Unseen Terror 2023: No Clever Captions (Days 24-27)

Well, let's get through a few more of these things, shall we? I would say that over these last few days, there has been no particular thing to link this crop of movies together other than......uh, they're movies? Sure, let's go with that. Without spoiling a great deal, I will say that all four films are worth seeking out in some sort of capacity.

My first exposure to 1986's woefully underrated Vamp came from browsing through magazines at the bookstores I frequented as a kid (some of whom I ended up working for down the line). Every time I'd see a shot from the film or shots of Grace Jones, I had no earthly what I was looking at. Perhaps because I wasn't in the mood to be confused at the time (a.k.a. I was in the "bring on the gore" phase of my horror fandom), I kept putting it off. Fast forward twenty-something years later and after finally watching the darn thing, I wish I could go back in time and slap my younger self for taking so long. There are also other things I'd kick my own ass for, but those stories are for another day.

The plot to Vamp revolves around a couple of college kids who desperately wish to get into a fairly famous fraternity, so they coerce a fellow student (Gedde Watanabe of Sixteen Candles fame) to assist them with renting a stripper in an attempt to bribe their way in. Heading to a nearby city, the trio find themselves in a fairly "seedy" strip club, where they run into Grace Jones and a gaggle of strange characters that populate the establishment. Oh, and the whole joint is filled with vampires. The first thing you might be thinking of when you hear Vamp's plot synopsis is "hey, didn't From Dusk Till Dawn" do this already? Indeed, it did, but that particular flick didn't come out until ten years after this one. I know people have often said Quentin Tarantino is not so subtle with his influences sometimes, but knowing what kind of an eccentric person he is, I would absolutely not be surprised to hear that he thinks Vamp is the bee knees. Plus, whereas Dusk is more a welding of action and horror, Vamp primarily focuses on comedy and horror.

Slight similarities aside, does the final product work? Well, I'd say that minus a few things that fall under the "cool for cool's sake" banner, it does. The cast is all pretty darn great, with a few familiar faces like the previously mentioned Watanabe, Sandy Baron (yes, Jack Klompus from Seinfeld), blog favorite Billy Drago, and Deedee Pfeiffer (House III, Big Sky) out and about. The glue that holds this whole thing together though is Grace Jones, and to be perfectly honest with you, I don't think it would warrant too many revisits if she wasn't present. Playing the head vampire and acting almost exclusively mute, she just has this aura that can't really be replicated. Her frequent and very unique wardrobe changes do seem like an excuse to let the costume department play around, but hey, it's a 'B' movie after all.

It's pretty late right now, so I think I'll just finish this by saying Vamp is camp. It's also very fun and has a pretty solid soundtrack for good measure. It's currently streaming on Tubi and the fine folks over at Arrow Video also released a fairly packed Blu-Ray not too long ago.

It didn't occur to me until a few days ago that there wasn't a single kaiju/giant monster movie on this year's list, which is kind of a surprising when you consider that it's become something of an unofficial requirement for my marathon. After I gave up trying to track down the '09 remake of Children of the Corn however, there was an open spot to fill, and one gargantuan, fire-breathing reptile decided to drop in. Somehow, this is the first time that Godzilla's main rival (at least, from a rival Japanese studio) has made an appearance for Unseen Terror, though after sitting through 2006's Gamera the Brave, perhaps I should've chosen to revisit one of his darker forays from the 90s rather than what is essentially an "old school" Gamera movie done in modern day. Not a complaint though!

Gamera the Brave's plot has a lot in common with your basic "boy and his dog" story, or even beloved sci-fi classic E.T the Extra-Terrestrial. Thirty-three years after a battle between Gamera and a flock of enemy monsters nearly destroyed Japan (prevented due to Gamera sacrificing itself to halt the destruction), a young boy named Toru discovers a mysterious egg near the same shore where the battle took place. It hatches a baby turtle. which is nicknamed "Toto" by the kid and kept in secret from his father. Within a very short amount of time however, little Toto starts to grow a little larger...and larger...and larger. When a new monster arrives to wreak havoc across the country however, it's all now in the hands of the smaller Toto to step up and save the world as his predecessor did before him.

If you're thinking that the plot synopsis doesn't sound like anything that could fall under the "horror" category, I would say that you're technically correct (the best kind of correct). However, this could also fall well under another sub-category that I've been trying to cover more of over the years, and that's "family-friendly horror." Nothing in here is TOO frightening to scare younger kids, but it's got just enough menace from the new antagonistic kaiju Zedus (a man-eating sea lizard with neck frills and a piercing tongue) to keep them on the edge of their seats. Plus, the fight sequences are pretty stellar, and they even managed to break the stereotype of the kid friendly Gamera movies by having a child protagonist who isn't a completely unsympathetic, irritating pain in the ass. Big wag of the finger to some of the extended monologue sequences in its third act though, and the fact that we never get to hear the iconic Gamera "roar" is a little puzzling to me.

This is a grand little flick though. Unfortunately, burnout from the Japanese public in regard to kaiju films (at least during the mid 2000s) KILLED Gamera the Brave at the box office, so this never received any proper follow-up. Still, it's kind of a precious little project. If you've got young children of your own, this is a great jumping on point for them when it comes to giant monster movies. Yes, they will have to read subtitles, but I think they'll be so entranced by the sights of little Toto fighting the significantly larger Zedus (or be charmed by his silly, albeit familiar antics when he's still hand-sized) that they won't mind. It's currently streaming on Amazon Prime and Arrow Video's own streaming service (which also houses the entire Gamera franchise, save for this year's Gamera Rebirth on Netflix, but I'll get to that eventually).

And now for a complete tonal shift! It was through the now-defunct Shock Waves podcast that I first learned of 2017's Terrified (no, NOT the one with the psychotic clown) from Argentina, as it made several of the hosts' top 10 flicks of the year. Going into the film, I knew next to nothing, including the plot or even what subgenre this would fall under. While I think you ultimately could classify it as supernatural horror film, there is a lot more to deal with besides the spiritual. Grief and suburban fears play a fairly big part of what makes certain scenes in Terrified so effective.

