The Bicentennial Beast-Bashes Never End!

But This Serialized Essay Does! The 1976 Monster Rally, Part 5 (Finale)

It’s all about wrestling, when you get right down to it. Though nobody has ever written about it, to my knowledge, I see a pretty direct correlation between the Mexican wrestler-versus-monsters movies of the 1960s and what the Toho daikaija-eiga soon became. Even the posed Toho Studios monster shots (see above) as the 1960s wore on and the 1970s arrived looked more and more like posed wrestler shots—only their lucha libre outfits were lucha lizard!

And those guys in the monster suits—Shinji Takagi (Godzilla), Kenpachiro Satsuma (Gigan), Tsugutoshi Komada (Jet Jaguar) and Hideto Odachi (Megalon)—worked and rehearsed and sweat their asses off to provide the necessary spectacle!

Need I say it? Yes, Godzilla indeed kicked plentiful Megalon and Gigan rubbery butts, and took no prisoners. The kid sitting behind us was plenty satisfied, as was the entire Bijou Theater audience, once the movie was over. We (and they) got our (their) money’s worth.

What ゴジラ対メガロ / Gojira tai Megaro / Godzilla vs. Megalon was all about—what it’s still all about—is the last 20 minutes of the movie: the wrestling match.

The rest is all slow-motion gravy. Nice gravy, mind you, or at least OK gravy, especially if you’d/you’ve cultivated a refined taste for it (as I had, and have), but it’s really all about the last 20 minutes of the movie, at which point the miniature Japanese countryside is the mat, and the wrestlers make their moves in rubber suits that put the most outré of all (and I mean all) luche libre to shame.

So: Megalon and Gigan beat Jet Jaguar into the dirt. Like, literally (and I mean literally) into the dirt.

In fact, even after Godzilla arrived, it was nearly dirt-nap time for ol’ Jet Jaguar at the—well, they’re not hands, really—at the, uh, sharp curved puncture thingies of Gigan.

There’s a quick, hilarious shot (the Bijou audience went nuts at the cut to this image) of Gigan with Jet Jaguar somehow hammered into the turf, at the complete mercy of Gigan, and Gigan threatening Jet with the ol’ throat-cut manuever with those rounded-razor-forearms (left).

Godzilla takes the hint and immediately switches his attack to prevent Jet from suffering his own jugular jets spraying.

And the Bijou crowd howled its approval.

Like all wrestling, it was and is about action, and it was and is about poses. It was and is all about the individual acts of the wrestling match: Godzilla and Jet Jaguar must be down and on the edge of utter humiliating defeat, at least twice, during the match.

At one point, Megalon upchucks his fiery technicolor-yawn-balls and the Big G and Jet are encircled in raging flames—cue (in my head) Johnny Cash‘s “Ring of Fire”—and it must appear hopeless, just hopeless, to the five-year-kid seated behind me.

Then, they fight back, and turn the tide of the tournament to their favor.

That’s how it worked, and how it works. It’s the formula—of wrestling, of lucha libre, of Toho Godzilla monster movies. It’s a sporting event for monster geeks.

And the poses. Oh, man, the poses. Godzilla‘s hand signals to Jet Jaguar; Godzilla‘s impossible jump-kick (self-propelled off the ground up on his tail for, like, two miles; a favorite of MST3K, so much so they used it in their opening title montage spot for ages)—

—it’s all about the action poses, and the earth-shaking consequences to set up the next pose: like, Jet Jaguar picking Gigan lifting him up into the air, just like Ultraman, and flinging his razor-fisted ass seventeen kilometers.

For all the bad-mouthing of Godzilla vs. Megalon in 1976 and thereafter, right up to 2012, I have to say that 20 minute wrestling match was beautifully staged. Unlike some of the Toho Godzilla and monster pics, it didn’t drag on too long; it was just enough, hitting all its marks, and the Bijou Audience left their seats chattering and laughing and happy as pigs in shit that evening. They got their money’s worth from both The Giant Spider Invasion and Godzilla vs. Megalon, and the action finale of the Godzilla movie made ’em all happy, however ridiculous it was and remains.

