Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. With the winds of winter approaching, this week saw me putting the finishing touches on my players’ Christmas DnD adventure, which will be the third installment in our mostly annual holiday tradition. These quests have traditionally been written by one of my housemates as a break in the formal narrative action, with the first installment essentially positing Santa Claus as a Futurama-style figure of terror, and the second taking The Santa Clause’s premise in a more lycanthropy-adjacent direction. This third adventure will involve us doing a Diehard scenario with Santa as Hans Gruber, a collaboration where I open the quest as dungeon master, only for the action to be “invaded” by Santa in an active DM handoff. I’m eager to see how it all plays out, and will surely inform you folks in the aftermath, but for now, let’s burn down a fresh week in films!
The next thundering step on our Godzilla journey was Godzilla vs Gigan, a ‘72 feature reuniting us with Ebirah/Son of Godzilla director Jun Fukuda. In this adventure, cockroach-like aliens are planning to colonize the earth by exploiting the power of two space monsters, the scythe-armed Gigan and notorious King Gidorah. Standing in their way are a motley collection of humans headed by a luckless cartoonist, as well as our reliable stalwarts Godzilla and Anguirus.
If I were to describe Godzilla vs Gigan in one word, it would probably be “safe.” After the disappointing box office returns of the (exceptional, underappreciated) Godzilla vs Hedorah, producer Tomoyuki Tanaka decided to go back to basics, returning a reliable director, reliable villain, and reliable script. As a result, Godzilla vs Gigan basically plays as a retread of Invasion of the Astro-Monster, integrating a touch more of Fukuda’s human-side adventure drama, but otherwise replaying the hits against Godzilla’s most beloved adversary.
Godzilla vs Gigan might have felt like a triumphant return to form at release, shifting from experimental digressions like Hedorah or All Monsters Attack back to the model that made Godzilla an institution. But as a new fan watching the evolution of the franchise straight through, it simply feels tired; a series of concessions made to ensure the franchise’s continuity, not a compelling new entry in its own right. Nonetheless, This Too is Godzilla – for as watching through these films has taught me, Godzilla’s cultural ubiquity never felt inevitable at the time it was being forged, and the franchise has frequently had to duck, swerve, or outright hibernate for a while in order to maintain its stamina and saleability. If that necessitates a film that repeats that delightful cut of Anguirus angrily hanging off a flying King Ghidorah’s tail, so be it.
Branching out further in my exploration of ‘80s adventure features, I next screened Jaka Sembung (or “The Warrior”), an ‘81 Indonesian historical fantasy directed by Sisworo Gautama, and starring Barry Prima as the titular hero. Defending his home against the Dutch colonial army, Prima will face off with soldiers, superpowered warriors, and even some goddamn magicians, suffering outrageous tortures so that his people might be free.
I’d classify Jaka Sembung as falling somewhere between Roger Corman’s sword and sorcery features and the Shaw Brothers’ martial arts films, featuring both the fantastical magicks of the former and the solid physical fundamentals of the latter. Prima succeeds as both long-suffering leading man and talented martial artist, and the film’s flourishes of squelchy practical effects and fantastical sorcery ensure there’s a surprise around every corner. The performances are hit-or-miss and the costuming isn’t exactly convincing, but such limitations come with the territory when it comes to the sword and sorcery heyday; far more important is offering me something I haven’t seen before, and Jaka Sembung’s mix of grim history and fantastical drama certainly manages that.
We then joined up with Godzilla again for a stomp through Godzilla vs Megalon. Again directed by the reliable Jun Fukuda, this one sees humanity once again up to its nuclear testing shenanigans, this time disrupting the subterranean civilization of Seatopia in the process. Understandably perturbed, the Seatopians retaliate by releasing Megalon, their beetle-like god, as well as stealing the robot Jet Jaguar to guide it. Thus Godzilla is once again forced into action, facing off with creatures from the depths and stars alike in defense of his fragile planet.
We’re still in the lean Godzilla days at this point, of abridged shooting schedules and barely-cobbled scripts and copious cribbing from previous films. Godzilla vs Megalon has one of the thinnest plots of the franchise so far, basically just another retread of Invasion of the Astro-Monster, and is noteworthy mostly for the unlikely friendship that develops between Godzilla and Ultraman ripoff Jet Jaguar. Seeing Jet Jaguar graciously clap hands with Godzilla like he’s greeting a visiting dignitary is delightful; as far as Godzilla’s unabashed pro wrestling-style films are concerned, this teamup is a warm and welcome one.
Last up for the week was Clown, a 2014 horror feature based on a fake trailer by director Jon Watts that was picked up for full film production by Eli Roth. Andy Powers stars as Kent McCoy, a real estate agent who puts on a mysterious old clown costume for his son’s birthday party, and subsequently discovers he can’t take it off. Instead, his body begins to undergo a mysterious transformation, as the Icelandic demon that predated our modern big shoes-and-rubber nose conception starts to take over his body.
Clown does indeed feel like a trailer-length gag extended to a full film’s length, but it still offers a number of reasons to recommend itself. Its strongest feature is undoubtedly the delightfully twisted job the film’s visual effects team managed for Kent’s makeup, which offers a fine echo of the grotesque transformations and gooey physicality of An American Werewolf in London.
“Clown” really could just mean “werewolf” as far as this film is concerned – beyond the initial absurdity of being trapped in a clown costume, all the narrative beats match the evolving tension of your classic werewolf drama, meaning the film at least has a reliable template to work from. And we’ve even got Peter Stormare here as the requisite Clown Survivor, offering his signature blend of slurring gravitas to this improbable escapade. Clown is inessential on the whole, and takes too long to get where it’s going, but is otherwise a fair enough spin on lycanthrope convention.