I don't want to give away too much information in regard to the plot, as I feel going into Terrified as blind as you can is what made it work so well for me. A series of very peculiar and violent events begin occurring around a small neighborhood in Buenos Aries, and a trio of investigators (two paranormal experts, one police commissioner) begin to snoop around in an attempt to discover why things have been going awry so often and so suddenly. Brief as that synopsis may be, I feel like it's just enough to not give away anything, as even the smallest of points in its first twenty minutes play a much larger part in the film's latter half. Ironically enough, that second half also kicks the film into overdrive by dropping some truly horrific imagery into your lap (though there are some spotty CGI effects once in a while), with some of the flick giving off the vibe like it's intentionally trying to hurt you. What's all the more effective is how deadly serious the characters seem to be taking this. There's no Hollywood pizzaz going on; it's ugly, dark, and dreary. 

If you're a fan of modern-day horror flicks such as Insidious or The Conjuring, there's a very good chance that'll you end up really enjoying Terrified. Personally, I think it blows the former out of the water and the latter wishes it had the balls to do to the Warrens what it does to these poor souls. Terrifically creepy and moody, with some of the best scares I've had this month so far. Turn off the lights, settle in, choose your watching area with the best sound output possible, and try to just put yourself into this world. It's currently streaming as a Shudder exclusive, though I hope that somehow it will make its way to a wider audience over time. Coincidentally, director Demian Rugna's next foray into horror (Where Evil Lurks) will be making its streaming debut this weekend on Shudder, and I for one can't wait to see just what the man can bring us in the future.

Aussie horror flick Lake Mungo may fit this yearly marathon better than most films I've previously reviewed, as save for a select few individuals (Jay Bauman from RedLetterMedia was the first one I heard sing its praises), I've heard virtually nobody talk about it. When it IS discussed however, people often swoon over its creepy nature, filming style, and how it's a shame that more people have yet to discover its greatness. Cliched as it may sound, you can add my name to the list, as this was yet another knockout for 2023's iteration of "Unseen Terror." See what happens when you're finally done with He Who Walks Behind the Rows?

I went into Lake Mungo knowing virtually nothing about the picture save for the fact that it was inexplicably released via independent movie production company "After Dark Films." The quality of the flicks distributed by them is debatably more varied than that of similar collections such as the "8 Films to Die For" series, but when they manage to land a hit, it's usually a fairly impressive one (2007's Frontiers from France is also worth seeking out). To my surprise, Lake Mungo is actually filmed as a faux documentary, which covers a family as they attempt to come to terms with the death of their daughter, but supernatural elements start to occur soon afterwards. Nobody is quite sure what happens after you pass away, but what if she didn't?

The movie employs a variety of different techniques to tell a fascinating story that you become so immersed in that you swear could be real. The actors speak about as normal as the people you see in your average documentary, and I'm not sure how much of that was improvisation encouragement given to them by writer/director Joel Anderson or if the script was just written very oddly. Found footage scenes interspliced throughout only add to the tension and make you feel just as uneasy as this grieving family does about the possibility that perhaps there is life beyond death. I would say that if I had one complaint it's that there are a few too many characters to keep track of, but all of them serve the greater picture in some sort of way. Removing even the most minor of figures such as the daughter's friend who has barely a minute or two of screen time lessens the impact of certain reveals.

This is the kind of little gem that I love to see. Lake Mungo is a very slow burn, but worth staying with. It's the project that films like The Fourth Kind or The Devil Inside wishes it could be, and it is further proof that Australia may very well be the most underrated country for delivering creepy films to the masses. It's currently streaming on a variety of services (I watched it on Shudder) and I think it's worth seeking out.

Unseen Terror 2022: Catching the Hell Up

Sometimes I truly despise having to write. Whether that can be attributed to writer's block or lethargy I'm not sure. Still, here I am. Again. Thank you for your patience. Though I have certainly not been behind on the viewing portions of "Unseen Terror," having to log a lengthy review for every entry is sometimes grating considering that I usually come home physically and emotionally drained. Anyway, enough kvetching and moaning. Let's play "catch up," shall we?

DAY 7:

I had honest-to-Lemmy forgotten that there was a documentary out there about the rabid fanaticism for the Evil Dead franchise. Having previously reviewed documentaries about the likes of Pet Sematary and other properties, I had much higher hopes for the aptly titled Hail to the Deadites. Sadly, I really wish I could have liked this more than I did. There is some genuine love and heart to be found throughout its running time, but if you were to show this to a complete stranger (though I'm not sure who you would be able to convince to sit down and watch this without having seen a single frame of an Evil Dead flick), I imagine that their initial response would be something along the lines of "I don't get it." Worse yet is that it's shockingly boring and meandering at times. This wasn't necessarily bad, but it isn't what I would classify as a necessary viewing. Perhaps the most amusing part is how they dedicate an obscenely large amount of time to one quirky couple who met over a shared love for the films, then follow them as they prepare for their upcoming wedding. One year later, they divorced. Perhaps I'm rotten for laughing at that as hard as I did.

DAY 8:

DAY 9:

The yearly Goosebumps viewing commenced, and though I found "Vampire Breath" (pictured above) and "Calling All Creeps" to both be marginally entertaining in different ways (sadly I never read either of the books for these ones), I feel as though I'm picking scraps from the carcass that is this distinctly 90s television series from the frightening land known as Canada. The highlight comes from the former having an ending that is eerily reminiscent of a segment in The Simpsons' "Treehouse of Horror IV" episode. Whether that was intentional or not I haven't the faintest idea, but it made me chuckle, nonetheless.

DAY 10:

.....don't give me that look. I'm allowed to cheat once in a while. And besides, how can one turn down an offer to watch a Godzilla film wherein he fights a behemoth that is born from his initial demise in 1954? And that beast sports an aggregate form that resembles a giant, f'd up hybrid that looks like a gross combination of a Xenomorph (complete with a "mouth within a mouth") and a mutated crustacean? Godzilla vs. Destoroyah, the conclusion the Big G's second "era," is an entry that seems to have one foot in the door of the horror genre, as the plot revolves around a Godzilla that is, in layman's terms, overflowing with radioactivity to the point where he WILL experience a meltdown that can annihilate the entire planet (the tagline for its poster was "GODZILLA DIES" in case you doubted the severity of the situation). Perhaps one day I'll venture worth and do a revisiting of every single entry in this near seventy-year-old franchise. For now, I'll just say that you should sit down and find a way to experience every entry in what is dubbed the "Heisei" era. They all have a connecting story, some truly remarkable monsters, and grandiose scores.

