Godzilla Week: Godzilla vs. The Thing (1964)

Godzilla movies can often be quite blunt in presentation, so -- in honor of that trait -- allow me to be blunt about Godzilla vs. The Thing (1964).

It is, basically, a superior, artistically-coherent version of King Kong vs. Godzilla (1962). 

This movie dramatizes a very similar tale, but Godzilla vs. The Thing ties all the familiar elements together into a caustic and effective critique of Big Business.

Accordingly, this film feels far more direct and meaningful than its predecessor did.  In fact, I would agree with critics who state Godzilla vs. The Thing is one of the all-time best Showa Godzilla films.  

In particular, it is noteworthy how Godzilla vs. The Thing forges a link between irresponsible Big Business and environmental and manmade catastrophes. Even Godzilla himself is contextualized in light of this nexus.

In man’s blazing desire to profit from things that aren’t his to profit from, says the film, he risks total apocalypse, even if that apocalypse is unintentional.

But Godzilla vs. The Thing doesn’t desire to be a polemic, either, and also comments meaningfully on man’s connection not just with nature, but with his fellow man.

The great Mothra -- who has seen her island devastated by atom bombs -- could refuse to help civilized Japan in its hour of desperate need.  But, as the film states, “we must learn to help one another,” or we’ll all go down, if not to rampaging Kaiju then to some other dire threat.

Agree or disagree with its premise about reckless capitalism, Godzilla vs. The Thing really works splendidly, and the battle scenes are fantastic too, featuring more cut-ins and extreme close-shots so the fighting monsters seem even more vicious than before.

“Money, that’s all they’re interested in….”

Following a dangerous typhoon, a reporter, Ichiro (Akira Takarada), and his new photographer, Junko (Yuriko Hoshi) survey the damage to the shore-line. They uncover a giant reptile scale, but that discovery pales in comparison to another.

A giant, colorful egg has been seen in the shallow waters of the coast.

This colossal egg is brought ashore by the poor locals, and studied by scientists, including Professor Miura (Hiroshi Koizumi) until a businessman named Mr. Kumayama (Yoshifumi Tojima) brazenly explains that the egg is his property. He has just purchased it from the desperate locals, who have endured the typhoon damage. He plans to sell it to the head of Happy Enterprises, with the express purpose of creating an amusement park attraction based on it. 

Soon work is under-way to incubate the egg in a large structure…

Before long, the Shobijin -- two tiny fairy women -- appear in Japan, and ask the businessmen for the return of the egg to its home on Infant Island.,The egg belongs to their deity, a giant old creature called Mothra. Their pleas are ridiculed and ignored, however and the small women face capture themselves.  They escape from custody and return to Infant Island.

Meaenwhile, Godzilla rears his head in Japan again, this time near the beach where he washed ashore (and lost his scale…) in the hurricane.  Godzilla promptly begins to cause great damage to Japanese industry and property, prompting Ichiro and Junko to visit Infant Island and beg Mothra’s help to defeat him.

On the island, Mothra’s help is solicited, even though the island has been ravaged by atomic testing, and civilized man refused to return the giant monster’s egg. Still, Mothra agrees to help…but the monster is aged, and may not be able to defeat Godzilla.

When Mothra dies in a fierce battle with the giant radioactive lizard, her egg finally hatches, and two Mothra grubs continue the fight, for all mankind.

“I’m sure they hate us for what happened here.”                                     

If the angle about a pharmaceutical company and its CEO was played largely for laughs in King Kong vs. Godzilla, a similar plot-line gets more serious treatment in Godzilla vs. The Thing. Here, a company takes possession of an egg it clearly didn’t hatch, and offers to let scientists study it…for a price.

The “entrepreneurs” that turn this egg into a commodity hope to mint a fortune by making it the center of a tourist attraction. In short, they seek to exploit that which is not theirs. An egg is a symbol for nature, and for life, but these men see it as a golden egg, a path to personal wealth.

Then, when the fairies -- speaking on Mothra’s behalf -- ask for the return of the egg, the company people all but laugh at them. The egg is the company’s asset now, and they have extended themselves with some expense to build an incubator, and so forth.

There’s no way the company is giving it back.

Uniquely, the company’s representatives see the egg exclusively as property. They purchase it from a previous (illegitimate…) owner, the locals whose land it came to rest on.  But now, because payment was made, it is a resource that belongs to the company for reasons of exploitation.

