Last weekend, my wife and I went to Iowa to visit a few friends. The Mrs. is a staff member at Anime Iowa, a yearly anime convention, and there was a staff meeting on Saturday she attended. Mostly, though, we were there to see our friend, Courtney, play in her first roller derby bout. She did good (I'll probably talk about my burgeoning interest in the sport some other time). While she was partying with her team, we were hanging out with her fiancee, Adam, in the hotel pool. Before I toweled off and headed back to the room, Adam mentioned that he had submitted for a daikaiju panel at Anime Iowa and asked if I would be interested in being on the panel. First off, even if he didn't invite me to join him, I still would have attended. Second, while I may not be the most knowledgeable person on the subject, I do have a passion for giant monster battles with plenty of collateral damage. Naturally, I said yes, but thought to myself, "I need to really do my homework on this." If there's one thing I need to prepare myself for at a convention panel, it's the inevitability of some snarky know-it-all, in the audience, dominating the conversation by correcting everything everyone says. That's something that needs to be kept under control. Since knowledge is power, forewarned is forearmed.
So, I'm going through all my DVDs and doing some research online, going back to all the websites I peruse for all things kaiju, and taking you on a giant, radioactive ride. Of course, I've posted about giant monsters on the Ablogcalypse, but, despite the violence and wanton destruction that this sub-genre entails, I think Infinite Worlds is a more suitable home.
For those of you who don't know much about kaiju (I'm sure everyone's seen a few giant monster movies, but not everyone knows everything about it), I'll give you a bit of a primer on the subject. There is a genre of media in Japan called tokusatsu, which means "special effects," as these were live action films and television shows that heavily relied on scaled models, pyrotechnics, and men in rubber costumes as well as other special effects. Generally, tokusatsu focused on sci-fi, fantasy, and supernatural horror and, in the early days, were very similar to American movies such as King Kong, The Day the Earth Stood Still, and Plan 9 From Outer Space. This genre also includes Japanese super hero shows, such as Kamen Rider, Ultraman, and many of the shows that would be transported to the US as the Power Rangers series (most of these, you will notice, also mixes kaiju with their superhero action).
Of course, the most popular sub-genre in tokusatsu is kaiju, which heralded the birth of tokusatsu with the release of Toho's 1954 film, Gojira (Godzilla). The movie became such a huge hit, that it spawned a dynasty that has lasted over half a century; producing numerous sequels, spin-offs, and copycats. The word kaiju means "strange monster," which doesn't, necessarily, mean it's a giant monster. Daikaiju, "giant monster," is a more literal term, but kaiju is almost universally accepted to describe these radioactive titans.
Unlike King Kong, who was a naturally big ape in an island of primordial giants, a lot of kaiju tend to be radioactive mutations of animals that grew to monstrous size, the creations of ancient civilizations or alien invaders, or mystical guardians that rose from their slumber to heed the call for help. While King Kong mostly fought dinosaurs and, in the fateful ending, a squadron of bi-planes, kaiju like to beat the crap out of the JDF (Japanese Defense Force) and each other in brutal, destructive battles. A lot of times, kaiju die, only to return in another movie. Only the original Gojira and a few other movies, including the original Gamera, featured only one kaiju. Usually, the more kaiju you put in a movie, the better (from what I hear, Destroy All Monsters is a battle royale of epic proportions).
However, I do feel that some kaiju movies do try to convey a similar message to King Kong, just in a different way. In King Kong, mankind was meddling with one of the last great wonders left on Earth. They made Kong a captive in a world that he cannot survive in. By keeping Kong in their grasp, the magnificently savage beast dies and the promise of adventure in an ancient lost world dies with him.
With Gojira, it is something else that mankind is meddling with, as the 1950's were the dawn of the atomic age. It was a cautionary tale of trying to harness destructive powers that mankind may not be able to contain (something that Japan was the only nation to completely witness firsthand at the end of World War II). Godzilla is not a ferocious, but fragile beast that cannot survive in our world. To the contrary, it is humanity who cannot survive in Godzilla's world. It becomes that mankind has opened Pandora's Box and must deal with the impending age of destructive giants. Humans must either subdue or placate the titanic reptile in order to survive.
To posit one of my theories, Godzilla and other kaiju have become post-WWII kami. As Shinto beliefs have dwindled since America crushed the notion of a divine emperor in the wake of the war, Japan had to find a new medium to convey the powerful and aloof personifications of nature that have been an integral part of Japanese culture throughout their recorded history. Kaiju rose to fill that void, not only as "gods" of primordial nature, but as vengeful spirits, seeking to punish humanity for straying from their intended path - a punishment that humans are foolish enough to lash out against.
This is just the tip of the iceberg, though. Aliens have threatened the planet with slavery and destruction, which Godzilla, along with other kaiju, such as Mothra, have come to Earth's defense. Kaiju is more than just the struggles of giant beasts played by men in rubber suits. It's an ongoing war to prove who is master of Earth. Humans may use and abuse the Earth, aliens may bring violence and devastation to conquer it, but the planet belongs to the kaiju, and they are not pleased.
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