DAY 11:

Y'know, considering all of the times that I've attempted to do something "themed" for the day of my birth (more often than not it's a picture released in 1985), it never dawned on me that the said-to-be underrated Happy Birthday to Me was sitting there right under my nose. Thankfully this bad boy popped up on Tubi (though with an AWFUL alternate cover) and it was about damn time that I viewed this oddity. Happy Birthday to Me, directed by the late J. Lee Thompson (of Cape Fear and Guns of Navarone fame) is more akin to a psychological thriller or "whodunit" mystery than a flat-out slasher picture, and I was pleasantly surprised by this revelation. The plot revolves around a small group of teenagers and their disappearances coinciding around the time of one of their birthdays. The cast of characters are written to be a bit on the snobby side, which does make a lot of sense considering that they all attend a rather prestigious academy, but the highlight and main focus of the picture is Virginia Wainwright (played excellently by Little House on the Prairie's Melissa Sue Anderson), who seems to have gone through some pretty traumatic stuff in her childhood that could lead you to believe that perhaps she is either a cold-blooded killer or a classic "red herring." The plot does become a bit confusing at certain points and I do wish that they had been able to shave off at least ten minutes' worth of running time, but this was such a delight. Check it out.

DAYS 12-13:

Man oh man, I feel like punching myself for having slept on Don Mancini's new Chucky series for USA & SyFy (which is thankfully streaming in its entirety on Peacock). If I haven't stated it before, the Child's Play franchise has grown into perhaps a top 5 favorite for me personally and watching the growth of series mainstay and mastermind Don Mancini (who save for the remake, has had direct involvement in every single installment in some way shape or form) has been quite grand. The show follows teenager Jake Wheeler as he comes into possession of the now infamous "Good Guy" doll, and we slowly watch as not only does Chucky begin to do what he does best, but we witness him attempt to manipulate all of those around him into becoming just as depraved and sick as he is. The cast is all quite excellent and seeing fan favorites like Jennifer Tilly and Fiona Dourif reprise their roles from prior movies is a treat. The kills are also quite grand. The first episode contains a sequence involving Chucky vomiting and causing an electrocution. Once that had finished, I knew I was on board. If you are seeking out something extremely entertaining to watch for the month, I highly recommend it. Now to begin Season 2...

DAY 14:

In all seriousness, I go into further details regarding my thoughts about this supposed "final" entry in the Halloween franchise (or at least, for this new trilogy) on the Jortscenter Podcast Feed. Yes, I am plugging the podcast that I do with my friends. This pile of slop is proving to be very divisive among fans and I can understand arguments on both sides of why they do/do not enjoy it. Without going into too many spoilers, I will say that overall, I was not a fan of what essentially feels like the "Poochie" entry in the Halloween series. It didn't aggravate me the same way that its predecessor Halloween Kills did, but that is very faint praise for what I felt was an extremely frustrating experience.

DAY 15: 

I'm still perplexed as to why this film (which also goes by the much more straightforward title of "Insect") has such a bizarre title. Regardless, it was about damn time I got the chance to log another "natural" horror flick for Unseen Terror. I truly do wish that there were more killer bug movies out there that had some semblance of a budget or care put into the finished product. Blue Monkey (directed by future Goosebumps television series regular William Fruet) is a hoot of a big bug flick that pays an equal amount of homage to Alien as it does your prototypical "outbreak" motion picture. The acting is surprisingly quite serious for such an absurdly, silly film, but that just adds to its charm. Set primarily inside of a hospital, Blue Monkey follows as a small group of doctors struggling to survive the sudden, violent emergence of a rather large insect that seems intent on picking them off (when it isn't focused on somehow being to able to breed through hermaphroditic means). I have to thank the wonderfully talented Dr. Rebekah McKendry for turning me on to this movie's existence a number of years ago via her excellent "All the Colors of the Dark" podcast. While I am unsure as to whether it has seen a proper Blu-Ray release or not, you can currently seek it out on YouTube.

Side note: please do the Jortscenter podcast Bekah. We're uh, cool I swear.

DAY 16:

For the first time in goodness knows how long, I have no earthly idea how to review an entry for "Unseen Terror." You might stare at the poster for Dogface: A Trap House Horror and assume it's likely to be low budget garbage that wishes it were as cool as something like say, Bones or Tales from the Hood. You would be oh, so wrong though. This movie.........is in a league of its own. I can't call this a good film by any stretch of the imagination, but oh boy is it a fascinating experiment in trying to make a flick that thinks it is deep or even coherent. I suppose the best way that I can describe Dogface would be if notorious filmmaker Neil Breen decided to make Jacob's Ladder. Even then, that is nowhere near the right comparison I can make. I truly hope we can discuss this on a future podcast, or that the good folks at Red Letter Media can bring more attention to its sheer and utter weirdness. Recommended only for those who are in the mood for something absolutely batshit crazy and nonsensical.

DAY 17:

Ah yes, here's the (mostly) yearly Stephen King pick. To be brutally honest with you, I had no familiarity with Quicksilver Highway's mere existence until planning this year's list. Once I saw that it adapted one of my favorite King shorts ("Chattery Teeth") and also contained a Clive Barker adaptation for its second story, I was fully on board though. Plus, it has the wonderful Christopher Lloyd (Back to the Future, Who Framed Roger Rabbit) as a central character/narrator and it's directed by the marvelous Mick Garris, who directed Critters 2 and wrote Hocus Pocus. What could go wr----you know where I'm going with this, don't you?

Alas this one was just such a colossal disappointment, and I don't think I can fault the fact that this was originally pitched as a TV pilot. More so, I'd just say that these particular stories don't quite work on the big OR small screen (especially when the severed CGI hands in Barker's story "The Body Politic" look worse than the animation in the "Money for Nothing" music video). The acting is serviceable at best and while each story is certainly memorable, they aren't especially scary or creepy. Unless you're a completist for Barker and King, you can skip right over this one.

DAY 18:

FINALLY, we close out this blog entry with what will undoubtedly go down as a highlight for this year's marathon. I had been meaning to watch Dario Argento's rather infamous Opera for quite a while, and truth be told it was supposed to end up on not only last year's (cancelled) list, but the past two ones before it! Burnout be damned this time around though. Once I saw that this beauty ended up on both Shudder AND Tubi, I felt as there was no excuse to miss it now. Plus, I need a GOOD Italian picture to erase the stench of Zombi 4 and Zombi 5.