In contrast, the fairies make an argument based not on property, but on the common good.  They are afraid that the egg could hatch, and inadvertently cause tremendous destruction.  The fairies, in other words, are looking out for all mankind, while the company just cares about its own profits.

The fear that a hatched egg could inadvertently cause tremendous damage is significant in Godzilla vs. The Thing and we see that fear realized visually with Godzilla. He begins a reign of destruction in Japan, but notice that in this case, his destruction doesn’t seem at all intentional.

For example, his tail gets caught in a tower, and the tower falls down on him. 

Moments later, Godzilla actually slips on a stretch of land. He loses his balance, and falls into another building.  Then, trying to stand-up and re-balance himself, he further damages the building.

This is not the behavior of angry animal pulping a city. This is a natural force doing what natural forces always do: inadvertently causing great damage in man’s world. There is not malicious intent, but damage is nonetheless caused.

The commentary about big business in Godzilla vs. The Thing also extends to journalism.

Journalism is supposed to be a beacon of hope, exposing corruption and danger and keeping the public informed in a timely fashion.  But as one character notes “a newspaper has a limited capacity to reach people. It can’t enforce the law.”

By implication, the government – in bed with big business – should be the one enforcing the law, but it isn’t doing so. 

Again, Godzilla vs. The Thing forges its critique of laissez-faire capitalist practices.  The government and military in vain try to stop Godzilla’s reign of terror, when a route of diplomacy -- with the fairies – has been neglected.

The general idea applies to Mothra’s island, as well.

Look what the countries of the so-called First World have done here, with their fearsome, high-tech military-industrial complex. Such forces have destroyed a once-beautiful island, leaving it an environmental wreck.  Only one small area is still green, and the rest of the island is barren, littered with skeletons. 

The land -- representing nature itself -- was used as man’s property (much like the egg is treated as property…), by people unconcerned with the common good, focused instead on ideological or material profit.

But Godzilla vs. The Thing isn’t cynical or pessimistic about such matters, which is one reason why I love it so much.  Instead, the film is actually hopeful, and shows that two wrongs don’t make a right.

Mothra and her people were treated rudely by the new owners of the Egg, and their needs and desires were never taken into account. It would be easy to treat the people of imperiled Japan the same way now.

The people of the island could have reciprocated cruelty with cruelty. They could have stuck to their “we will not help” line, when assistance was requested. 

Instead, the fairies see how bad judgment should not be repaid with bad judgment.  A line of dialogue in the film notes that “as humans, we are responsible for each other,” and that’s the film’s positive message. 

If we can help each other in a time of crisis, we must do so.  This is true even in times when there is nothing for us to “gain” or “earn.”  That’s the behavior Mothra models.  The giant creature is weak and infirm, and has no “vested” interest in fighting Godzilla.  But Mothra goes into battle for the common good, putting selfish concerns aside. 

It’s true that Godzilla vs. The Thing moves along some familiar story lines and plot points. As was the case in King Kong vs. Godzilla, we here visit the native island and meet a culture that worships another monster.  In both cases, that “other” monster is recruited to battle a rampaging Godzilla. 

And also as in King Kong vs. Godzilla, Godzilla apparently goes down in the last round, and the victor (Kong or the Mothra grubs…) begins the long trek back to an island home. 

In this case, the two closing shots are practically identical.

But if you put aside the familiarity of this narrative’s overall structure, you can begin to see how there is (red) meat on this Godzilla film’s bones, and how the filmmakers have found a way to again explore aspects of man’s world, and his short-sighted misdeeds. 

The best Godzilla films are ones in which the creatures represent some force or aspect of human life beyond themselves. They become, instead, avatars of atomic war, avarice, or even pollution.

Here, sweet Mothra is a shining symbol of hope, and selflessness, representing the capacity for man to do the right thing, even if there are personal consequences.

Godzilla Week: King Kong vs. Godzilla (1962)

This Godzilla movie from 1962 is undeniably a hell of a lot of fun, yet it is not quite the clash of the titans that fans of both King Kong and Godzilla might have hoped for.

I’ve probably seen King Kong vs. Godzilla ten times since I was five years old, and I certainly love it for nostalgic reasons, if not for its quality.

To wit, the film today seems a little superficial and shallow, and a bit like a missed opportunity. Specifically, Godzilla’s screen time seems unnecessarily abbreviated, and the Great Lizard doesn’t get to express much in terms of character or personality. 

