- Original theatrical poster - image courtesy of Britannica.com
There are many fans of Godzilla (or Gojira, as he is known in the Japanese tongue) who would rather forget the existence of the Americanized version of the original 1954 film, which was substantially re-edited and re-shot before being released stateside in 1956.
Purist values notwithstanding, the disgruntled should at the least acknowledge that, were it not for this version of the film, the mighty lizard might not have been gifted with the title he so rightly deserves, “the king of the monsters.” This film's subtitle is an obvious challenge to the success of 1933's King Kong, and probably the determining factor in having them both meet in a 1962 sequel.
Whether you consider him by size, destructive capabilities, or the sheer number of films he’s appeared in, you have to hand it to the radioactive, paddle-footed dragon. He might well be the most instantly recognizable movie star of any kind throughout the world.
In the grand scheme of things, Godzilla, King of the Monsters is among the less offensive examples of a reworked film (the infuriating “Love Conquers All” version of Brazil takes the cake in that category), and I’d go one further and say that, despite being an inferior manifestation, this version is in many ways a reinforcement of the values and themes of the Japanese original–an olive branch extended from the former destructor to their devastatingly vanquished foe.
Investor Edmund Goldman knew a moneymaker when he saw one, and purchased the international rights for Gojira from Toho Studios for a measly $25,000, turning it over to Jewell Enterprises for the necessary adaptation. Japanese cinema was just catching on stateside, thanks primarily to Akira Kurosawa, yet, regardless of lingering WWII stigmas, it was common knowledge that audiences wouldn’t take to a monster movie with subtitles. A new storytelling angle would have to be devised (one that would ultimately parallel the start-in-the-middle approach of later films like GoodFellas and Pulp Fiction), and also introduced was a surrogate who could lead American audiences into the chaos.
Theoretically simplistic but rather ingenious in execution was the decision to add a new character to the film: Steve Martin (helmed by Raymond Burr, fresh from his villainous role in Hitchcock’s Rear Window), an American newspaper reporter who happens to be visiting Tokyo when the titular monster makes his deadly appearances, and who knows the principle characters through additional happenstance. These many conveniences are handled with a deft sleight of hand, disguising their conceptually
Using disguising camera angles and Japanese extras, extensive footage of Burr was incorporated into the original film, of which only a fraction remains. The device can look clumsy to those looking for it (with any notion of home viewing and DVDs, more care might’ve been taken in matching the details of the post-production footage), but the blend is fairly seamless overall, even considering the frequently blatant dubbing of the Japanese performers into awkward English. It’s a fitting porthole for the audience whose country initiated the nuclear panic that Godzilla stands in response to, and the film is surprisingly empathetic and progressive in its humanitarian look at Japan’s plight. Compared to the “Japoteurs” propaganda that was barely a decade out, it’s an astonishing leap forward.
Regardless of which version of the film is in question, the essence of Godzilla comes down to the big fella himself, sometimes quite obviously a man in a suit but rendered with more than enough skill amongst the detailed miniatures of Tokyo to leave the intended, horrific impression of a radioactive steamroller. His screen time is minimal, but the film makes every second count.
Shot in darkness for nighttime destruction, the beast – performed by Haruo Nakajima and Katsumi Tezuka – is not unlike an oversized toddler let loose in a china shop. Awoken and mutated by nuclear blasts, this prehistoric remnant is as much of a victim as the hapless thousands burned and trampled by his goliath presence, and it’s only by a stroke of luck that mankind has developed a weapon powerful enough to neutralize his deadly force.
The final underwater sequences of the film are an eerie ballet of coinciding fates – a creature out of time, a scientist with an unprecedented responsibility, unfit for humanity’s destructive ways. Raymond Burr’s solemn commentary is oddly fitting despite being an afterthought, and his chilling final passages are as good as anything the original film has to offer. This Godzilla’s blow is softened, but it’s far from the gutted shell many would have you take it for.
Godzilla, King of the Monsters!. Dir. Terry Morse, Ishiro Honda. Perf. Raymond Burr, Takashi Shimura, Akira Takarada, Momoko Kochi, Akihiro Hirata, Haruo Nakajima, Katsumi Tezuka. Embassy Pictures Corporation, 1956. Running Time: 80 min.
