms of years) in the genre, with at least one appearance of Kong in each era.
Golden Age of Giant Monster Movies (1953 - 1968)
The heyday of the giant monster movie, representing the period wherein most of the genre's classics were released, many of the most popular characters introduced, and when most of the major franchises began. The Golden Age can be further broken down into two smaller eras, which together make up the whole Age: the Western Golden Age and the Eastern Golden Age.
Western Golden Age of Giant Monster Movies (1953 - 1960)
The Pure Golden Age is the period when the giant monster movie first emerged as a popular genre in Western cinema and reached the height of its popularity in the West. It begins with The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953), a landmark and influential film that introduced the concept of the radioactive monster and firmly established Will O'Brien's protege, Ray Harryhausen, as the premier stop motion maestro of the era. That film directly inspired the creation of two more, equally important and influential films the following year: Them! and Gojira. Them! was the first "big bug" film, a subgenre of giant monster movie wherein atomic tests cause the creation of giant mutant insect monsters which, of course, run amok. Gojira, meanwhile, introduced the world to my personal favorite monster, Godzilla, and single-handedly created the Japanese special effects genre.
The height of the Pure Golden Age was 1957 and 1958, during which no less than 16 giant monster movies were released over the course of 24 months. This included films as renowned (or infamous) as The Giant Claw, The Deadly Mantis, The Black Scorpion, 20 Million Miles to Earth, The Amazing Colossal Man, Varan the Unbelievable, Attack of the 50 ft. Woman, and The Blob. Many of Pure Golden Age films approached the genre has a fusion of Horror and Science Fiction, giving many a unique (and, at times, rather dark) flavor compared to some of the more light-hearted films that followed.
Unfortunately, many of the films released in the late 1950s were lower budget and lower quality, resulting in a crash and burn of the genre in the West. The transition from the 1950s to the 1960s saw a shift in tone and a shift in filmmakers' approaches toward the genre. It also saw the center of gravity shift away from Hollywood and across the Pacific to Tokyo.
Eastern Golden Age of Giant Monster Movies (1961 - 1968)
While the output of Western giant monster movies dropped going into the 1960s, it simultaneously exploded in the East following the release of the highly popular film Mothra in 1961. Unlike the American films of the 1950s (and the Japanese films that followed in their footsteps), Mothra approached the genre as a fusion of Science Fiction and Fantasy/Adventure - a dramatically different tone than '50s films, and as it turned out clicked immediately with Japanese audiences of the 1960s. Toho Studios, the creators of both Mothra and Godzilla, quickly retooled the Godzilla franchise to match this lighter and more whimsical tone beginning with 1962's King Kong vs. Godzilla, which immediately became the most successful Godzilla film of all time. The success of the Godzilla films and Toho's take on Science Fiction led to imitators, the first and most important being Daiei Studio's Giant Monster Gamera in 1965. Gamera's success, on the coattails of Godzilla, caused what contemporary critics called the "Monster Boom" of mid-1960s Japan, spawning 10 films and at least three TV series between 1967 and 1968, introducing the world to Japan's most popular super hero: Ultraman.
History, however, managed to repeat itself in the East and the flood of giant monster films caused the genre to start burning out in Japan. The popularity of the Gamera and Ultraman franchises, which were aimed more toward a much younger audience than earlier films, by the late 1960s had begun to cause the already light-hearted Japanese films to become even more lighter and more geared toward children. The expense of these films had also taken their toll: Toho Studios decided to end the expensive Godzilla franchise with a finale film, 1968's Destroy All Monsters. The surprise success of the film, however, convinced the studio to continue the series, but with the conscious decision to lower the budget and aim more directly for children.
This shift would completely alter the landscape of the genre, and thus with the end of Japan's "Monster Boom" came the end of the Golden Age.
Dark Age of Giant Monster Movies (1969 - 1983)
The Dark Age was the period during which the genre declined to its lowest point, and for a time seemed to nearly shrivel to nothing.
The early 1970s saw a continuation of trends that had emerged toward the end of the Asian Golden Age: Japanese giant monster films, at this point almost exclusively represented by the Godzilla films, were reinvented as children's films and saw production values, writing, and budgets decline. Stock footage became commonplace (in All Monster's Attack [1969] and Supermonster Gamera [1980]), it represented most of the film) and stories generally became formulaic, generally mimicking Ultraman plots (i.e. Alien Invaders attack Earth with giant monsters, our hero must fight and defeat them). This continued until the general collapse of the Japanese film industry in the mid-1970s, which ended the Showa Godzilla series and temporarily halted the Showa Ultraman franchise in 1975 (with Ultraman only briefly resurrecting with 1980's Ultraman 80). To the detriment of the Eastern form, these films are the most widely known and remembered in the West.
While the Eastern giant monster genre came crashing down, in the West the genre saw a small revival following the successes of 1975's Academy Award-winning Jaws and 1976's Academy Award-winning remake of King Kong. While Jaws was not actually a giant monster movie, it spawned a series of "large Killer Animal" imitators that were popular in the late 1970s and early 1980s, such as The Food of the Gods (1976), The Crater Lake Monster (1977), and Alligator (1980). Kong also spawned several imitators during the same period: A*P*E and Queen Kong in 1976, The Might Peking Man in 1977. Unlike the few American films of the Asian Golden Age or the preceding Japanese films of the early '70s, these films rejected the Fantasy and light-hearted elements, instead opting for darker Horror films.
By the mid-1980s the Japanese film industry had recovered while American interest in Killer Animal films had waned, with the last major American film of the period being 1982's Q - The Winged Serpent.
Silver Age of Giant Monster Movies (1984 - 2004)
The Silver Age began with the reboot of the Godzilla franchise in 1984's The Return of Godzilla, a film that followed the trends of the late Dark Age by returning to the franchise's more Sci-Fi/Horror roots while also upping the production quality to the highest the franchise had ever enjoyed. The international success of the film reestablished Godzilla as the preeminent giant monster franchise, but also became the final Japanese giant monster film to see an American release for 15 years. This split between the East and West caused the giant monster genre to weaken and, for at time, nearly disappear in the West despite a Renaissance occurring in the East.
In the West, the genre saw few entries past 1986's widely panned King Kong Lives, and by the 1980s had largely be relegated to the occasional low budget (often direct-to-video) creature feature: 1988's The Blob, 1990's Tremors (and its sequels), 1995's Mosquito, 1997's Anaconda, 1999's Lake Placid, and 2002's Eight Legged Freaks represent high points in the West during the Silver Age. Jurassic Park (1993) and Anaconda would prove particularly influential, one representing a major shift in special effects techniques (replacing stop motion and puppet effects with much easier and cheaper Computer Generated Images) and the other spurring a revival of the Giant Killer Animal genre, which following 1997 rapidly produced dozens of poorly made low-budget direct-to-video giant monster movies.
In the East, the Godzilla series dominated the genre and represented the majority of films produced. Following the massive success of 1992's Godzilla vs. Mothra, the series was retooled to be more Fantasy-oriented liked the 1960s films. This proved incredibly popular and profitable, despite a drop in production value and quality. In 1995, Toho Studios killed off Godzilla in Godzilla vs. Destroyah and handed the rights to the character to Tristar Pictures, which set to work producing an American remake of Gojira helmed by Dean Devlin and Roland Emmerich. That film, 1998's Godzilla, proved to be a critical bomb and a disaster, hated by fans and audiences, forcing Tristar to cancel a planned sequel and Toho to prematurely revive the franchise in Japan with 1999's Godzilla 2000.