Meanwhile, King Kong obligingly relives all the well-known moments of his particular mythology, with a baffling new power -- electricity eating! -- thrown in for good measure.

The nail in the coffin is the film’s anemic final battle, which doesn’t rate all that highly in terms of Godzilla franchise history. It’s a brief affair, and mostly lacking in tension, perhaps in an effort to keep it fair.

I mean, I love King Kong as much as anyone, but who really believes that Godzilla wouldn’t completely smoke the giant ape (literally) with his atomic fire breath?

Intriguingly, King Kong vs. Godzilla’s relatively inconclusive ending -- which occurs near water -- does seem to forecast, after a fashion, the closing moments of Freddy vs. Jason (2004). 

In that film, as you may recall, Jason emerges from the water with Freddy’s head…but Freddy winks at the camera, letting you know he may be down, but he isn’t out.  I remember thinking at the time that there was no way on Earth Jason would ever beat Freddy.

In King Kong vs. Godzilla, King Kong emerges (apparently…) triumphant and starts trudging it out for Faro Island, while Godzilla is MIA. 

He’s not visible, but you know he ain’t dead, either…

At this point, I should probably note a bit about my own biases. The Godzilla movies that I tend to love the most -- and admire most as works of art -- are those that are about, essentially, man’s stewardship of the Earth. 

Accordingly, two of my favorites in the cycle are the original Godzilla (1954), a searing document that has lost none of its power today, and Godzilla vs. Hedorah (1972), which replaces the terror of nuclear power with the terror of unrestrained pollution.

In both the 1950s and the 1970s, there is this pervasive fear in the Godzilla franchise of man ruining life on Earth, spiraling out control…creating ever more destructive “monsters” from his own lack of wisdom.

King Kong vs. Godzilla boasts little such overt meaning or deep sub-text, although its commentary on big business and Pacific Pharmaceutical’s avarice appears to set the tone for John Guillermin’s 1976 King Kong.  

In both films, Kong is seen not as a natural force of nature, but rather as a “tool” that can be used in terms of marketing a product to the public. 

I note this leitmotif with appropriate appreciation, but also suggest it is much more expertly featured in Godzilla’s next outing, the superior Godzilla vs. The Thing, a film which pits him against Mothra. 

In fact, that (very good…) film plays very much like a superior remake of King Kong vs. Godzilla, only with all the wrinkles here ironed out.

“We must bring them together!”

Eric Carter (Michael Keith), a news anchor for the United Nations, reports about a new environmental problem plaguing Japan.  A group of icebergs are breaking up in Japan’s sea.

When a U.S. submarine, the Sea Hawk investigates, it discovers that the bergs are radioactive.  The sub is soon lost, and presumed destroyed.

Later, a helicopter exploring the same territory sees Godzilla burst out of an iceberg, bringing terror to the world.  The giant radioactive lizard -- apparently a cross between a tyrannosaurus rex and a stegosaurus  -- heads immediately and instinctively for Japan…

At the same time, however, an exploratory team from Pacific Pharmaceuticals visits isolated Faro Island in hopes of bringing back more narcoleptic “soma berries,” and the legendary Faro Island Monster as a TV mascot as well. 

The natives on the island worship a giant ape, King Kong, and when Kong saves them all from a giant, carnivorous octopus, it is easy to see why. 

King Kong is brought back to civilization at precisely the same time that Godzilla makes his deadly march towards Tokyo.

The two titans meet, and King Kong gets the worst of it in the first battle. 

But after dining on some electrical wire, the giant ape is ready for the final battle at Mount Fuji, as the world watches…

“I hope we’ve seen the last of them for a long time…”

King Kong vs. Godzilla is basically a lightning-quick reiteration of two famous monster myths, and then a half-hearted climactic battle between goliaths.

In terms of Kong and his story, this film showcases his island home and the exploitation of the natives there by modern civilization.

At one point, Pacific Pharmaceutical employees give children and women cigarettes to assure their cooperation.

But more to the point, the film reveals the great wall separating Kong from the village, as well as the capture of Kong so that he can be brought to the First World as, essentially “a show-piece.” 

In this case, Kong won’t play on Broadway, but on TV instead.  The new wrinkle here is that Kong is downed not by gas grenades, but by a berry narcotic drink which he enjoys…and which makes him very sleepy.