The plot for Opera follows a young soprano understudy named Betty who has taken on the role of "Lady Macbeth" in a rather extravagant production of "Verdi's Macbeth." Though she was not the initial choice, her mentor is battling an injury that will keep her on the sidelines. During opening night, a stagehand is mysteriously murdered by an unknown assailant. In no short order, Betty finds herself being stalked by a maniac who seems more content with forcing her to watch those around her who she cares for suffer horrible fates, rather than kill her outright. The primary method in which they enact this sort of torture on poor Betty is what you see on the poster above: they tape needles underneath her eyes, so that she is forced to watch any killing that occurs. It is downright chilling and extremely unnerving in a way that only a maestro like Argento can pull off (as are all of the kills this time around). The score, composed by longtime associate Claudio Simonetti (joined this time by both Brian Eno and Bill Wyman!) also kicks a ton of ass and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to find a copy of it on vinyl ASAP.

There are a few gripes that I had with Opera though. For starters, the plot does feel a bit jumbled in spots. I had legitimately forgotten there was a rather important aspect to Betty's background that they seemed to just kinda forget until the very end. The dubbing is also very questionable, but that's Giallo for ya I suppose. Finally, I do wish that they had shaved off at least a few minutes. Minor complaints though.

Not sure what else I can say here (and that's mostly because I'm very tired). Go watch Opera. It slaps y'all.

Unseen Terror 2022: Day 3

It's no secret that I'm a pretty diehard "kaiju eiga" fanatic, which stems back to when I saw my first Godzilla films around the time that I was entering second grade. In the three decades that have followed, I've been able to witness the genre twist and turn into all sorts of directions while still retaining some of its utter majesty and, well, coolness. As technology advances forward (with the likes of The Big G and King Kong themselves being entirely digitally rendered now), a motion picture like 2019's Howl from Beyond the Fog is a welcome throwback to a time when these features were doing what they could with what they had in terms of financial backing (if any at all). In this case, Howl is a beautifully done low budget short film featuring a cast comprised of nothing but puppets.

No, you certainly didn't read that wrong. Remember what I said yesterday?

The story is set during Japan's Meiji era, which ran for close to sixty years back in the 1860s. A young man named Eiji returns to Kyushu to meet his mother but when he arrives, he is startled to meet a blind woman named Takiri living with her, who instructs him to never speak of their encounter because according to her she's "supposed to be dead." One evening he spots Takiri near a lake. She hums softly and summons a giant creature from the water. Initially frightened, Eiji flees, but soon discovers through Takiri that this monster (named "Nebula") is quite misunderstood. Around this same time, developers are attempting to convince Eiji's mother to sell her land to facilitate the construction of a dam. Without going too much into spoilers, things...don't go well.

What makes Howl feel like a such a special little piece isn't just its aforementioned filmmaking choice, but how much they're able to accomplish by nearly make you forget that you're staring at primarily stone-faced marionettes and dolls. It also has remarkably good atmosphere in utilizing fog and water effects without it looking very jarring or the contrast being too noticeable. The score is also artistically orchestrated but not overpowering. I suppose that if I were to have any complaints (other than wishing this was a full-length feature and not a short film) it would be that the voice acting is a bit on the hit-or-miss side. Eiji and Takiri's performers are very good, but the film's primary antagonists sound very static or unenthusiastic rather than menacing or cruel. Those are very minor complaints though, as the positives far outweigh the negatives here.

I'm likely preaching to the choir here, but Howl from Beyond the Fog is an essential watch for those who are searching for something that is a love letter to the kaiju genre that doesn't seem like pandering. It's a beautiful passion project made by and for fans who yearn for something a little different but not distinctly alien. Currently, it's streaming on both Amazon Prime and Tubi. The actual movie itself runs for about thirty minutes, and the second half of its "runtime" is a behind-the-scenes look at its inception and creation. Pretty sweet.

Oh, I didn't mention that Nebula is cool, did I? Because Nebula totally is.

Tomorrow, we're ditching class and elegance and going back to Italy for some BRAAAAIIIIINNSSS.

Unseen Terror 2020: Day 5

I'll admit that I wasn't planning on knocking out my mandatory "kaiju" flick this early into my yearly marathon, but I figured that a quick break was sorely needed before I dived back into the Texas Chainsaw franchise (specifically the remake and its ilk). There was one major problem however: as widespread and numerous as the "giant monster" genre might be, I was running out of pictures to watch. Hell at this point in 2020, I now own physical copies of nearly every Godzilla or Gamera movie on VHS, DVD, or Blu-Ray (which is something I thought would never happen due to the insanity that is licensing properties with Toho and Kadokawa). Luck would happen to be on my side though via the free streaming service known as Tubi. If you haven't checked them out before, there are some seriously good hidden gems on there from every genre you could think of. In this case, I discovered the 1996 oddity known as Zarkorr! The Invader.

The plot revolves around an average schmo named Tommy, who receives a visit from a pint-sized lady during an average evening of watching cartoons after he has clocked out from his Postal Service job. She warns him of a terrible beast named Zarkorr that has recently been unleashed on Earth, and that Tommy is the one who is destined to stop him. Naturally he has some trouble believing all of this, but all it takes is one glimpse at the news on TV to convince him that he isn't going crazy. With this new task in mind, he joins up with an attractive cryptozoologist and a random policeman in hopes that he can find out exactly HOW he can stop Zarkorr. 

Zarkorr! The Invader comes to us from the oh-so-kinda reliable Full Moon Features, who have blessed the horror community over the decades with stuff like the Puppet Master series and Prehysteria! (a favorite of mine as a kid). This was one of two pictures released under their "Monster Island Entertainment" label, which I'm guessing they thought would be more thriving considering how popular the kaiju genre is. Unfortunately, the giant monster movie genre was in a strange place at the time. Godzilla was dead and Gamera was experiencing a (GREAT) revival overseas that wouldn't hit our shores for a few years. Full Moon themselves had mostly been relegated to the realm of straight-to-video, but that doesn't mean they'd stop trying to make some mindless fun once in a while. In that regard, Zarkorr ALMOST works. The titular monster doesn't get a great deal of time on screen, but he certainly has a nifty look to him (amusingly enough, his roars are that of the Tyrannosaurus from Jurassic Park) and his scenes of rampaging are charming in their nostalgic simplicity. He fares a lot better than the human cast though. Our leads range from irritating to dull, with the only really likeable one of the bunch being Torie Lynch's "Proctor," and even then she disappears from the film after the first ten or so minutes. She plays the aforementioned valley girl-looking tiny advisor who basically explains the entire plot of the flick to Tommy before deciding that she doesn't need to be in the movie anymore.