In the meantime, Daiei revived the Gamera franchise with 1995's Gamera: Guardian of the Universe to critical acclaim and popular success. The Heisei Gamera trilogy went on to set the benchmark for Japanese special effects, and quickly became beloved as some of the best films in the genre. Simultaneously, Toho released a trilogy of Mothra solo ventures which harkened back to the child-oriented and low-quality films of the early Dark Age. On TV, Ultraman was revived with 1996's Ultraman Tiga and remains popular through to the present day.
With the exception of 2001's Godzilla, Mothra, and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack, directed by the Heisei Gamera trilogy's director, Shusuke Kaneko, the Godzilla films of the early 2000s were nowhere near as popular nor successful as the 1990s films. The absolute bomb of Godzilla's 50th Anniversary film, Godzilla: Final Wars (2004), ended the revival of Japanese giant monster films and the end of the Silver Age.
Contemporary Age of Giant Monster Movies (2005 - Present)
The post-Godzilla: Final Wars period has seen a relative resurrection of giant monster movies in the West compared to the East. Japan has produced few feature-length giant monster films since 2005, the big exceptions being 2006's Gamera the Brave, a failed reboot of the Gamera franchise that tried to harken back to the franchise's more child-friendly roots, and 2008's Monster X Strikes Back, an unsuccessful comedic sequel to 1967's The X from Outer Space. Instead, the most prominent Eastern entries to the genre during this period have hailed from South Korea: The Host (2006), Dragon Wars (2007) and Chaw (2009). In the West, there have been several successful big budget giant monster movies: 2005's remake of King Kong by Academy Award-winning director Peter Jackson, 2008's 9/11 inspired Cloverfield, and 2011's Super 8. Despite the success and positive reactions to these films, however, the balance of American films still remains firmly in the realm of cheap direct-to-video shlock. The most prominent studio of such films is The Asylum, with films such as King of the Lost World (2005), Monster (2008), Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus (2009), Mega Piranha and Megashark vs. Crocosaurus in 2010, and Mega Python vs. Gatoroid (2011). Also worth noting during this period are the works produced by shlock master Roger Corman: Dinocroc (2004), Sharktopus (2010), and Dinocroc vs. Supergator (2010).
The most notable trend of the contemporary period has been near total rejection of practical effects, either animatronic or suitmation, in favor of all CGI effects work. This trend has been universal from the genre's best entries to its worst, with the only exceptions being the few Japanese films and the Ultraman franchise, which continue to stubbornly press onward with traditional techniques. The genre has, again, shifted back toward a more Horror-inspired tone, although a few few films have emphasized Science Fiction or Fantasy/Adventure instead. Several of the genre's contemporary entries have received critical acclaim, at least in part rehabilitating the genre in the eyes of critics and move perceptions away from associations with shlock American films and early '70s Japanese films.
Looking into the future, the genre has two major shining stars upcoming over the next year: 2013's Pacific Rim, a giant monsters v. giant robots movie helmed by popular director Guillermo del Toro, and 2014's big budget Godzilla from Legendary Pictures and Warner Bros., a second attempt at an American Godzilla film (unrelated to the 1998 film) helmed by indie director Gareth Edwards and starring Aaron Taylor-Johnson (Kick-Ass), Elizabeth Olsen (Martha Marcy May Marlene), Bryan Cranston (Breaking Bad), Academy Award-winner Juliette Binoche (The English Patient), and Academy Award-nominee Ken Watanabe (Inception). The success or failure of these two films will very much shape the future of Giant Monster genre, leaving the future beyond it very much in flux.
Conclusion
So, this is the way I view the history of the genre. Thoughts? Do you think there's a better or more accurate way to describe the genre's history? If so, please share in the comments!
Primordial Age of Giant Monster Movies (~1890 - 1952)
The Primordial Age represents the formative years of the giant monster movie as the genre first developed during the Silent and Golden Ages of Cinema. The earliest expressions of the genre are found in early Dinosaur films, the most notable and important being 1925's The Lost World, which introduced many of the elements that would later typify giant monster flicks, and King Kong (1933), which took The Lost World's elements, refined them, and introduced the giant monster as a central figure of the story in the form of Kong himself. The King Kong franchise has remained one of the most important in the genre from the beginning, serving (alongside Godzilla) as one of the main faces representing giant monsters as a whole. It is also the longest running (in terms of years) in the genre, with at least one appearance of Kong in each era.
Golden Age of Giant Monster Movies (1953 - 1968)
The heyday of the giant monster movie, representing the period wherein most of the genre's classics were released, many of the most popular characters introduced, and when most of the major franchises began. The Golden Age can be further broken down into two smaller eras, which together make up the whole Age: the Western Golden Age and the Eastern Golden Age.
Western Golden Age of Giant Monster Movies (1953 - 1960)
The Pure Golden Age is the period when the giant monster movie first emerged as a popular genre in Western cinema and reached the height of its popularity in the West. It begins with The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953), a landmark and influential film that introduced the concept of the radioactive monster and firmly established Will O'Brien's protege, Ray Harryhausen, as the premier stop motion maestro of the era. That film directly inspired the creation of two more, equally important and influential films the following year: Them! and Gojira. Them! was the first "big bug" film, a subgenre of giant monster movie wherein atomic tests cause the creation of giant mutant insect monsters which, of course, run amok. Gojira, meanwhile, introduced the world to my personal favorite monster, Godzilla, and single-handedly created the Japanese special effects genre.
The height of the Pure Golden Age was 1957 and 1958, during which no less than 16 giant monster movies were released over the course of 24 months. This included films as renowned (or infamous) as The Giant Claw, The Deadly Mantis, The Black Scorpion, 20 Million Miles to Earth, The Amazing Colossal Man, Varan the Unbelievable, Attack of the 50 ft. Woman, and The Blob. Many of Pure Golden Age films approached the genre has a fusion of Horror and Science Fiction, giving many a unique (and, at times, rather dark) flavor compared to some of the more light-hearted films that followed.
Unfortunately, many of the films released in the late 1950s were lower budget and lower quality, resulting in a crash and burn of the genre in the West. The transition from the 1950s to the 1960s saw a shift in tone and a shift in filmmakers' approaches toward the genre. It also saw the center of gravity shift away from Hollywood and across the Pacific to Tokyo.
Eastern Golden Age of Giant Monster Movies (1961 - 1968)
While the output of Western giant monster movies dropped going into the 1960s, it simultaneously exploded in the East following the release of the highly popular film Mothra in 1961. Unlike the American films of the 1950s (and the Japanese films that followed in their footsteps), Mothra approached the genre as a fusion of Science Fiction and Fantasy/Adventure - a dramatically different tone than '50s films, and as it turned out clicked immediately with Japanese audiences of the 1960s. Toho Studios, the creators of both Mothra and Godzilla, quickly retooled the Godzilla franchise to match this lighter and more whimsical tone beginning with 1962's King Kong vs. Godzilla, which immediately became the most successful Godzilla film of all time. The success of the Godzilla films and Toho's take on Science Fiction led to imitators, the first and most important being Daiei Studio's Giant Monster Gamera in 1965. Gamera's success, on the coattails of Godzilla, caused what contemporary critics called the "Monster Boom" of mid-1960s Japan, spawning 10 films and at least three TV series between 1967 and 1968, introducing the world to Japan's most popular super hero: Ultraman.
History, however, managed to repeat itself in the East and the flood of giant monster films caused the genre to start burning out in Japan. The popularity of the Gamera and Ultraman franchises, which were aimed more toward a much younger audience than earlier films, by the late 1960s had begun to cause the already light-hearted Japanese films to become even more lighter and more geared toward children. The expense of these films had also taken their toll: Toho Studios decided to end the expensive Godzilla franchise with a finale film, 1968's Destroy All Monsters. The surprise success of the film, however, convinced the studio to continue the series, but with the conscious decision to lower the budget and aim more directly for children.