Once in Japan, Kong goes through more of his familiar routine. He is curious about an urban train, and up-ends it…much to the chagrin of the passengers.  And the climbs to the top of a building -- an Empire State Building surrogate -- clutching a woman.  In this case, it’s not Fay Wray but unlucky (and gorgeous…) Fumiko (Mie Hama).

Godzilla, meanwhile, must reckon with the same set of challenges he already faced in his 1954 film: a ring of electric towers forming a barricade around Tokyo. 

Similarly, King Kong vs. Godzilla features approximately a dozen mentions of the atomic bomb, and whether or not it is appropriate for use in this circumstance.  The bombs are described as being ready, but they are never deployed, for the obvious reason that they would cause considerable destruction.

Perhaps the most interesting facet of King Kong vs. Godzilla today is the vastly expanded role of the U.N.  In this film, it has its own TV network, for instance, not to mention its own highly-advanced satellite. 

Indeed, the U.N. seems to be the hub of the civilized world here, which is something that would no doubt send Glenn Beck screaming under his bed.  But, apparently in 1962 there was a lot less cynicism about the organization than there is in 2014…

In terms of visuals, it’s fair to state that they are a mixed bag. The Faro Island wall looks completely amazing, for instance.  It’s a different design than the one we saw in the 1933 Kong, but nonetheless quite impressive.

But on the other hand, the Kong suit itself is really, really dreadful. King Kong looks ridiculous in this film.  He isn’t helped, either by a script which requires him to be the Kaiju equivalent of a heavy drinker.

King Kong vs. Godzilla also sees the regal ape carried from scene to scene by a clutch of over-sized balloons…

My greatest disappointment, though, is that Godzilla at this early relatively early stage in his career doesn’t showcase some of his best ticks and behaviors: the flapping of his arms in triumph after a successful blow, the occasional victory dance, and other expressive acts that mark the big guy as something more than your average radioactive dinosaur.

Also, I feel very strongly that the U.N. scientist here gets it all wrong when he notes that the battle in the film is brute force (Godzilla) vs intelligence (King Kong). 

As we all know, Godzilla demonstrates cunning and intelligence throughout the film series.  Even so – and as I wrote above – it’s clear that if the filmmakers were being completely fair about this, King Kong wouldn’t survive the first round.

Later monsters -- like Mothra, Megalon, and Rodan, for instance -- are capable of countering Godzilla’s atomic fire breath with weaponry of their own.  The filmmakers endow Kong with the power to re-charge from chewing electrical wires, but let’s face it…you can’t re-charge when you’re dead. 

Godzilla would set fire to Kong’s furry countenance with one good shot, and that would be it.

King Kong vs. Godzilla also quickly turns its corporate goon, Mr. Tako, into a buffoon or figure of fun.  The accent on humor absolutely undercuts the social critique about out-of-control business interests.  I mean, who can really be mad at a guy who almost accidentally detonates the dynamite on Kong’s raft?

I hope that no one perceives me as being too hard on this movie, because or all its flaws, it is eminently watchable and never dull. For me, watching the movie is like spending time with an old friend.

And yet, I also feel that King Kong could have been so much more, and that other entries -- like the aforementioned Godzilla vs. The Thing -- are so much stronger. 

Godzilla Week: Godzilla (1954)

The mighty monster Godzilla returns to American cinemas this Friday. He's almost 65 years old. 

He looks pretty spry, though, at least based on his recent screen outings, and both my 12 year old son and I are hoping he has a lot of life left in him.  

But Godzilla -- like James Bond, or the crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise -- has also undergone quite a few changes across the decades. He keeps returning to movie screens, I suspect, because he keeps getting updated for fresh audiences.

Godzilla's essence remains intact, even as his world and occasionally his nature get tweaked.

What seems truly remarkable, however, is just how powerful the 1954 film -- the franchise's first outing -- remains, even today. It's a relentlessly dark and effective monster movie that, despite progress in special effects, remains in the top tier (if not top slot...) of its particular sub-genre.  

Godzilla features a narrative "driven by the cause and effect of technology, namely advances in scientific and nuclear weaponry," according to Justin Bowyer, in The Cinema of Japan and Korea (Wallflower Press, 2004, page 63).

Specifically, there are two galvanizing incidents roiling beneath the surface of this classic monster movie.  The first is the atomic bombing of Nagasaki and Hiroshima by America in August of 1945. Today, these are still the only instances of nuclear warfare in human history. 

