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 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?