If you're thinking to yourself "this doesn't sound particularly scary," then you are correct. This was an honest-to-Lemmy mistake on my part, because unlike old school monster pictures such as the original Gojira or Them!, there aren't a great deal of horror elements to be found in Zarkorr! The Invader. It has more in common with weekday afternoon programs like Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers or weekend evening shows on Nickelodeon (I'd say you could show this to your kids but there are some random curse words thrown around and some sexual innuendo). That all being said, it isn't a terribly....uh, terrible movie. It runs for about eighty minutes, has a fun monster, and a fantastically cheesy end credits song. And trust me when I say, it's far less offensive than other Western productions like the American version of Varan or The Giant Claw.

Unlike the latter however, I don't know if our titular monster is "as big as a battleship."

Unseen Terror 2018: Day 3

The Japanese have launched a probe dubbed "Helios 7" into space, in the hopes that it will study the planet Jupiter and return to earth after three and a half years with a collection of data. Unknown to everyone, the device is overtaken by an alien entity, and Helios 7 is later seen careening towards the South Pacific. It crashes into the water, and the "passenger" exits after choosing to inhabit the body of a cuttlefish. In the meantime, photographer Taro Kudo has gathered an entourage to head to the mysterious Selgio Island, which is rumored to contain giant creatures previously unseen by the human eye. While there, they meet some island natives and discover that they worship something referred to as "Gezora," which is revealed to look very similar to a certain type of mollusk found under the sea...



Since its inception in 2011, I've tried to include at least one Kaiju-related project for Unseen Terror. The results have been rather mixed (to say the least), but I've been lucky enough to be exposed to solid flicks like the Japanese cut of Rodan and 2016's stunningly great Shin Godzilla. That doesn't mean that a fanatic such as myself has seen every "guy in a suit" movie released to date though, and given how wide Toho's catalog is, there's bound to be a few flicks that slipped through my hands when given an opportunity to watch them for this marathon. In 2018, one such movie is 1970's Space Amoeba (a.k.a. Yog-Monster From Space), which was the first foray into that decade from noteworthy distributors Toho Co. It's amassed a small following, but is mostly forgotten by casual fans of this genre. After sitting through its running time of eighty-four minutes, perhaps there's a valid reason for that.


One very important thing to remember about Space Amoeba is that it marked the first Toho Kaiju Eiga project without the involvement of Eiji Tsuburaya. For those of you who are not aware of that name, he is most well known as the special effects director for the Godzilla franchise, and even helped co-create the "Big G." He is also the mastermind behind the equally influential Ultraman series, and is viewed as a rather prolific and important person in the realm of Japanese cinema. Due to his sudden death, I'm certain that the crew and figureheads were still reeling from this loss, and his absence can be felt throughout. Nothing feels quite as impactful without his supervision from behind the scenes, and the usual staples found in previous entries of the studio's filmography seem underwhelming this time around. The special effects, though somewhat competent, feel slightly average rather than vibrant. On the flip side, Space Amoeba manages to sport three different monsters that are actually all fairly neat, if not unspectacular in terms of designs. The giant cuttlefish Gezora looks great when he isn't actually attempting to "walk," and his brief appearances underwater aren't too shabby either. The giant matamata turtle Kamoebas is perfectly serviceable too, and kind of cute in an ugly sort of way. Giant crab Ganime is perhaps the biggest disappointment, as its screen time is mostly limited to the final seven minutes or so, and it fails to deal any real damage to our heroes or the island natives. Only two out of these three beasts would see returns to this world over the next several decades, though one is via stock footage and the other as a corpse post-Godzilla attack.


Plot-wise Space Amoeba is a bit jumbled, though certainly unique. There were moments where I had to pause the picture just to try and put all of the pieces together without saying "Why are these people here exactly?" The plain jane characters don't necessarily help to keep your attention either, and the usually great director Ishiro Honda can't get series veterans like Akira Kubo (Destroy All Monsters, Throne of Blood) and Kenji Sahara (Mothra vs. Godzilla, War of the Gargantuas) to turn in performances that even by "giant monster movie" standards are still fairly weak. Worse yet, the score provided by the tremendously talented Akira Ifukube is nothing to write home about compared to what he's capable of turning in (Space Amoeba's most memorable composition is just a reworked piece from King Kong vs. Godzilla). Still, as mixed up as the storyline can be, there are some rather neat aspects in Space Amoeba that you weren't really getting around the time of its release. As what I can assume is a throwback to their earliest efforts, there is no heroic, gargantuan protagonist, nor is there even military that can come for backup. It boils down to the tried and true formula of man vs beast. The concept of an organism that infects a host, causing it to grow thirty stories high, is akin to something seen in television shows like Power Rangers, and the fact that this group of humans are far from stupid is a rarity. Well, minus one specific sequence. Earlier in the picture, someone says "Well, I don't believe monsters exist until I see one." Given the future appearances of the aforementioned creatures in Godzilla sequels, then one must assume that this is all set within the same universe. There are kaiju attacks occurring nearly every year around the world, and especially in Japan. They make the news. Your taxes help pay for it. THEY. ARE. REAL. Therefore,

Space Amoeba isn't the worst Toho-produced kaiju flick that you'll see, but I could only see diehards feeling the need to own this one. Other than sporting some halfway decent designs and humans who aren't complete incompetent cannon fodder, nothing is altogether very memorable, and by the time that things finally start to get fun, most of your interest has already waned. Still, I didn't completely dislike the picture, and it could make for a fun marathon watch with some like-minded friends. This second-to-last flick directed by Ishiro Honda is free to stream for Amazon Prime members, and Tokyo Shock released a DVD quite a few years ago that is close to going out of print. So, if you have a strong desire to watch city folk fight against a giant crab that also briefly fights against a giant long-necked turtle, you might want to make that purchase as soon as you can.



If you can't act in time, then maybe you should just turn on a BBC doc-

….Crap, I already made that joke.




Anyway, come back tomorrow for day 4, where in space, nobody can hear you rip off other franchises...

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 13

When the Japanese coast guard discovers an abandoned boat in Tokyo Bay, their vessel is suddenly attacked by something beneath the waves. Afterwards, the city's most famous aqua-line begins to flood and collapse, causing Japan's government to investigate and ponder as to what could caused such sudden destruction. Cabinet Secretary Rando Yaguchi believes that these incidents were caused by a large, living creature, but his ideas are initially dismissed as nonsense. Later on, the young man's theory is confirmed to be true, as a massive entity makes its way ashore, slithers and crawls across the land, causes massive property damage, and piles up casualties before a proper evacuation can take place. With the Prime Minister reluctant to jump into action, the beast then suddenly stands on its hind legs and returns to the sea. Curious about what to do in the case of a repeat offense, Yaguchi is assigned to a crew that will do extensive research on the unknown monster, who speculate that not only does "Godzilla" as it is dubbed, a product of nuclear fission, but that mutation within its genetics is also a strong possibility. No sooner is this new idea confirmed when Godzilla makes landfall again; only angrier, and much, much larger in size.