And after I bought Mike that pitcher of beer I owed him, he and the other two JSC tutors in our fearless film-viewing quartet bought me a pitcher of beer, saying I’d earned it: they’d had a great time at the Bijou. We had other fun nights, too, but not like that one, and not at the movies.

That’s what folks forget in this era of “quick, let me post my definitive review of this DVD release I just watched all by my serious-ass lonesome in my serious-ass home theater” when a movie like Godzilla vs. Megalon finally hits DVD, as it just did in the US.

They forget these movies were made to be seen in theaters, with an audience, and it was all about that show.

We didn’t watch movies on our TVs or monitors or computers or cell phones (Jesus, why would anyone watch a Toho monster movie on a fucking itsy-bitsy cell phone screen?)—these were movies designed and calculated to get asses into seats in theaters like the Bijou. The ad campaigns, which were shameless, were designed to trick us into going; the movies we remember delivered something, sometimes even something vaguely resembling what the ad campaign had promised.

Did we get Godzilla vomiting hell-fire from atop the World Trade Center tower into Megalon, blowing flaming bacon bits at G from atop his facing World Trade Center tower? Fuck, no. Not even close. We all laughed and shook our heads over that one-sheet on our way out through the Bijou lobby, en route to the local bar. We admired the sheer blarney of it: we’d been fooled. But we’d been entertained.

Did we get a good time? You bet your ass we did.

Good enough that my “you owe me, Bissette” compadres turned around and bought me a pitcher of beer after the movie!

It’s important to remember, too, that the Toho monster mashes were primers for the martial arts movies outfits like Cinema Shares were pouring into any and all available nabe, grindhouse, and drive-in screens. Those, more than the lucha libre ever could have or did, were raking in bucks in certain American theaters.

Those, too, were sports movies for audiences that by and large could care less about sports. But the dynamics were those of the wrestling matches: there were clearly-defined “good guys” and “bad guys,” martyrs and sacrificial lambs, staged near-defeats and triumphant turnabouts, bloody mayhem (even Godzilla suffers a bloody blow, with an absolute geyser of red, runny gore exploding from his shoulder when Gigan flies through and delivers the first blow), and final victory (in most cases).

And in the end, the victors acknowledge their bond of brotherhood, forged in battle, and the movie ends.

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So, what became of Godzilla vs. Megalon? I’ve already talked a bit about it being a constant public-domain eyesore in every video outlet, retail and rental, in America throughout the 1980s and early 1990s.

Trust me, there were a lot of videocassette (primarily vhs) editions, all from similar blurry, slightly cut-down (see below) pan-and-scan transfers from battered prints.

None of ’em preserved the widescreen glory of that night in the Bijou, and all of ’em made it easy to say to oneself, “shit, it doesn’t look as good as I remember it looking—I must have been really high that night” or somesuch.

Those who first saw Godzilla vs. Megalon on the 1977 NBC John Belushi-in-a-Godzilla-suit broadcast debut only saw about 45 minutes of the film, really, in a context openly inviting ridicule and abuse, and in a severely truncated cut and pan-and-scan form that didn’t even hint at how satisfying that 20 minute fight finale was on the big screen.

The 1980s vhs editions were, at least, the complete American G-rated theatrical version, but they still didn’t do the movie or its reputation any favors (nor did their occasional double-video-bill companions; but why color the black-and-white blurry shot of the Snow Creature to look somewhat like Jet Jaguar? Weird, that).

The rest—well, even diehard daikaiju-eiga devotees found it easy to piss on the movie, and for about two decades it was only the diehards who bothered to track down the pricey Japanese laserdisc release that hinted at how good the movie had once looked. Those of us who snapped up gray-and-black-market vhs dubs of that laserdisc were usually getting a murky dub that was barely above the viewing quality of the public-domain vhs editions available for $8.99 and less in the Ames racks and video store blow-out bins.

Then, as the vhs era ended, Godzilla vs. Megalon seemingly vanished from American access. It rather suddenly became a sort of Holy Grail to monster movie lovers, a highly sought-after title.

When I co-managed First Run Video in Brattleboro, VT, I zealously guarded and made sure we always had a rental copy in the library. We had to replace two stolen vhs copies over the years.