The second is the detonation of a 15-megaton American H-Bomb on Bikini Atoll, which irradiated 7,000 square miles of ocean.  The entire crew of a Japanese tuna boat, Lucky Dragon, later developed radiation sickness.

Godzilla mastermind and director Ishiro Honda utilizes these historical events as the seeds of his fantastic but meaningful story, and indeed his intent was to ignite audience memories of what had occurred. 

"The abrupt emergence from the south of the monster's unspeakable threat reminded Japanese audiences of the U.S. military bombs that had reduced the city to flaming ruins only a few years before," according to the book Japanese Cinema (2007, page 105).

In almost pointed contradiction to this social critique about modern man and his dreadful new brand of warfare, Godzilla also features a narrative that appeals to children, one explicitly about an "innocent" or "tragic" creature stumbling into the modernity of the human world, and wreaking (not entirely intentionally...) havoc.  

All the Godzilla films since the first have picked up, to one extent or another, on this story of Godzilla as an "innocent and tragic" (to quote Godzilla: 1985) being simultaneously worshiped and hated by the world of man. 

"Godzilla is about a beast of superhuman proportions encountering the human world," asserts Murray Pomerance in Cinema and Modernity (2006, page 13),  "but it is impossible without the appurtenances of modernity." 

In other words, Godzilla could not wreak his havoc on Japan if the modern world had not created, or awakened him in the first place. Therefore, in some sense Godzilla is blameless, or guilt-less, even considering all the destruction he causes.  I have seen how my son, Joel, reacts sympathetically to Godzilla. He sees him not just as a great and powerful monster, but as a being who has stumbled into a world he doesn't understand, and that, largely, rejects him, because of his very nature. 

If one ties these two ideas -- Godzilla as Nature Unbalanced due to man's poor shepherding of the world, and Godzilla as virtual innocent, yet again, made by man -- one begins to understand the deep appeal of the 1954 film, and indeed, the entire franchise.

"Humans are weak animals."

As the film opens, nuclear testing near Japan has awakened a prehistoric goliath, or “deep sea organism,” a dinosaur-like creature with the power to emit radioactive fire breath. Upon Godzilla’s awakening, several small fishing boats are destroyed at sea, their crews murdered in blinding, white-hot flashes.

A paleontologist, Dr. Yamane (Takashi Shimura), conducts research and determines Godzilla’s origin in the Jurassic Age. He follows the monster’s (over-sized) trail to Odo Island, where the locals recount old legends of the monster Godzilla: a creature that lived in the ocean and fed on humanity to survive.  In ages past, the islanders conducted a kind of “exorcism” ritual (with native girls as sacrifices…) to appease Godzilla.

While Godzilla moves irrevocably closer to mainland Japan, the government establishes a “Counter Godzilla Headquarters” whose first gambit is to destroy the beast at sea with depth charges.  

When that move fails to stop the beast’s progress, a second defense gambit is devised. It involves the construction of an electric fence along the coast to ensnare Godzilla.

That defense attempt fails as well, and Godzilla reduces most of Tokyo to rubble in a night of unending fire and smoke. Dr. Yamane’s daughter, Emiko (Momoko Kochi), however, knows of a secret that could reverse Japan’s fortunes. 

Her former betrothed, Dr. Serizawa (Ahihiko Hirata) has developed a weapon even more deadly than atomic bombs, a so-called “oxygen destroyer.”  He has sworn her to secrecy about the device however, because he fears it will be taken out of his hands, and used on an international, even global scale.

With Godzilla’s reign of destruction unstopped, however, Serizawa must re-consider using the doomsday weapon.  

He knows if he uses it, however, he must also die with Godzilla, so the oxygen destroyer will never be used again by mankind…


"If my device can serve a good purpose, I would announce it to everyone in the world. But in its current form, it's just a weapon of horrible destruction."

Godzilla commences with the strange mystery at sea regarding the sinking of several Japanese fishing ships (reflecting the Lucky Dragon incident), and then moves into a tale of epic destruction and survival.  

One facet of the film that remains so effective in 2014 is the almost whirlwind, documentary approach to the narrative.  Early on, Dr. Yamane delivers a briefing about Godzilla’s possible origins and nature, and it’s like we’re students sitting in on a university lecture. 

Also, there’s a heated discussion -- or fight -- in the halls of Japanese government about whether or not to reveal Godzilla’s nature to the public. There's precious little decorum to be seen.