Just when I thought that I was out, the powers that be manage to pull me back in.


In the case of the recently-released Shin Gojira/Godzilla (its original distribution title was set to be Godzilla Resurgence, but another feature in the realm of science fiction unfortunately put an end to that), these collective individuals are not just the giants at long-running studio and distributor Toho, but another group of outsiders who have a very respectable reputation of their own. When news first broke of Japan beginning production on the thirty-first entry in the franchise (he has even surpassed James Bond in the numbers department!), excitement was brewing around the world. But who, we were asking, would be helming the project this time around? Before his most recent hiatus had started, the kaiju's last outing in his native country was 2004's rather divisive Godzilla: Final Wars, which despite being led by the very talented Ryuhei Kitamura, is a picture that I personally still go back and forth on. Within a short amount of time, two recognizable names in the realm of niche/geeky culture popped up, and were thusly attached to write and direct: Hideaki Anno and Shinji Higuchi.


For those unfamiliar with the duo, I will give the best summation that someone who is very caffeine-deprived possibly can. During the 1990s, Anno created the immensely popular and influential Japanese animated series titled Neon Genesis Evangelion. The show (and its subsequent reboot films) wore its love for Kaiju Eiga, Tokusatsu, and odd science fiction works on its sleeve, but managed to inject it with a remarkable amount of intensely personal character drama, religious references, existential crises, and philosophical elements that made it stand above the rest of the pack. Yes, it is in essence an anime about giant mechs fighting monsters that have come to destroy our planet and begin the next extinction event, but it really is a fascinating piece of work that was unlike anything else coming out during that time. Higuchi, however, has a bit more of a familiar background in this type of field, having worked on a number of beloved entries in the realm of monster movies such as Shusuke Kaneko's tremendous Gamera trilogy, where he provided direction on their special effects, and sitting in the main man's chair for the live-action adaptations of fan favorite series Attack on Titan. Needless to say, most believed that we were in good hands, and would probably be in for a treat that would most assuredly stand out on its own.


So, there are quite a few questions that come to mind for longtime fans of the Big G in regards to Shin Gojira. The first (and most likely frequently uttered) one is wondering how can you possibly revamp or retool the King of the Monsters to where you don't lose sight of what makes him so spectacular or popular. Well, the very basic way to do that is to once again, make him the symbol of the horrors of war and the nuclear nightmare. For this entry, we are completely back to square one, as Anno & Higuchi's picture is not a sequel of any sort, but a brand new film with absolute no ties to any other flick sporting the name. It is ironic that something which shares a lot in common tonally with the 1954 granddaddy of them all ignores its existence. And yet, it works for the best. Shin Gojira imagines what would occur if a giant, radioactive beast, brought about by our own arrogance and disregard for the planet's safety, appeared above ground for the first time in the new millennium, and how a drastically different political landscape would choose to deal with it. The idea to just immediately rush armed personnel into battle or to drop weapons from the sky onto him sounds fine in theory, but considering how much Japan has gone through over the past several decades (and even dating back to 1945), that is easier said than done. Why risk turning the city into a graveyard again if the potential for a safer, more sensible solution is there? And yet, if we don't take immediate, aggressive action, will the rest of the world view us as weak? These type of questions were also raised in this year's first pick for the marathon, but Anno and his crew explore it MUCH better than even I could describe, with the man even citing 2010's The Social Network as an inspiration for how he wanted his performers to act and speak in regards to body language or speed. This could stand out as perhaps the most talkative, savvy, and (pardon the pun) human version of a Godzilla movie that we have ever seen. Think The West Wing with the main conflict surrounding a fire-breathing creature slowly rampaging across the land.


Of course, the second question is what will Godzilla look like? To say that we have seen some questionable redesigns during his sixty-two years of reigning over earth would be an understatement if there ever was one. Well, once again taking a cue from their previous sources of inspiration, we get the most nightmarish iteration of the colossal behemoth that we have seen in a very, very long time. For the first time in the history of this franchise, we see the gigantic, mutated dinosaur actually......well, mutate. Admittedly, his first form does look a bit goofy (and is a bit heavy on the CGI), sporting some almost comical features in the facial department, but when you come to the realization that this is only its debut "stage" and is a mere infant, the factors of dread and worrying kick in. It is when he makes his return to the land that we see the truly horrific, almost decrepit-looking version that has made numerous appearances on posters and the like. It is yet another throwback to the original 1954 picture, as they are attempting to scare the audience, or at the very least, make them feel a bit uncomfortable. His appearance as decaying, oddly-formed monstrosity could be seen as a metaphor for where society is as a whole in 2016. Godzilla doesn't appear to be dead, but he's just sort of....rotting (can of coke to whoever gets that reference). This version is also portrayed primarily through the means of motion capture, lumbering along like a true force of nature. Of course, he does get a chance to show off his iconic radioactive breath (as well as some other new tricks), and this is where Higuchi's craft shines. While witnessing his absolute demolition of cities and their military forces, it blew my mind that the individual himself has never been asked to head the effects department on any project overseas, as I believe that his work can rival anything that a U.S. film studio can produce. When this reviewer's own dad can muster the phrase "I'll tell you what, those were some incredible special effects," then you know that your grandeur and praise is warranted. Pieces of Akira Ifukube's original scores for Toho also turn up during moments of destruction and preparation (as does a remixed version of Anno favorite "Decisive Battle"), but Shiro Sagisu's (Bleach, Neon Genesis Evangelion) new compositions do the dearly departed composer justice. They feel like a grandiose mixture of intensity and optimism, while sprinkling in this feeling of dread which implies that we could see the end of the world quicker than we expected.