This shift would completely alter the landscape of the genre, and thus with the end of Japan's "Monster Boom" came the end of the Golden Age.
Dark Age of Giant Monster Movies (1969 - 1983)
The Dark Age was the period during which the genre declined to its lowest point, and for a time seemed to nearly shrivel to nothing.
The early 1970s saw a continuation of trends that had emerged toward the end of the Asian Golden Age: Japanese giant monster films, at this point almost exclusively represented by the Godzilla films, were reinvented as children's films and saw production values, writing, and budgets decline. Stock footage became commonplace (in All Monster's Attack [1969] and Supermonster Gamera [1980]), it represented most of the film) and stories generally became formulaic, generally mimicking Ultraman plots (i.e. Alien Invaders attack Earth with giant monsters, our hero must fight and defeat them). This continued until the general collapse of the Japanese film industry in the mid-1970s, which ended the Showa Godzilla series and temporarily halted the Showa Ultraman franchise in 1975 (with Ultraman only briefly resurrecting with 1980's Ultraman 80). To the detriment of the Eastern form, these films are the most widely known and remembered in the West.
While the Eastern giant monster genre came crashing down, in the West the genre saw a small revival following the successes of 1975's Academy Award-winning Jaws and 1976's Academy Award-winning remake of King Kong. While Jaws was not actually a giant monster movie, it spawned a series of "large Killer Animal" imitators that were popular in the late 1970s and early 1980s, such as The Food of the Gods (1976), The Crater Lake Monster (1977), and Alligator (1980). Kong also spawned several imitators during the same period: A*P*E and Queen Kong in 1976, The Might Peking Man in 1977. Unlike the few American films of the Asian Golden Age or the preceding Japanese films of the early '70s, these films rejected the Fantasy and light-hearted elements, instead opting for darker Horror films.
By the mid-1980s the Japanese film industry had recovered while American interest in Killer Animal films had waned, with the last major American film of the period being 1982's Q - The Winged Serpent.
Silver Age of Giant Monster Movies (1984 - 2004)
The Silver Age began with the reboot of the Godzilla franchise in 1984's The Return of Godzilla, a film that followed the trends of the late Dark Age by returning to the franchise's more Sci-Fi/Horror roots while also upping the production quality to the highest the franchise had ever enjoyed. The international success of the film reestablished Godzilla as the preeminent giant monster franchise, but also became the final Japanese giant monster film to see an American release for 15 years. This split between the East and West caused the giant monster genre to weaken and, for at time, nearly disappear in the West despite a Renaissance occurring in the East.
In the West, the genre saw few entries past 1986's widely panned King Kong Lives, and by the 1980s had largely be relegated to the occasional low budget (often direct-to-video) creature feature: 1988's The Blob, 1990's Tremors (and its sequels), 1995's Mosquito, 1997's Anaconda, 1999's Lake Placid, and 2002's Eight Legged Freaks represent high points in the West during the Silver Age. Jurassic Park (1993) and Anaconda would prove particularly influential, one representing a major shift in special effects techniques (replacing stop motion and puppet effects with much easier and cheaper Computer Generated Images) and the other spurring a revival of the Giant Killer Animal genre, which following 1997 rapidly produced dozens of poorly made low-budget direct-to-video giant monster movies.
In the East, the Godzilla series dominated the genre and represented the majority of films produced. Following the massive success of 1992's Godzilla vs. Mothra, the series was retooled to be more Fantasy-oriented liked the 1960s films. This proved incredibly popular and profitable, despite a drop in production value and quality. In 1995, Toho Studios killed off Godzilla in Godzilla vs. Destroyah and handed the rights to the character to Tristar Pictures, which set to work producing an American remake of Gojira helmed by Dean Devlin and Roland Emmerich. That film, 1998's Godzilla, proved to be a critical bomb and a disaster, hated by fans and audiences, forcing Tristar to cancel a planned sequel and Toho to prematurely revive the franchise in Japan with 1999's Godzilla 2000.
In the meantime, Daiei revived the Gamera franchise with 1995's Gamera: Guardian of the Universe to critical acclaim and popular success. The Heisei Gamera trilogy went on to set the benchmark for Japanese special effects, and quickly became beloved as some of the best films in the genre. Simultaneously, Toho released a trilogy of Mothra solo ventures which harkened back to the child-oriented and low-quality films of the early Dark Age. On TV, Ultraman was revived with 1996's Ultraman Tiga and remains popular through to the present day.
With the exception of 2001's Godzilla, Mothra, and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack, directed by the Heisei Gamera trilogy's director, Shusuke Kaneko, the Godzilla films of the early 2000s were nowhere near as popular nor successful as the 1990s films. The absolute bomb of Godzilla's 50th Anniversary film, Godzilla: Final Wars (2004), ended the revival of Japanese giant monster films and the end of the Silver Age.
Contemporary Age of Giant Monster Movies (2005 - Present)
The post-Godzilla: Final Wars period has seen a relative resurrection of giant monster movies in the West compared to the East. Japan has produced few feature-length giant monster films since 2005, the big exceptions being 2006's Gamera the Brave, a failed reboot of the Gamera franchise that tried to harken back to the franchise's more child-friendly roots, and 2008's Monster X Strikes Back, an unsuccessful comedic sequel to 1967's The X from Outer Space. Instead, the most prominent Eastern entries to the genre during this period have hailed from South Korea: The Host (2006), Dragon Wars (2007) and Chaw (2009). In the West, there have been several successful big budget giant monster movies: 2005's remake of King Kong by Academy Award-winning director Peter Jackson, 2008's 9/11 inspired Cloverfield, and 2011's Super 8. Despite the success and positive reactions to these films, however, the balance of American films still remains firmly in the realm of cheap direct-to-video shlock. The most prominent studio of such films is The Asylum, with films such as King of the Lost World (2005), Monster (2008), Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus (2009), Mega Piranha and Megashark vs. Crocosaurus in 2010, and Mega Python vs. Gatoroid (2011). Also worth noting during this period are the works produced by shlock master Roger Corman: Dinocroc (2004), Sharktopus (2010), and Dinocroc vs. Supergator (2010).
The most notable trend of the contemporary period has been near total rejection of practical effects, either animatronic or suitmation, in favor of all CGI effects work. This trend has been universal from the genre's best entries to its worst, with the only exceptions being the few Japanese films and the Ultraman franchise, which continue to stubbornly press onward with traditional techniques. The genre has, again, shifted back toward a more Horror-inspired tone, although a few few films have emphasized Science Fiction or Fantasy/Adventure instead. Several of the genre's contemporary entries have received critical acclaim, at least in part rehabilitating the genre in the eyes of critics and move perceptions away from associations with shlock American films and early '70s Japanese films.
Looking into the future, the genre has two major shining stars upcoming over the next year: 2013's Pacific Rim, a giant monsters v. giant robots movie helmed by popular director Guillermo del Toro, and 2014's big budget Godzilla from Legendary Pictures and Warner Bros., a second attempt at an American Godzilla film (unrelated to the 1998 film) helmed by indie director Gareth Edwards and starring Aaron Taylor-Johnson (Kick-Ass), Elizabeth Olsen (Martha Marcy May Marlene), Bryan Cranston (Breaking Bad), Academy Award-winner Juliette Binoche (The English Patient), and Academy Award-nominee Ken Watanabe (Inception). The success or failure of these two films will very much shape the future of Giant Monster genre, leaving the future beyond it very much in flux.