These and other similar moments make the audience feel like it is eavesdropping on real conferences and legislatures. It’s quite unique how the film “moves” from one plot point to another via these meetings, briefings and other formal moments.  

The characters, though very interesting (particularly in the love triangle of Ogata/Emiko/Serizawa) don’t dictate the flow of the story in any meaningful way until the final act.  

That’s important, because this fact plays into the epic feel of the drama.  These men and women -- and all of Japan indeed -- are swept into a story beyond their control.

Beyond the documentary approach, Godzilla utilizes its atomic bogeyman as a metaphor or signifier for nuclear destruction, and accordingly many of the images feel like authentic documentary footage from the Hiroshima or Nagasaki aftermath. 

 For instance, at one point there is a long, deliberate pan across a ruined, twisted, formerly-urban landscape. The scene is one of total desolation, a testament to the searing power of nuclear weapons (or Godzilla’s fire breath, as the case may be). 

A city once stood there, but now only twisted metal remains.

Shortly after that composition, other footage reveals doctors and nurses moving dozens of patients on stretchers into a make-shift hospital or recovery center.  The scene is one of human suffering on an almost impossible-to-believe scale.  The impression given is of a perpetual war-zone, a blazing hell on earth.

Godzilla pretty plainly uses the aftermath of Nagasaki and Hiroshima as its formative imagery, recalling a real-life nuclear terror not even a full decade in the past at the time of its production.   

At one point, the detonations are even alluded to in dialogue, albeit subtly, with a mother and daughter facing jeopardy from Godzilla.  

The mother tells her daughter (bleakly…) that they are going to join the girl’s father in Heaven. The inference is that he died at Nagasaki or Hiroshima.  Another unspoken implication is that the family's experience will not be an isolated event. A new age of man has begun because of the opening of Pandora's technological box.  More families will die in this fashion.

The Honda film also reflects the dawning nuclear age in another trenchant way, namely in the character of Dr. Serizawa.  

Pretty plainly, he is a surrogate for J. Robert Oppenheimer, the theoretical physicist who worked at the Manhattan Project and is known, historically as “The Father of the Atomic Bomb.”  

According to interviews, Oppenheimer once remarked, after witnessing a test atomic bomb detonation that he had “become death” and a “destroyer of worlds.”  In a sense, Godzilla is Oppenheimer’s child, then.

Dr Serizawa in Godzilla is acutely aware that he might suffer the same fate as Oppenheimer, and may be remembered the same way…and he doesn’t want that.  

His Oxygen-Destroyer is more destructive, more monstrous even than the H-Bomb, and Serizawa knows that it very rapidly would become the object of a new international arms race.  He makes a moral, individual decision, however, and decides that knowledge of the weapon should die with him (after he has burned his notes).  A second, post-nuclear arms race is thus averted through his individual sense of right and wrong, and his willingness to sacrifice himself.  

If Godzilla is a warning about the dangers of Pandora’s Box opened in the Atomic Age, then Serizawa himself is an indicator that the box can only be shut via the auspices of individual conscience.  

Even though Serizawa has created something of monstrous destructive potential, he nonetheless possesses the moral barometer to see his work destroyed, not unloosed on the world.

Unfortunately, as the film’s ending reminds viewers, not all men are as noble or moral as Serizawa was.  As long as nuclear tests persist, Dr. Yamane warns, other “Godzillas” could rise up to threaten human civilization.

If this final warning sounds preachy to you, it may be because you haven’t just finished viewing the film.  Godzilla’s scorching imagery -- a world of black-and-white but mostly black -- earns the filmmaker the right to ponder big philosophical issues at the denouement.  Above all else, the movie serves as a cautionary tale for an age when the future of nuclear war was unwritten.

Many Godzilla movies have come and gone since this one premiered, some wonderful, some not so wonderful  However, this searing first film -- heavy on fire, blinding-light and suffering -- remains an indelible viewing experience.  Some have called Honda’s Godzilla a “grotesque” work of art.  

But one must wonder if that descriptor isn’t a commentary on mankind more than it is on Godzilla.