Though it is only playing for a mere week (technically, until October 18th) in theaters, Shin Gojira feels like it should be seen by more than just a small, selective audience. It is not just a unique beast of a motion picture, but is culturally important for Godzilla's country of origin. It is continuously exploring themes and views that could expose some more ignorant moviegoers to just how convoluted and stressful the entire system and government hierarchy can be over there (though it's easy to get lost with just how many human characters pop up; listing subtitles of their position above their heads). When you consider how unpleasant morale and mindsets were in the areas following the 2011 earthquake and tsunami that did innumerable amounts of damage to the  land of the rising sun, the movie's tendency to boost people's emotions again is admirable. Some of the ideas spread throughout do suggest that we ourselves would not hesitate to jump right in and just bomb the ever-loving hell out of whatever problem arises around the world (the U.S. even sends a Japanese-American woman over as a messenger/negotiator for dropping nukes on her grandmother's country, and she comically speaks just as much English as she does her native tongue), but to be fair, they aren't entirely wrong. In fact, it could seriously benefit some politicians who also fancy trips to the multiplex to see Shin Gojira and analyze some of their own beliefs while they are at it. Even though I enjoyed 2014's stateside Godzilla reboot more than most seemed to (please don't come back to me saying that there isn't enough of him in this either, because if you've ever watched ANY of the prior films, you know that his screen time isn't as prevalent as you would think it is), this feels like more a proper return for one of the most memorable, thunderous, cantankerous, and respected fictional characters in the realm of science fiction. Go buy tickets for this as soon as you can, see it in a theater with great sound, and respect the legend Bubba.



Anyway, if you are one of the types who just wishes to skip to the end of my review, or just don't want to read the whole shebang to finally hear my opinion, I'll just quickly summarize it with a nice YouTube song below.

Tomorrow, we take a trip to Italy with a tale of exploding eggs, gore, and a soundtrack led by legendary progressive rock band Goblin!

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 5

Curious about the reports of a flying saucer being spotted near Mars, a group of Japanese and American explorers set out on a journey into the furthest reaches of space. Once they have arrived, an unknown alien barge sprays the ship with something unidentifiable, which tempts the collective to gather some cells to take back to Earth for studying. After some time has passed, one spore from the sample grows into a colossal creature dubbed "Guilala" that promptly sets out to destroy Tokyo. Frightened and amazed, our resident scientists are now left to ponder about how to properly combat this new threat before the planet is left in ruins.



Well, you can't say that this small portion of Unseen Terror is ending on a high note. Luckily, it isn't going out with a whimper either. The fact of the matter is that the oddly-titled The X from Outer Space (released in its native country as Giant Space Monster Guilala), the first venture into Kaiju Eiga from a very respected veteran film studio, is perhaps one of the strangest, most unique, and indescribably wacky entries into this niche subgenre that has lasted now for more than sixty years. It is regarded as a true "love it or hate it" type of flick. Yet, after finishing it for day five of Unseen Terror, I am still not fully convinced that I know where I stand on it.


The longest running distributor and producers of Japanese cinema (their history runs back to the late 1800s), Shochiku decided that it would be better late than never to jump right into the "Giant Monster" field that seemed to be a big hit with audiences spread across the globe. After all, these films didn't cost the most amount of money to get off the ground and complete (save for specific ones like Destroy All Monsters), and the monster didn't need to look revolutionary so long as you just had it wrecking everything in sight. In those aspects, The X from Outer Space simultaneously knocks it out of the park and stumbles immensely. The technical and artistic side of things are certainly not up to the standards set by long gone geniuses such Eiji Tsuburaya, nor is Guilala a revolutionary addition to the Kaiju mythos. For crying out loud, most of his design resembles that of a rejected Super Sentai villain crossed with a rubber chicken (can't argue with The Golden Turkey Awards for pointing out the latter's similarity years ago), and his roars of anger sound akin to an overgrown, wailing baby. Like Godzilla, he's also attracted to nuclear energy, consuming it to help fuel his wrath. And yet, whenever he decides to feast, it honestly appeared as though he may have been taking a dump.


The score that precedes his first appearance and permeates throughout isn't helping matters either. The X from Outer Space boasts one of the most bizarre, ill-fitting soundtracks that I have been a witness to in some time. You can hear faint hints of jazz and lounge music any time that the main characters are flying their ship or traveling from one location to the other, and if you had told me that any particular piece would go on to reappear in some sort of pornographic series based in another country, I would have not been surprised whatsoever. It's a far cry from the bombastic and grandiose songs composed by the (now) legendary Akira Ifukube. Oddly enough, some of the more normal features that stand out come from the cast of humans. Supporting actress Peggy Neal, one of several Americans chosen to be in this production, is the most interesting or developed of the characters. Mind you, she doesn't have anything that puts her in the same league as some of the genre's more memorable leading women (Kumi Mizuno and Yuriko Hoshi), but she at least seems to be fully on board with the project. I can not say the same for her fellow Western costars though, as some of their acting further helps proves my theory that save for people such as Nick Adams (Invasion of Astro Monster) and Don Frye (Godzilla: Final Wars), most Caucasian performers that sign on to star in Japanese movies end up being one of, if not THE very worst parts of them.


Before I summarize my thoughts overall, I feel that I should mention something in regards to yesterday's picture Gappa: it was originally conceptualized as a parody of the entire genre, but was eventually reimagined as a straight-forward movie instead. Fascinatingly enough, this appears to be the opposite case for Guilala's first foray into the field. And no, I did not stutter. Over forty years later, he would actually resurface in the aptly-titled The Monster X Strikes Back/Attack the G8 Summit, which IS apparently treated as a sendup of kaiju and tokusatsu treats alike. The best compliment, and coincidentally the best description that you can give The X from Outer Space is that it is a weird, flawed experiment that stands out in the admittedly overcrowded period of the Kaiju boom that was at its peak in the second half of the 1960s (this predated the release of aforementioned entry Gappa by less than a whole month). It is the definition of a "get a hold of something strong and watch with your friends" kind of film. Any sort of addition, be it related to friends or beverages, may just help you get through some of the slower parts without nearly falling asleep (our antagonist doesn't pop up on screen until the forty-six minute mark). If you are of the variety that needs to see any and every flick that stars grown men in gimmicked rubber suits crushing toys beneath their feet, The X from Outer Space can be viewed for free on YouTube, and is available on DVD via Criterion.



No, you did not read that last sentence incorrectly. In 2007, the revered home video company launched Eclipse, which was conceived to help cover and promote the more obscure and arguably seldom-wanted releases that were desired by perhaps a very niche audience. This version also includes the original Japanese audio and liner notes that presumably just consist of the word "WHY" being used repeatedly for several paragraphs. It's especially amusing that X is packaged in a set dubbed "When Horror Came to Shochiku," as it is the only movie in the collection that appears to be anything but frightening and is more in line with C-level science fiction and fantasy.