As DVD emerged in 1999-2001, I expected another tsunami of bad transfers on the new format, but something had changed—Toho had become very aggressive about protecting and prosecuting their ownership of the title and movie with the format change (coincidentally or not).

I snapped up the one and only DVD edition I ever saw pop up in the US, from an outfit calling themselves “Passion Productions,” in 2002. Yep, the same ol’ pan-and-scanned murky transfer on every vhs edition, but it was something. I pre-ordered mine from a music video distributor; the mainstream DVD and video distributors never touched it (our Ingram and Baker & Taylor orders for our sell-through racks were cancelled, unfulfilled). Here’s a scan from my copy’s sleeve art:

The Sci-Fi Channel (as it at the time called itself) broadcast a letterboxed transfer of Godzilla vs. Megalon on August 31, 2003 (though I still have a copy, I’ve not watched it recently enough to say for certain what edit it presented); that was the gray-market bootleg of choice for a few years. Then, in 2006, I preordered the now-famous, now-highly-sought-after Mystery Science Theater 3000 Collection Volume 10 set from Rhino that featured—bless them!—both the beloved movies from that 1976 night at the Bijou Theater, and lo, they were marvelous slices of MST3K hilarity in and of themselves.

Sadly, but understandably, Toho asserted their ownership of Godzilla vs. Megalon, and Rhino had to pull the original edition of the Vol. 10 collection off shelves. I suspect Rhino had concerns before the set was manufactured—after all, that’s not Godzilla on the cover, that’s as generic a T. rex as can be found.  Well, I had mine (and still do)—but I hasten to add, it was the usual slightly-cut, badly pan-and-scanned vhs transfer that MST3K used for broadcast (and archived in the collection). Still, as with the Passion Productions DVD, better than nothing.

The Rhino replacement reissue supplanted Godzilla vs. Megalon with (if memory serves) The Giant Gila Monster—an honorable contender and replacement, indeed, and a fine MST3K sendup, but, alas, no Godzilla vs. Megalon. This only added to the “Holy Grail” status of the movie itself, with a fresh spin for MST3K fans, who had their own appetites and reasons for craving the damned thing.

How intense is that craving? Well, I’m pretty sure (correct me if I’m wrong) the only DVD release tie-in with MST3K was in the Volume 10 collection—there was no single-disc release of the MST3K Godzilla vs. Megalon episode. Again, please, correct me if I’m wrong.

I did, however, find a site dedicated to mockups of “we wish these were on DVD” MST3K cover art creations, in the style of the Rhino releases:

I’m enough of a collector that I did snag the 2006 Australian Godzilla Showa boxed sets (showa as in the original 1950s-1970s Godzilla cycle, for the uninitiated) from the Madman Eastern Eye label; volume 2 of the showa sets did feature a lovely, complete, widescreen, and subtitled transfer of Godzilla vs. Megalon, the best I’d ever seen (including both the original version and the edited G version, English audio only, as on the single-disc Madman/Eastern Eye 2006 release).

I stupidly passed on the Heisei series box, but frankly, my heart belongs to the showa (and it didn’t include ゴジラ / Gojira / Godzilla 1985 launching point of the heisei, nor ゴジラVSビオランテ / Gojira tai Biorantea / Godzilla vs. Biollante, a deciding factor for me). ‘Nuff said.

Well, ache and envy no more, American Godzilla lovers.

The Media Blasters/Tokyo Shock DVD release is gorgeous, and just as sharp and opulent an edition as the Madman Eastern Eye DVD edition from 2006.