Conclusion
So, this is the way I view the history of the genre. Thoughts? Do you think there's a better or more accurate way to describe the genre's history? If so, please share in the comments!
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Fantastic Dinosaurs of the Movies (1990)
Before I loved giant monster movies, I loved dinosaur movies. It started when I was a little kid enamored with Don Bluth's The Land Before Time, and despite some interruptions (like most kids, I didn't have much of an attention span) I managed to stay fond of dinosaurs right up until the Summer of 1993 when I was treated to seeing Jurassic Park in theaters. That clinched it, and from that point on I was dino-crazy! I had dinosaur toys, dinosaur bedsheets, dinosaur pajamas, dinosaur magazines, books, and, of course, videos.
I discovered Godzilla in early 1994 and that began my life-long fandom of giant monster movies, but my first introduction to the genre beyond the Godzilla series came through a little video my Dad picked up around 1995 titled Fantastic Dinosaurs of the Movies!
The tape was a compilation of old dinosaur and giant monster movie trailers, filled with oodles of awesome stuff and movies I'd never heard of. I loved the tape and watched it over and over religiously, exposing me to a world of rampaging city-smashing beasts that my 9-year old mind had not yet fathomed. Here was where I discovered the work of Willis O'Brien and Ray Harryhausen, caught my first glimpse of Gorgo, and realized there was more fun to be had beyond the seemingly endless adventures of Godzilla and his cohorts. They were all here: The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953), King Kong (1931), Rodan (1956), Gamera the Invincible (1965), and many more! So many fond memories, and so many movies that, even today, I've yet to see.
It was released by GoodTimes Home Video (the same company that released Godzilla vs. Megalon on VHS, amongst others), which unfortunately shut down back in 2005. If you've got kids, though, see if you can track this one down. It kept me hooked for years and helped establish a love for these movies that's lasted almost two decades. I highly recommend! ^_^
I discovered Godzilla in early 1994 and that began my life-long fandom of giant monster movies, but my first introduction to the genre beyond the Godzilla series came through a little video my Dad picked up around 1995 titled Fantastic Dinosaurs of the Movies!
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| With a cover like this, who could say no? |
It was released by GoodTimes Home Video (the same company that released Godzilla vs. Megalon on VHS, amongst others), which unfortunately shut down back in 2005. If you've got kids, though, see if you can track this one down. It kept me hooked for years and helped establish a love for these movies that's lasted almost two decades. I highly recommend! ^_^
Saturday, September 29, 2012
What IS a Giant Monster?
A question I've seen debated again and again is over what, exactly, qualifies as a "giant" monster? Is it only Godzilla-sized monsters? Are Mighty Joe Young or Gwoemul from The Host (2006) too short? Should Japanese Daikaiju be considered separate from Western giant monsters? Where do dinosaurs or fantasy creatures stand?
I figured it was worth laying out my position on this issue.
In my opinion, if its abnormally large - usually, this means bigger than a truck - it's a giant monster. However, that doesn't mean every movie that features a giant monster should be considered or listed as a giant monster movie. Ghostbusters (1984) has the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, but I doubt anyone really considers that a giant monster movie. Similarly, just because there's a large creature (or creatures!) running wild doesn't make it a giant monster movie either - I throw films like Jaws (1977), Jurassic Park (1993), and Primeval (2007) into this category, as they're more accurately classed as Killer Animal or Dinosaur pictures. I still enjoy these movies, though, and a lot of times I'll sort of arbitrarily declare this or that film to be a giant monster movie irregardless of any logic. ^_^()
Dinosaurs present a complicated case, because in my opinion they're sometimes giant monster movies, like The Valley of Gwangi (1968), but then sometimes they're not, like Jurassic Park.
So, if I boiled it down, what makes a giant monster movie a giant monster movie?
The assault on civilization.
One thing most giant monster movies share - from King Kong (1933) to Yonggary (1967) to Super 8 (2011) - is a conflict between the monster and society, often showcased by the monster attacking a city or being attacked by the Army (or both). The thing about regular Monster movies or Dinosaur movies is that, almost always, the monster's target is a person or group of people. In Jaws and The Beast (1996), the monster is more like the serial killer in a Slasher movie: picking people off, one by one, terrorizing a community or small isolated group of people. In Dinosaur movies, there are no targets at all - often, the story is about a group of characters trying to survive in a hostile environment (filled with man-eating beasts). In a Giant Monster movie, however, the monster's target is civilization itself. In Gojira (1954), The Beast from 20.000 Fathoms (1953), and Mothra (1961) the monsters sink ships and attack cities. There's no keeping their existence secret. In fact, there's more than one Giant Monster movie where the climax is the monster's reveal to the general public - most regular Monster movies never have that moment. Instead, the heroes spend the movie trying to convince the authorities that the Monster exists, often without success, and in many films the authorities' role is to show up at the end to claim the bodies. While the success rate of the police and military against giant monsters is, at best, unsatisfactory, they at least show up and get a chance to try.
I don't mean "Oh, a cop takes a shot but it does nothing." I mean, a Giant Monster movie will devote a significant portion of the film - a scene, a sequence - to the authority figures acknowledging the threat, devising a plan, and acting on it in an effort to defeat the monster. Hell, plenty of Giant Monster movies organize their plot around successive plans, each failing until the heroes finally devise one that works - Mothra vs. Godzilla (1964) or Gamera the Invincible (1965) are examples of this. This shifts the conflict of the film from "Hero v. Monster" to "Society v. Monster" - it's no longer about the hero, alone, struggling against the beast, instead it's now the hero and society itself, together, struggling to overcome the antagonist.
As I said, there are exceptions. I consider Anaconda (1997) a Giant Monster movie, even though it fits none of the criteria above. Why?
'Cause I like it, that's why. NYEH! :p
I figured it was worth laying out my position on this issue.
In my opinion, if its abnormally large - usually, this means bigger than a truck - it's a giant monster. However, that doesn't mean every movie that features a giant monster should be considered or listed as a giant monster movie. Ghostbusters (1984) has the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, but I doubt anyone really considers that a giant monster movie. Similarly, just because there's a large creature (or creatures!) running wild doesn't make it a giant monster movie either - I throw films like Jaws (1977), Jurassic Park (1993), and Primeval (2007) into this category, as they're more accurately classed as Killer Animal or Dinosaur pictures. I still enjoy these movies, though, and a lot of times I'll sort of arbitrarily declare this or that film to be a giant monster movie irregardless of any logic. ^_^()
Dinosaurs present a complicated case, because in my opinion they're sometimes giant monster movies, like The Valley of Gwangi (1968), but then sometimes they're not, like Jurassic Park.
So, if I boiled it down, what makes a giant monster movie a giant monster movie?
The assault on civilization.
One thing most giant monster movies share - from King Kong (1933) to Yonggary (1967) to Super 8 (2011) - is a conflict between the monster and society, often showcased by the monster attacking a city or being attacked by the Army (or both). The thing about regular Monster movies or Dinosaur movies is that, almost always, the monster's target is a person or group of people. In Jaws and The Beast (1996), the monster is more like the serial killer in a Slasher movie: picking people off, one by one, terrorizing a community or small isolated group of people. In Dinosaur movies, there are no targets at all - often, the story is about a group of characters trying to survive in a hostile environment (filled with man-eating beasts). In a Giant Monster movie, however, the monster's target is civilization itself. In Gojira (1954), The Beast from 20.000 Fathoms (1953), and Mothra (1961) the monsters sink ships and attack cities. There's no keeping their existence secret. In fact, there's more than one Giant Monster movie where the climax is the monster's reveal to the general public - most regular Monster movies never have that moment. Instead, the heroes spend the movie trying to convince the authorities that the Monster exists, often without success, and in many films the authorities' role is to show up at the end to claim the bodies. While the success rate of the police and military against giant monsters is, at best, unsatisfactory, they at least show up and get a chance to try.