Then again, maybe you ARE scared of giant, scaly chicken men and just don't know it yet.




Tomorrow, the monsters are thankfully going back into hibernation for a little while, as we need a break to come back to reality. But with the 1990 entry that is coming up, can we be so sure as to what is real and what is not?

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 4

A small group of scientists are on their way to the mysterious Obelisk Island, which has been eyed as a future tourist resort by one Mr. Funazu, owner of the successful "Playmate Magazine." Upon arrival, the collective is greeted with love and respect by the area's natives, though one of the youngest, a boy named Saki, warns members of the crew to stay away from one forbidden area of the land. After doing some digging around, two men stumble into a cavern and happen upon a rather unusual discovery: a giant egg, which a large unknown animal hatches from shortly afterwards. Though Saki and the islanders beg for the scientists to just leave this discovery alone and let it reside in peace, they still insist on taking it back to Japan for show and for studying. Unsurprisingly, the baby's parents rise from the waters beneath the island's volcano, destroying anything in their path in the pursuit of saving their child from the hands of curious experimenters and power-hungry businessmen.

Story time (yet again): my history with Japan's Gappa: The Triphibian Monster, a one-off picture from a company that had never previously experimented with giant monster movies, comes not from perusing message boards, nor from friends or cohorts who would recommend it to me if I had nothing better to do. No, the first mentioning I had noticed came from Michael Medved's second book in his now-defunct series titled "The Golden Turkey Awards," which highlighted the best of the worst in cinema before websites such as CollegeHumor and YouTube made it easier for you to determine and search out such a thing. They had specific categories set up to single out special absurd moments of particular pictures, such as "Worst Rodent Movie," which would go to Food of the Gods, or "Worst Casting" for John Wayne as Genghis Khan (yikes). They were never necessarily kind to flicks that you categorize as Kaiju Eiga, but it never bothered me as I knew that I enjoyed these pictures, and in the end, that was what truly mattered.

So, the screenshots and brief descriptions of Gappa, which would be released straight to television in the U.S. rather than to theaters (and was renamed in some circles as Monster From a Prehistoric Planet), made it out to look like the bottom of the barrel when it came to this type of stuff. After sitting through the movie, however, I feel as if some of this bashing was slightly unwarranted, though not without some sort of merit or reasoning. Yes, there are some downright cringe-inducing moments to be found throughout, but given that I have sat through a rather large assortment of films in this subgenre (including some with significantly larger budgets), it is far more watchable than it has any right to be.


Right off the bat, the first thing that I noticed about Gappa was its eerie similarities to other creature features released during the same decade. The plot is essentially plagiarized from previous Unseen Terror entry Gorgo. with the concept of an infant monster being stolen by foolish/greedy humans, which in turn leads to the parent(s) coming to annihilate anything in their path so that they may finally get their child back to them safe and sound. The concept of the monsters not being fully evil, as well as the island natives worshipping the behemoth as some sort of deity, is also taken from the original version of Mothra. You can't convince me that all of this was coincidental, as both of those projects were released six years prior during the first half of 1961, and were relatively big hits commercially and critically. Still, in the case of the former, you'll have to trust me when I say that it is so incredibly strange to see any Japanese studio rip off someone else for a change.

That studio in question deserves some mentioning as well. I suppose that the Nikkatsu Corporation was hoping that this would receive the same levels of success and love as Godzilla or Daei's own rival monster Gamera, but seeing as this was their sole entry into the field of "man in a rubber suit runs amok," I would say that in that aspect, they failed. They would sort of rebound by going on to produce, promote, and distribute a large portion of pornographic films, which has a certain demand in their native country given how strict they can be with subjects relating to sex or drugs. Bizarre as it may have been, it did help keep the company afloat until they were forced to declare bankruptcy in 1993 (three years later, some of their shares would be temporarily acquired by Namco). The efforts put forth are commendable though. The monster effects are done and headed by Akira Watanabe, a former employee of Toho, who helps craft some fun fight sequences with the military. None of it is likely to blow you away, but considering that Gappa's budget was most likely very small, they are fairly decent. They are entertaining enough to almost make you forget about the look chosen for the Gappas themselves.


Speaking of that, let's talk about the design for our titular beast(s), and to an extent, their much, much tinier adversaries. Perhaps in concept, they were hoping for something a little similar to Daei Studios' villainous creation Gyaos or to Toho's iconic Rodan, but what they ended up with was a trio of creatures that are akin in look and sound to that of, well, a giant parrot mixed with one of Toho's more mediocre creations called Gabara. Then again, Gappa actually predates All Monsters Attack/Godzilla's Revenge by two years, so maybe who influenced who is actually up for debate. They are quite expressive-looking bird/lizard/whatchamafucks, and the suits' abilities and facial animations get the chance to show off a bit during the final fifteen minutes of the movie. The human protagonists are actually fairly fun, if not a bit clichéd (minus one shipmate, who was voiced to sound like someone in a Three Stooges tribute act). I'm not sure about how much of that influence in the writing came from the states or from Japan, but it's a nice bonus considering how boring or offensive the past few entries' human casts have been.

Absurdity and an unabashed interest in the sillier side of these movies plays a great part in why I enjoyed this far more than I thought I would have (though anything would have been an improvement over yesterday's choice for the blog). I don't fully believe that Gappa is an essential Kaiju flick, but it is nowhere near as terrible as some historians have made it out to be. It makes for a breezy viewing experience, and with the right company or added substances (not that I would ever encourage that. *wink wink nudge nudge*), it can provide you with an adequate amount of entertainment. Hell, I'm amazed that Gappa never made its way into the realm of Mystery Science Theater 3000, as the hilariously bad dubbing alone is just ripe for riffing. Given that the picture is floating around in the public domain, obtaining a copy of this one should not be difficult to do at all. Alpha Video has a DVD release out that can be purchased for pocket change, and Mill Creek Entertainment has distributed it multiple times throughout the years as part of their well-known package deals. To my pleasant surprise, Tokyo Shock also managed to put the film out on DVD several years ago, which included liner notes and the original Japanese language track.



But, if you think that I'm paying a whopping thirty-five dollars for a motion picture that also features a young Japanese boy running around in what could be constituted as blackface, you would be mistaken.



I would only pay thirty-four for that.




Tomorrow, my concern that this Kaiju boom will crash and burn may be fully realized. And for the first/last time, we venture forward into outer space for the final entry in the block. God(zilla) help me...