As of this writing, it appears there may never be a Blu-Ray edition from Media Blasters—so I recommend you snap up the DVD edition, pronto, while it’s available and while you can. There’s been a lot of online chatter about this subject, and rather than subject you to a chronology or more confusions, suffice to note that Japanese film scholar/historian Stuart Galbraith had recorded an audio commentary with fellow Toho scholar/historian/devotee Steve Ryfle for Media Blasters in 2011—a commentary track which is not on the Media Blasters Tokyo Shock DVD (too bad). So, cutting to the chase,

• here’s Stuart‘s most recent post/take on the situation, from March of this year

in which he wrote:

“…personally I still doubt a special edition Blu-ray or special edition DVD of the film is ever going to happen. I’m not sure even the barebones DVD will happen; August is a long ways off. The marketing strategy seems short-sighted. It’s one thing to expect consumers to double-dip on Goldfinger, The Wizard of Oz, or theStar Wars films, and another to expect them to buy multiple copies of Godzilla vs. Megalon released months apart. The American market for deep-catalog DVDs is all but kaput, meaning they’re going to have to rely on hardcore fans specifically seeking this title out, and their numbers are comparatively small in the broader scheme of things.

And, even among these fans, there’s already been expressions of a) “I’ll hold off and wait for a Blu-ray version”; b) “I’ll hold off and wait for the special edition”; and c) “I’ll buy the barebones DVD but skip the special edition, if that ever happens.”

In other words, instead of fans double-dipping, the consensus seems to be that fans are much more apt to buy one of three choices, but not two of three, and certainly not all three.

What a mess.”

Look, I didn’t wait to pre-order the MST3K Collection Volume 10, and I got my copy before it was pulled off the market (I pre-ordered the recent Shout! MST3K Gamera brick direct from Shout! for the same reason, and didn’t breath easy until it arrived).

So, I get nothing for this; I bought my fucking DVD copy myself, I’m not an online reviewer of a freebie. I’m not shilling for Media Blasters. I’m just a grizzled ol’ Godzilla fan who says:

• If you can afford the $12 plus shipping, I would encourage you—if you’re a Godzilla fan, I implore you—to just order it, now. Don’t wait.

I sure as hell wasn’t going to wait on a possible future release on Blu-Ray of Godzilla vs. Megalon.

I revised my pre-order on the DVD despite amazon cancellations and much online confusion over the matter.

It’s in my hands, I’ve watched it twice, it’s on my shelf—I love it. I’m happy.

What makes me happiest, though, is finally drinking in again those Leone-like widescreen vistas on the miniature landscapes, restoring a sense of size, depth, and immense scale that speaks clearly, lovingly to the kid inside me.

And for that, and more, I’m thankful Godzilla vs. Megalon is at last available in a proper legal American DVD edition. What’s not to love?

Now, how about that pitcher of beer?

PS: While many will forever celebrate

• the MST3K version of the Jet Jaguar song, and justifiably so,

I always ached to know the lyrics of the original Japanese song.

Thanks to the Media Blasters/Tokyo Shock DVD, we can at last correct the various online translations of the Jet Jaguar song. I’ve transcribed the DVD’s lyrics below, in brackets, after the most prevalent online English translation(s) of this moving anthem:

You’re a robot made by humans, but
[A man-made guardian of Earth]

Jet Jaguar, Jet Jaguar,

You did it, Jet Jaguar
[Well done, Jaguar]

Go, go to protect peace
[Go! Go! Defend our peace]

We are all surprised at the courage you show
[Display the courage that amazes us all]

Godzilla and Jaguar punch, punch, punch
Don’t cry, let’s do our best

[Let’s all fight bravely as a team!]

PPS: For those who care, here’s what was cut from G-rated theatrical and the American vhs, first DVD, and MST3K versions:

* There are no credits, save for a single credit title for Toho-Eizo Co., Ltd. (this is as it was on the theatrical Cinema Shares edition, too);
* We don’t see the truckdrivers pull a gun on Goro (it’s partially obscured by pan and scan, rather than actually edited out of the film)
* There’s a vivid shot of blood oozing from between fingers of the Seatopian spy-villain after he’s hit with the model plane in the face (this is gone from all TV, vhs, and previous DVD American edits of the film; I can’t recall if this was in the G-rate Cinema Shares theatrical edit, honestly).

All versions keep the geyser of blood exploding from Godzilla‘s shoulder when Gigan attacks, though I remember this was missing from the 1977 NBC broadcast.

PPPS: I’ve already talked a bit about The Giant Spider Invasion being on vhs and DVD—and I even recommended you buy it directly from the filmmaker, Bill Rebane,

• via Rebane‘s online store (here’s the link), and yes, Bill did sign and personalize my copy; spend the extra $4 and have him do the same for you!