I don't mean "Oh, a cop takes a shot but it does nothing." I mean, a Giant Monster movie will devote a significant portion of the film - a scene, a sequence - to the authority figures acknowledging the threat, devising a plan, and acting on it in an effort to defeat the monster. Hell, plenty of Giant Monster movies organize their plot around successive plans, each failing until the heroes finally devise one that works - Mothra vs. Godzilla (1964) or Gamera the Invincible (1965) are examples of this. This shifts the conflict of the film from "Hero v. Monster" to "Society v. Monster" - it's no longer about the hero, alone, struggling against the beast, instead it's now the hero and society itself, together, struggling to overcome the antagonist.
As I said, there are exceptions. I consider Anaconda (1997) a Giant Monster movie, even though it fits none of the criteria above. Why?
'Cause I like it, that's why. NYEH! :p
Friday, April 20, 2012
My Dwindling Hope for Kingdom of Monsters
You might remember a while back when I posted reviews of the first three issues to the then-new comic book, Godzilla: Kingdom of Monsters, from IDW. Well, it's been a year since that series started and several months since it ended, and...well...
Let's just say, if you were following that series, things did not go anywhere near as well as I'd hoped. Here are my thoughts on issues #4 through #12, which I think nicely documents my sunk feelings for this comic.
Just read KOM #9 and #10, and thanks to Ciramella's writing there has been a noticeable improvement in the last couple issues. He's hampered by the mess the previous writers left him, but he's doing remarkably well considering. Santos, unfortunately, remains disappointing.
Let's just say, if you were following that series, things did not go anywhere near as well as I'd hoped. Here are my thoughts on issues #4 through #12, which I think nicely documents my sunk feelings for this comic.
Godzilla: Kingdom of Monsters #4
I decided to give this a 4 out of 5 (B+).
An improvement over KOM #3, focusing the story on just two plots (Sgt. Woods and Minette/Mallory/Battra), giving us some cool monster action, and providing us with another interesting character in Steven Woods. The first seven pages paint a really interesting picture with this character, who so far seems to be the most level-headed person presented thus far besides Ogden: a no-nonsense, moral, and honorable soldier, a fundamentally good but cynical person with a dark streak. I really like this character and hope he sticks around - if Mechagodzilla is presented like the '93 or Kiryu interpretations, I could easily see Woods be cast as the pilot. The beginning also goes a long way toward explaining why the series has focused so much on the social/political commentary: it seems the writers are establishing that the monsters are besieging a culturally decayed world completely incapable of dealing with this crisis due to its own ineptitude. As such, I suspect a lot of this series will be showing the world's transformation from this vapid and hollow society to a more competent one.
The B story, continuing the Minette/Mallory/Battra storyline from last issue, was also good. After the bizarre and disturbing behavior the characters displayed last issue, it was refreshing to see them actually act like children - it seems they don't fully comprehend what they're doing and are treating it almost like a game, which actually makes their actions even more disturbing.
The one real negative aspect here is that, after all the build-up, the fight between Godzilla and Anguirus was rather...underwhelming. Perhaps its the art style finally getting to me, but the fight was bland...yeah, emphasis was placed a bit more on Steven and what he was doing, but they could've come up with something a bit more exciting. I was also disappointed that Issue #4 didn't pick up from Issue #3's cliffhanger - I wanted to see more of the Shobijin!
Ah well. A strong issue, IMO, and hopefully Issue #5 will give us some better action, as well as continue with Woods, Minette/Mallory, and the Shobijin.
Godzilla: Kingdom of Monsters #5
It was tough to decide this, but I've decided to give this one a 3.5 out of 5 (B). I like the change in art style and the upping the ante on the action (Rodan is so cool, but so underutilized), but this issue has WAY too much going on. There's something like five storylines in this issue (Rodan/UN, Anguirus/the Survivors/the Military, the Family, Minette and Mallory, and Woods) and, as a result, we get little to no emphasis on anybody. Rodan and the attempts to stop him are cool, but what was the point of telling us what happened to Anguirus after the battle or of those two unnamed survivors? Just to give Ogden his cameo and let us know Girly Yaya is dead? I'll have to read KOM #6 first, but I suspect the Minette/Mallory/Battra stuff could've been included either last issue or next issue. Perhaps the one who gets shafted worst is Woods, who just suddenly reappears on the second-to-last page to meet the little girl. Where was he all this time?
Had they focused on Woods, Rodan, and the family from Pasadena, I think I would've given this a 4 out of 5 (B+), but just...no. Too much happening equals a downgrade. And considering how much G&G improved with Issue #2, a B is particularly kind - those less forgiving will probably score this MUCH lower.
Probably the only thing most everyone can agree on is that it's a nice break from routine to step away from the political jokes and the only real commentary is from the older couple toward the end. This issue sets up a Battra Imago v. Rodan fight in Paris for next issue, though, so I'm very much looking forward to that (and, hopefully, the Shobijin will finally reappear and be formally introduced).
Godzilla: Kingdom of Monsters #6
I'm giving this a 1.5 out of 5 (D), but I want it made clear I'm being VERY VERY generous. This was BAD. The worst issue of the series, easily. If it wasn't clear in the rest of the review (or the fact that I waited a month to write this up), I've lost my patience with this series. I really honestly thought they were going somewhere with all of this, as disjointed as it was, but this issue proved me wrong...and that makes me both angry and disappointed. Angry, 'cause I fought so DAMN HARD to defend this thing, and disappointed 'cause where I thought they were going was SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING. UGH!
The artwork wasn't really much off from Santos' previous work, though I didn't like the way Godzilla came out this issue. The plot is was really burns me up, though! Woods and the girl (I apologize, I can't remember her name and can't be bothered to check) have a decent storyline, pretty much what I expected following Issue #5. What pissed me off was the direction they took Ogden's character, throwing him the idiot ball, and how sloppily they introduced Mechagodzilla. It was stupid to an incredible degree. Really, after all that's happened, a GIANT ROBOT is the government's next idea? Ogden has no problem with that, not questioning it? For once, the idiot gallery the series has made the American public into is right, and it's made MORE absurd by the idea it takes only a month to build the damn thing! Don't get me started on Mt. Rushmore or the attack on Atlanta. Just don't.
I'm going to continue to buy the series, at least hoping things pick up after this story arc ends. But, God, was that BAD.
Godzilla: Kingdom of Monsters #7
*SIGH* I'm going with 2 out of 5 (D+). Honestly? I don't know why everyone is calling this an improvement over last issue, it's only marginally better and that's just because it doesn't have anywhere near as stupid a storyline as the Mechagodzilla plot last issue. I just don't care what's going on here anymore. Woods has stopped interesting me by virtue of him doing nothing, they've written out Ogden (Really? They're just going to gloss over the collapse of the US government?), and Minette/Mallory would be interesting if they hadn't been ignored since they arrived in Paris. Whereas last issue was stupid, this issue just feels LAZY as hell. Everything in the last two issues should've happened over the course of two issues each (except for the Minette/Mallory stuff, which should've happened in one issue a LONG time ago).
You already lost my patience, comic, don't test me any further. >=(
Godzilla: Kingdom of Monsters #8
Hm. After thinking about it, I think I'm going to give this a 2.5 out of 5 (C). On a second reading, it is an improvement over the last couple issues, but really not by very much. On the one hand, the comic has become more focused, switching between only Woods/Allie and Godzilla v. Ghidorah. For those who've been craving action, this one certainly delivers. Unfortunately, that's about all it delivers.