Guest Post: Rocketman (2019)

Rocketman

By Jonas Schwartz

On the heels of last year's hit Queen bio, Bohemian Rhapsody, Sir Elton John gets the movie treatment with Rocketman. Though, unlike Freddy Mercury, John still lives and has had major interaction with the filming, including forming a bond with the talented actor who plays him, Taron Egerton. Featuring dazzling musical numbers and an exquisite, emotionally naked performance by Egerton, there is much to enjoy in the 121 minute film. Sadly, despite the sexual subject matter, the script could have been written in the 1930s and '40s, when bios of famous people were all the rage. Writer Lee Hall pulls out every creaky cliché so that the audience has no concept of another soul other than John.

A bespectacled and bedazzled phoenix-dressed Elton John sashays into an addiction treatment center after walking out on a concert.  He slowly strips away his costume and his walls of anguish, as he reveals how his love-less childhood and overwhelming adulthood have led him to alcoholism, drug addiction, sex addiction and shop-oholism. As a shy child named Reginald Dwight, he lost pride in self because his glum father (Steven Mackintosh) avoided affection, while his egoistic mother (Bryce Dallas Howard) dragged him through childhood like a burdensome pet. Only his gran (Gemma Jones) fostered Reggie's gifts. Gravitating towards the piano, Reggie found joy, and later recognition, playing in bands. A meeting with a music manager led to his longest standing relationship, with his close friend and lyricist Bernie Taupin (Jamie Bell). Ridding himself of Reggie forever, the singer adopts a new name, Elton Hercules John, and flamboyantly turns the stage into a fantastical land of Oz. His outrageous costumes and theatrical stunts -- like using his feet to play piano cords -- quickly transform Elton into a wealthy superstar, but that's always when the vipers start slithering around.

Possibly influenced by the recent hit LA LA Land, Rocketman returns to the old concepts of musical film, where characters sing in situations they normally would not, breaking out in tunes and joining in with strangers who all know the same lyrics and dance moves. That's a brave conceit and one that works well in the fantasia of Elton John's mind.  The score is also a jukebox musical, where all of John's songs are put in the mouths of characters to reflect their emotions and hidden desires. There's a reason why the Jukebox musical is the more reviled amongst critics. Writers shoehorn already established songs into a plot attempting to make it mirror situations and thoughts. For example, some of the lyrics of "Tiny Dancer" may appear to fit the situation as John watches his friend and partner Taubin dance with a sexy partygoer, however, the song does not reflect the isolation John feels at a party right after his successful night at The Troubadour, where even his best friend has left him to fail at his own devices. Other songs seem too on the nose that they feel inorganic.

Where the movie really launches is in replicating the intoxication of fame through the musical sequences, particularly John and the audience lifting into the air like helium-filled balloons in the "Crocodile Rock" sequence, or representing the frustration and joy of creative juices flowing like in the "Your Song" sequence.

The only complex relationship in the film script is between John and Taupin.  Writer Hall gives none of the other characters enough depth so that they seem real, and not just barriers for John to conquer. The worst culprit is the John Reid character, John's shifty manager and lover (Richard Madden). Reid, who also managed Queen and was played by Aiden Gillen in Bohemian Rhapsody, is a vampire, sucking his partner's riches away, while abusing him physically and mentally. His metamorphosis from sexy, uninhibited lover to power-hungry creep will give audiences whiplash. Despite Madden giving his all in the role, the writing feels more like spite towards a person who publicly damaged Elton John, than a fully-realized character.  It's the same poor characterization that Mercury's Mephistophelean lover Paul Prenter suffered from in Bohemian Rhapsody. Villains we can understand are more powerful than those who just commit evil because the plot requires it.

The film rests heavily on Egerton and he does NOT disappoint. A fabulous interpreter of John's songs and a candid portrayer of a complication man, Egerton never mimics Sir Elton John, he inhabits him. Egerton's love for the man he plays is palpable, and he gives Sir Elton the respect but also the jagged edges the behemoth deserves. If Sir Elton John had not existed before this movie, Taren Egerton would have created the myth with this performance. Bell is endearing as the rock in John's life and in a small role, Tate Donovan is hilarious as an out-there Doug Weston, owner of The Troubadour. The rest of the cast is good, just weighed down with thin roles.

On the merits of Egerton's performance and several musical numbers, Rocketman is an enjoyable time capsule of Sir Elton John's early life and career. It's just a shame that more ingenuity didn't go into the writing and direction. The musical numbers soar with an otherworldly nature, but the book scenes crash down to Earth.

Check out Jonas's other reviews at www.theatermania.com/author/jonas-schwartz_169