* However, there’s also some rights issues connected with the DVD releases of The Giant Spider Invasion,

• specifically between Fred Olen Ray and RetroMedia, and filmmaker Bill Rebane. The original online posts I read in 2009 seem to be gone, but there’s still this Brian Albright The Dead Next Door summary from that year, which will bring you up to snuff on the legal battles and issues.

Now, I did buy the RetroMedia DVD edition, when it first came out—

• —which can still be found on amazon.com (though no longer at its original retail price, alas; used copies are still affordable, and also found on ebay at times)—

—and I’m a huge fan of both Fred Olen Ray and RetroMedia (I purchased just about every title they put out), so I give my full attention to Fred‘s account of this debacle,

• and suggest you give Fred‘s updates a read, too.

But, hell, I’m a Bill Rebane fan, too. I also want to support Bill in his autumn years.

So I now own both editions of The Giant Spider Invasion, each of which boasts its own wonderful extras.

* The RetroMedia is the original theatrical version I savored at the Bijou Theater, and a full-color pint-sized reprint booklet of that terrific Russ Manning 4-page comic herald;

* Bill Rebane‘s “director’s edition” basically reorients some material from a bit later in the film into a pre-title/credits sequence, but it does offer a slightly brighter full-frame transfer and a second disc of extras that includes a lot of interview and festival footage, a (filmed from a screen) “transfer” of the 28 minute 8mm cut-down version of the film (which plays surprisingly well, narratively).

So—your move.

* Among those Rebane-edition extras is some frustrating video footage shot in the Wisconsin woods of what’s left of the giant spider full-sized “animatronic” assembly frame—frustrating, I note, because you never really get a proper look at that structure!

Thankfully, a kind, caring Facebook friend shared these photos, and with the explicit permission of the photographer, I can share them with you here and now:

Rob Mattison is the Facebook amigo, and he captioned this one: “My buddy Rick Wold with actor Bill Dexter at the site of the Giant Spiders resting place in Gleason WI.”

Both photographs ©2012 Rick Wold, all rights reserved; posted with permission; please, LINK ONLY, do not repost these photos!

They’ve obviously rescued the spider assembly frame from its former destitution in the woods, and it’s great to see what’s left of it now. Most of the legs have been removed over the years, from the look of it, and the DVD bonus disc from Rebane shows the avid fan who did the interview videos removing the springs from the assembly.

Thanks, Rick and Rob, for sharing these photos and allowing them to be shared on Myrant!
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An Addendum, compliments of fellow daikaiju-eiga scholar/devotee Lee Sparks:

Lee wrote me on Facebook, saying:

“Very fun article. There was another ‘legal’ DVD release of GVM, from Alpha Video (aka Oldies.com). As their entire catalog is public domain films, I am sure they assumed the same about GVM. This was yet another copy of the same battered old usual print. I’ve never heard of the Passion release!”

Lee shared links to these images with me of the Alpha DVD cover art:

Lee also added,

“Other things cut from the film (that are restored to the new DVD) are the nudie pics inside the truck driver’s cab (along with helpful exposition about just WTF they are doing), the little kid being kidnapped, the truck hijacker being thrown from the cab and tumbling down the hillside, and the final bad guy being crushed by a flying boulder kicked up during the last fracas….

Also: …When the hero (in the orange jacket) escapes from being tied up in his lab, a brutal fight occurs with the Seatopian. In the G version, he swings on the circular staircase and suddenly after the jumpcut the bad guy is lying on the floor. In the longer version, there are fisticuffs (and tellingly, wrestling moves including a “thigh crush” of the guy’s neck) resulting in the villain having his head bashed on the floor 3 times! Shortly after, the other hero and the boy are seen more obviously and thoroughly plotting the “assault” on the lab with the model plane, as well as several shots of the Seatopian’s bloodied face and eyes after he is overcome.”

Thanks, Lee, and I’ve posted these FB comments here with Lee‘s permission; I wanted to be sure it was in the body of (rather than comments to) this serialized essay.

___________

Thus Endeth the Lesson.