Let's start with Woods and Allie: my Lord, they are BORING! It's just the same scene over and OVER again: we start in media res as Woods beats up some attackers, Woods explains to Allie why they attacked, they move along to stay away from monsters. It was kinda interesting in Issue #6 (though it was already continuing the idea from #5), but after three issues in a row with these two doing basically the same thing, I'm sick of it! At least it seems like the writers are too, 'cause they finally stuck Woods in Mechagodzilla (which they should've done sooner, and could've handled MUCH better). But, really, any hope I had for Woods as our hero is more or less gone now. He bores me! At least in Issue #4 he sparked by interest by being somewhat likable yet doing something heinous, now he's just dull.
The other big plotline here was the fight, and boy was it dull too. Considering the fight takes up 10 pages, remarkably little happens in it. Seriously, the play by play is: beam attack, beam attack, tackle, beam attack, grapple, beam attack, nuclear pulse. That's it. This fight would take up, what, a minute or two of screentime in film? Even that long? It's an uninteresting fight, and if this is supposed to be the "finale" of this story arc it's one HELL of a let down. This may be more subjective, but I don't like the way either monster is drawn here either - the style actually reminds me a lot of that little mini-comic that came packed with the Trendmasters toys back in the day. To top it off, where are the backgrounds? It's either a orangey-whispy design (fire-illuminated smoke?) or just solid colors, with the only hint they're supposed to be fighting in a city being some crumbling buildings tossed in the corners in a few panels. How the hell do you set a fight in Washington and not use ANY of the landmarks? That there were TWO 2-page spreads, neither of which were at all necessary, just annoyed me. Those are two pages we could've used to make for a longer and more interesting fight!
I'm going to make an effort to re-read all 8 issues so far and see if maybe this reads better as a single story than as individual issues (I'm kinda doubtful). Hopefully, with the creative team changing for Issue #9, things start to really improve.
Godzilla: Kingdom of Monsters #9 and #10
I'm also somewhat mixed on this series ending in February. On the one hand, it's probably for the best: there's so large a plot snarl I can't think of much else to solve it beyond straight up saying, "Stop. Fast forward 5 years after this all settles," to work it out. At that point, you may as well do what IDW has decided and end the series anyway - whatever comes out of such a change would be effectively a completely different story. I hope that, whatever they come up with to replace KOM, at least retains the Battra twins, who I've always felt make great (if underutilized) villains.
On the other hand, though, I think the comic is on a good path now and is improving. It's kind of a shame that they're pulling the plug. Ah well.
PS: LOVE the Messina cover. ^_^
Godzilla: Kingdom of Monsters #11
Finally picked up KOM #11. I finished it in, I kid you not, roughly 90 seconds. UGH.
I really wanted to like this series, and I gave it PLENTY of chances (and second-chances, and THIRD-chances...), but I lost my patience with this nonsense around 6 months ago now. NOTHING HAPPENED.
FOUR SPLASH PAGES. The only characters to appear at all were Minette and Mallory, and they do essentially nothing (which, if I recall, what little they DID do was just a repeat of last week). This issue did almost nothing to move the plot forward. As much as some people hated the socio-political commentary in the first half of KOM, at least the first half had a PLOT and CHARACTERS - their attempt to create a post-apocalyptic world in the second half has been an abysmal failure.
Here's to hoping the next ongoing will be better.
Godzilla: Kingdom of Monsters #12
That's IT?!!
After all of this nonsense, THAT is how they decide to end this? No resolution, no real finale, just narration and shots of the world ruined?
UGH.
Final Score: 1 out of 5 (D-)
As much as I liked some of the earliest issues, this series spiraled so far down the drain in the end that now I don't think anything could have saved. This was an unmitigated disaster of a comic book, but to IMMENSE shame by how much better Godzilla: Gangsters & Goliaths and Godzilla Legends turned out to be. IDW has proved it can produce better, so the terrible writing of this series is completely unforgivable.
Here's hoping the follow-up series is much more on par with their two mini-series and far superior than their first attempt at a Godzilla ongoing.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Ressurection!
Geez, I never intended to let this blog die so fast! Sorry about that to all two of you who follow me. ^_^()
With Summer rolling around again and Grad school coming to a (nearly) final end, I think it's time I start setting up a more consistent schedule for everything that I do. To that end, you can expect some sort of update on this blog at least once a week, every week, from now on. I've seen plenty of Giant Monster movies in the last few months that I've been dying to talk about, so you can expect a new review some time soon!
Again, sorry about letting this die. Let's try to revive it, shall we? ^_~
With Summer rolling around again and Grad school coming to a (nearly) final end, I think it's time I start setting up a more consistent schedule for everything that I do. To that end, you can expect some sort of update on this blog at least once a week, every week, from now on. I've seen plenty of Giant Monster movies in the last few months that I've been dying to talk about, so you can expect a new review some time soon!
Again, sorry about letting this die. Let's try to revive it, shall we? ^_~
Sunday, August 21, 2011
The Valley of Gwangi (1969)
"Ladies and Gentlemen! What you are about to see, has never been seen before by human eyes! "
Okay, where do I begin with Gwangi?
First, you've got to give this movie credit for trying to do something you almost never see: combine the Western with the dinosaur Creature Feature. The result is definitely fun, so if you haven't had a chance to watch this yet, I highly recommend you go track down the DVD. It's a nice release, though the picture's a bit grainy and its sparse on extras (outside a nice little documentary about the influence of the film and Harryhausen's work on modern visual effects).
The movie has an interesting genesis: it was originally conceived by the legendary Willis O'Brien, the special effects wizard behind the original King Kong, in 1942 as "Gwangi" (although I've read elsewhere it was titled "The Valley of the Mists"). In O'Brien's original story, a Tyrannosaurus Rex would have been discovered in the Grand Canyon, captured, and sold to a rodeo. Inevitably, the creature would escape and go on a rampage, before at last being forced off a cliff by a truck driven by the hero. The script wasn't picked up and eventually forgotten. O'Brien did go on to make a cowboys-and-dinosaurs flick - The Beast of Hollow Mountain - but never saw "Gwangi" become anything more than a pipe dream before he passed away in 1962.
That is, until it was rediscovered over twenty-five years later by O'Brien's protege, the equally legendary Ray Harryhausen. According to Harryhausen, he and Charles Schneer (the producer of many 1950s and '60s sci-fi/fantasy films) had been looking for a new project when he found the script in the back of his garage, of all places. They passed it to screenwriter William Bast, mostly known for writing TV shows like Perry Mason and The Outer Limits, to update the script. The setting was moved back from the 1940s to the turn-of-the-century, and the film retitled "The Valley of Gwangi". Schneer and Harryhausen attached British director Jim O'Connolly (according to IMDB and Wikipedia, he seems to have never direct a Western or Fantasy film before) to direct, and cast James Franciscus (you'll best remember him as the John Brent, the second astronaut in Beneath the Planet of the Apes), Gila Golan (an Israeli fashion model and actress, this would be her last American film) and Richard Carlson (who'd starred in several other monster movies: It Came from Outer Space, The Creature from the Black Lagoon, and The Magnetic Monsters).
First, you've got to give this movie credit for trying to do something you almost never see: combine the Western with the dinosaur Creature Feature. The result is definitely fun, so if you haven't had a chance to watch this yet, I highly recommend you go track down the DVD. It's a nice release, though the picture's a bit grainy and its sparse on extras (outside a nice little documentary about the influence of the film and Harryhausen's work on modern visual effects).
The movie has an interesting genesis: it was originally conceived by the legendary Willis O'Brien, the special effects wizard behind the original King Kong, in 1942 as "Gwangi" (although I've read elsewhere it was titled "The Valley of the Mists"). In O'Brien's original story, a Tyrannosaurus Rex would have been discovered in the Grand Canyon, captured, and sold to a rodeo. Inevitably, the creature would escape and go on a rampage, before at last being forced off a cliff by a truck driven by the hero. The script wasn't picked up and eventually forgotten. O'Brien did go on to make a cowboys-and-dinosaurs flick - The Beast of Hollow Mountain - but never saw "Gwangi" become anything more than a pipe dream before he passed away in 1962.
That is, until it was rediscovered over twenty-five years later by O'Brien's protege, the equally legendary Ray Harryhausen. According to Harryhausen, he and Charles Schneer (the producer of many 1950s and '60s sci-fi/fantasy films) had been looking for a new project when he found the script in the back of his garage, of all places. They passed it to screenwriter William Bast, mostly known for writing TV shows like Perry Mason and The Outer Limits, to update the script. The setting was moved back from the 1940s to the turn-of-the-century, and the film retitled "The Valley of Gwangi". Schneer and Harryhausen attached British director Jim O'Connolly (according to IMDB and Wikipedia, he seems to have never direct a Western or Fantasy film before) to direct, and cast James Franciscus (you'll best remember him as the John Brent, the second astronaut in Beneath the Planet of the Apes), Gila Golan (an Israeli fashion model and actress, this would be her last American film) and Richard Carlson (who'd starred in several other monster movies: It Came from Outer Space, The Creature from the Black Lagoon, and The Magnetic Monsters).
But, what about the movie itself?
The Valley of Gwangi opens in a desolate desert canyon as a troupe of Mexican Gypsies (what the hell?) are searching for a missing man, Miguel.
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| I think we're lost. |
They find Miguel, but just a bit too late: he drops dead after whispering one mysterious word: "Gwangi...!" His brother, Carlos (Gustavo Rojo), takes the sack he died to protect, but is warned by an old blind woman to leave it or be cursed by "Gwangi, the Evil One". Naturally, Carlos ignores the warning and leaves as the open credits roll.
When the movie resumes, we're told we're "Somewhere South of the Rio Grande .......At the turn of the Century". .......What's with all the ellipses? O_o()
Anyways, the circus is in town! Specifically, the Breckenridge Wild West Show, a "Cowboy and Indian War Rodeo". Amongst the spectators at the parade is Tuck Kirby (James Franciscus), an American in town for business. Tuck immediately meets...oh god...
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| Did you think you could escape me, Señor? |
...It's Kenny.
If you know anything about Giant Monster movies, you know this kid. He comes in all shapes and sizes, but he's best known as "Kenny", after the character from Gamera the Invincible. He is annoying. He's useless. And, perhaps worst of all, a complete idiot. I think he's meant to be the comic relief, but in the end just irritates the crap out of the viewer. ARGH!
This incarnation is an orphan named Lope (Curtis Arden), and he hussles Tuck into hiring him as a guide to the arena where the Breckenridge circus is performing, two miles out of town. Wait, if he wanted to know where the arena was, why didn't he just follow the parade? o_O Anyway, by the time they get there the show is already underway and Tuck runs into Champ (Richard Carlson), the show's ringmaster. Turns out Tuck used to be in the show and in a relationship with the show's star and owner, T. J. Breckenridge (Gila Golan), but skipped out on everyone for his own greedy purposes.
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| I'm one smug prick, aren't I? |
Tuck isn't here for any sort of reconciliation, either: he's come on behalf of Buffalo Bill to buy Omar the Wonder Horse, the centerpiece of the circus' grand finale, off T. J. Furious at the obvious attempt to con the circus when it's already doing poorly (and still bitter after he left her), T. J. kicks him out.
As Tuck and Lope make their way back to town, they run into another of Lope's clients: Professor Bromley (Laurence Naismith), a British Paleontologist who's come to the Mexican desert in search of fossils proving his "Theory of the Humanoid" - a crazy idea that Humans evolved 50 million years ago rather than only 1 million (which is bunk, considering Wikipedia says modern Humans emerged only 200,000 years ago). As evidence, he unveils a fossil he discovered: a thigh bone alongside the fossilized footprints of an Eohippus, a tiny prehistoric three-toed ancestor of modern horses, which he claims is "over 50 million years old!" (Which, surprisingly, is about right. I guess Bast only bothered to look up one date?)
The next day, Tuck and Lope head back to the arena. It turns out Carlos now works for T. J.'s circus, and not only that it seems he wants T. J. to be his girl! (She doesn't seem interested.) Tuck, not one to take "no" for an answer, tries to talk T. J. into selling Omar again. He doesn't seem to have much luck, but with somebody as smooth talking as Tuck you never...
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| IDIOT. |
Wow. Just wow. That's one of the dumber things I've seen a Kenny do. And this was completely without provocation! O_o
Of course, Tuck has to jump into the arena to save Lope, getting himself nearly killed by the bull in the process. Carlos jumps in too and wrestles with the bull until some other cowboys can distract it, saving Tuck's life. Seeing her former lover in such peril suddenly breaks T. J.'s frigid facade: she not only suddenly proclaims her love, the two have a full reconciliation and are practically together again.
That was...um...fast.
Pressing his luck, Tuck brings up Omar again...and now T. J. is suddenly willing to sell. Huh? Tuck is just as confused by the sudden change in heart, but it turns out T. J. doesn't really need Omar anymore - she has a new act. One rather suggestive cross dissolve later, and T. J. reveals this secret new act: a tiny horse named El Diablo!
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| KAWAII!! ♥ |
Turns out this little critter is what was kicking and screaming in the sack Carlos had taken from Miguel's corpse in the opening scene. Tuck is impressed, but notices the three toes on the little horse's feet and fetches Professor Bromley, who declares that it's a surviving Eohippus! That news puts dollar signs in Tuck's eyes, and dreams of knighthood in Bromley's head. They question Carlos where he found El Diablo, but in trying not to tell them anything gives away that it came from "Forbidden Valley" and that Tia Zorina, the old woman from the beginning of the movie, knows where it is. Tuck, Bromley, and Lope track down the gypsies and ask Tia Zorina for help, but she refuses to tell them where the valley is. While Tuck accepts this as a dead end, Bromley hatches a scheme: he tells Tia Zorina where T. J. and Carlos are hiding El Diablo, knowing she'd send people to steal him and take him back to the valley...while he secretly follows!
The next day, Tuck is having a crisis of conscience over whether or not to tell T. J. about how valuable El Diablo really is when Lope lets slip that he's meeting the Professor with a mule packed for an expedition outside the arena after dark.
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| There's nothing suspicious about that at all, Señor. |
Figuring it was time to start playing the Hero, Tuck rushes off to the arena but is too late: the gypsies (led by Tia Zorina's vertically challenged friend) have already conked Carlos over the head and run off with El Diablo. Tuck chases after them, but not before being spotted by Carlos, Champ, and T. J., who all assume he was in cahoots with Carlos' people and chase after him as well, not far behind Bromley and Lope, who round out this merry little conga line.
Eventually, Tuck stops to take a break, long enough for Bromley and Lope to catch up and take a break on the other side of the same rock. Tuck jumps the Professor, but the Limey talks his way out of an old-fashioned Western pummeling by pointing out that, where there's one Eohippus, there's liable to be more.
Tuck agrees to ride with Bromley and Lope the rest of the way to Forbidden Valley, but stops short of shaking hands on any official partnership. It's not long before they come across an immense ring of mountains: clearly, they've arrived. If there was any doubt, their landscape ogling is interrupted by a monstrous screech and a quick shot of a Pterodactyl carrying away one of the mules! Next morning, our trio stumbles across T. J. & Co.'s camp (Carlos showed them a short cut to the valley) and Tuck gets roped up by his furious girlfriend. Before they can clear up the misunderstanding, El Diablo happens to wander into their camp and distracts everyone.
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| SUPA KAWAII!! ♥ |
The cowboys drop everything and try to catch the little horse, but fail and he escapes through a crevice in the rock wall. Champ realizes the hole opens up on the other side, so they smash open an entrance and ride on through into Forbidden Valley. Things turn south pretty quick: the Pterodactyl comes back and attacks, plucking Lope from his horse and flying off with him.
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| WHEEE!! |
Our heroes ride to the rescue! T. J. pulls Lope to safety, while Carlos decides that Pterodactyls aren't any scarier than stampeding bulls and leaps into a wrestling match with it, ultimately snapping its neck.
Carlos is officially badass!
Meanwhile, Tuck, Champ, and a couple guys from the circus stumble across an Orithomimus, a pink horse-sized dinosaur and relative of the somewhat more famous Gallimimus featured in Jurassic Park. They've got no clue what it is, but decide to catch it for the circus. That attempt ends, quick, when - in a scene that clearly inspired the T-Rex/Gallimimus scene in Jurassic Park - Gwangi, at last, emerges and snatches up the poor little guy.
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| It only took me 50 minutes to appear in my own movie! |
They do what any man would do in that situation: turn tail and run! Things might've ended right there had one numbskull not decided to take a pot shot at Gwangi with his rifle - as expected, it does nothing besides get the giant lizard's attention. Tuck & co. rejoin the others and everyone decided to high-tail it out of the valley except for the Professor, who outright refuses to leave. Only moments after leaving him behind does Gwangi come around the bend and Bromley realize his mistake.
That night Tuck and the others build a trap, a hole in the ground hidden by broken branches, hoping to catch another Orithomimus or Eohippus if they wander by. T. J. confides in Tuck that she wants to sell the show so the two can be together. Tuck isn't so sure he's read for another relationship, but T. J.'s adamancy convinces him. The two decide to settle down together, buy a ranch in Wyoming, and start a family. This nice quiet moment is interrupted by a crash as something gets caught in the trap, a bit of tension quickly dispersed when everyone realizes the Professor has absent-mindedly stumbled into their hole.
Next morning, Tuck decides to refill his canteen at a nearby stream before they make a second attempt to escape. Unfortunately, Gwangi spots him and gives chase back to the cave, where Tuck falls off his horse. As everyone else tries to fight Gwangi off with spears (and a blanket? O_o), Tuck hides in the nearby rocks. When Carlos falls out of the cave, Tuck grabs a torch and distracts Gwangi long enough for Carlos to escape, then makes another run for it. Just as Tuck seems cornered, the rest of our heroes arrive on horseback and start a rather ballsy attempt to lasso the Allosaurus.
There's really no way to express how cool an idea this is, nor how impressive the sequence is.
Just as it seems the cowboys have turned the tables on Gwangi, the big beast's rival, the Styracosaurus, arrives! Gwangi breaks free of the ropes and the dinosaurs do battle, trapping the cowboys between a giant fire (started by an errant torch earlier) and the fighting dinos.
Though it seems the Styracosaurus might me able to beat Gwangi, Carlos decides to intervene and stab the creature with one of the spears, which gives Gwangi the edge he needed to win. Our heroes decide to make a break for it, but Gwangi decides to abandon the all-but-dead Styracosaurus and gives chase, ultimately catching (and presumably eating) Carlos.
Everyone else makes it out and Gwangi, determined to catch them, tries to squeeze his way through the valley's entrance, causing a rockslide that knocks him out cold. Tuck takes the initiative and ties Gwangi's jaws shut, while Champ declares that they're going to lug him back to the circus alive. They build a massive cage on wheels to cart Gwangi back to the circus, but on the road run into Tia Zorina who warns them to return Gwangi to Forbidden Valley or be doomed. Bromley completely dismisses her warning as idle superstitious nonsense and the group carries on.
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| "A giant man-eating pox upon your house!" |
Some time passes and the circus is now in another, much larger, town (presumably the previously mentioned city of Villarosa) where the circus is showcasing Gwangi for the first time to a sold out arena. Bromley, however, is furious that Gwangi is being displayed at the circus rather than be turned over for scientific research. T. J. dismisses his fury, asserting that Gwangi is her property and that he can conduct his research in the time she allots as the circus goes on their "World Tour" - a comment that piques Tuck's interest. As Bromley storms out, threatening to report them to the Royal Society, Tuck asks where all this "World Tour" talk is coming from - he thought this would be the last show, that she'd sell out and they'd settle down in Wyoming like they talked about. She suggests they settle down after the world tour, but realizing that T. J.'s going down the same greedy path he'd traveled, decides that's not good enough and walks out. Lope warns T. J. that thanks to his pride, if she lets him go Tuck will never come back and urges her to go after him. She does so, and although we never hear what she tells him it's clear they reconcile again.
Meanwhile, Tia Zorina and her short friend arrive at the arena amidst the crowds of spectators. Zorina's sidekick sneaks into Gwangi's cage and loosens the bolts, but gets himself eaten just as the curtains are raised.
Gwangi breaks free (squashing the Professor in the process) and fights the circus' elephant as the spectators stampede from the arena. Tuck and others grab guns and go after Gwangi as he rampages through Villarosa, everyone eventually making their way to the cathedral in the center of town.
They try to bar the doors shut, but Gwangi forces his way inside (luckily most everyone else had already ran out the back door) so Tuck decides to lock himself inside with the beast. T. J. and Lope are also trapped inside, but Tuck manages to save them and start a fire, which engulfs the entire cathedral - and Gwangi along with it.
The film ends as everyone watches the cathedral burn to the ground.
So, what did you think of it?
I liked it!
I love the idea of cowboys-and-dinosaurs, and Gwangi is probably the best ever attempt at it. The story is more or less a remake of King Kong reset to the Wild West, but it's a good retelling with likeable characters, nice visual effects, and a few unique twists on the whole idea. The soundtrack was good, although not particularly memorable, and although I like the Old West setting the desert panoramas kinda get a little boring after a while.
Perhaps my biggest gripe with the movie is how long it takes before we actually see any dinosaurs! Except for El Diablo the Eohippus, we don't get to see any prehistoric monsters until about 40 minutes in, and we don't meet our title character until a full 50 minutes into the film! Granted, King Kong took about as long in 1933 (Kong himself doesn't appear until 45 minutes in), but I guess it just hurts a bit more here since Gwangi isn't as commanding onscreen as Kong. Gwangi doesn't take over the movie the way Kong does, and as much as I like him I really wish I could've seen him a bit more.
Luckily, the main plot for the first half of the film with the machinations of Tuck, Bromley, the Circus, and the Gypsies over the little horse made for a pretty entertaining film in and of itself, so I don't have much to complain about. I can imagine the appearance of the dinosaurs being a much bigger surprise in 1969 had I not heard of the movie before and went into it blind - there's really no hint that this will turn into a dinosaur flick before they reach Forbidden Valley halfway through the movie.
Next time, we'll take a look at some of the monsters stars of this flick! Until then, I hope this makes a good apology for taking so SO long to update. ^_^()
Next time, we'll take a look at some of the monsters stars of this flick! Until then, I hope this makes a good apology for taking so SO long to update. ^_^()
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