All Monsters Attack

All Monsters Attack (1969)
Toho Studios
Director: Honda Ishirō, Nakano Teruyoshi (special effects in close collaboration with Honda)
Also known as: Godzilla’s Revenge (the American title, although it sounds more like a British euphemism relating to spicy food).


In December 1969, Toho made their bid to win Godzilla’s audiences back from television to cinema, or at least to present a viable alternative form of entertainment for children who could now get their fix of hyperactive kaiju action every week for free at home. Tokusatsu movies released to theatres in the usual way just couldn’t hold their own at the box office any more. The last one Toho sent out to fend for itself, in July, was the execrable Latitude Zero (1969), based on an American pulp radio serial and notable for being filmed entirely in English and guest starring Cesar “The Joker” Romero as the villain. I would suggest that this item was never going to turn Toho’s fortunes around, but in any event it clearly didn’t do much to restore the studio’s confidence in kaiju eiga.

Their solution was the Toho Champion Festival: a half-day event, usually on a Saturday, run as many as three times a year at its peak. (Spoiler alert: its peak lasted about four years. From 1975 to 1978 it ran only once a year, in March, and then, to borrow a phrase from Edgar Allan Poe, television held illimitable dominion over all.) For the price of admission, parents could leave their kids at one of Toho’s theatre outlets and get some time to themselves, and the kids could take in multiple features with a total runtime of a bit less than four hours. The attractions were a mix of old tokusatsu edited down to an hour and a quarter (less talk, more action!), cinematic cuts of TV episodes, animated features and shorts and the debut releases of the last six Shōwa series Godzilla films.

Toho copied this format from Toei Company’s successful Manga Festival (dedicated, despite the name, to live action as well as anime), which had been running since 1964. At least Toho had the luxury of being able to do this, unlike the Daiei Motion Picture Company which would have been too far in the red by the end of 1969 to try anything similar on Gamera’s behalf. The Champion Festival’s most lasting and infamous legacy is that those cutdown reissues of Toho’s earlier films were achieved by butchering the original film negatives, causing them severe damage.

All Monsters Attack, the first Godzilla movie to debut in this setting, leans heavily into the situation. It isn’t a film about Godzilla, but a film about an ordinary, contemporary child who reflects the intended audience, who’s watched the recent Godzilla movies and uses them as a moral compass in his parents’ absence. Perhaps some of those festival attendees were themselves “latchkey kids”, passing some time at the cinema while their parents were out working extra hours. The film has a proportional content of recycled footage that would make even Gamera vs Viras (1968) blush, but this is put into good service as the clay out of which Ichirō’s dreams are formed. Like many of the young viewers, I’m sure, Ichirō has seen those earlier movies and, in the days before home media, has relived the action scenes in his head, perhaps misremembering them or mixing them up, even projecting himself into them. The replayed scenes even anticipate the Champion Festival’s strategy of filling time between new material with reissues of older films. (Edited versions of Ebirah and Son of Godzilla, the two features most heavily referenced in All Monsters Attack, would eventually headline the July 1972 and July 1973 festivals respectively.)

This isn’t a trick Toho could play more than once, but once you’ve stepped into the Land of (Meta)Fiction, it’s not that easy to step back out again. Although subsequent movies will return to the familiar model of telling stories about Godzilla, I think the question of who’s telling those stories will remain. I mentioned while discussing Destroy All Monsters that the concept of “Kaiju Land” felt like a toybox, and this movie’s Monster Island dreamscape only reinforces that. Bear that in mind when Monster Island reappears “for real” in Godzilla vs Gigan (1972) and Godzilla vs Megalon (1973).

The actual message of the film is a bit of a mixed bag. Ichirō is urged to stand up for himself and fight his own battles, and sure, that’s all well and good, although it fundamentally involves him punching the crap out of Gabara and biting his arm, then adopting his gang. It also involves Ichirō causing a painter’s slapstick “accident” and leaving his father to carry the can for him. He’s become more independent, but he’s also become something of a menace. It’s not uncommon for children to be portrayed as little tearaways in kaiju eiga – see especially the Gamera movies – but I’m not sure whether this is meant as a release of pressure or incitement for the child viewers in a society as famously polite and deferential as Japan’s.

On a broader scale, is it meant to needle the kids’ parents? Is this message of defending oneself through free self-expression, and potentially through aggressive direct action, intended to map onto Japanese society or even onto Japan as a player on the global stage? America had been urging Japan to stand up and fight its own battles for some time now, encouraging it to write its own constitution following their nominal withdrawal and rearm itself. Japan was understandably reluctant to do this, given America’s prior actions against them. All Monsters Attack does seem to hint that Japanese society ought to embrace change, however troubling and occasionally violent the consequences might be.

To start with, it looks like it might offer a critique of absentee parenting, an inevitable consequence of the economic impact of Japan’s post-war rebuild. Ichirō’s father says early on that he worries he’s not spending enough time with his son, and when Ichirō’s mother says in her final scene that she’ll give up working late shifts at the office, it feels like a predictable follow-on from what’s gone before. Yet Ichirō rejects that and repeats the argument his neighbour Shinpei used earlier in the film, that those extra shifts are necessary to support the family financially. He demonstrates his maturity and independence by accepting the new status quo – which the rest of the film has presented as an undesirable set of conditions that leaves Ichirō neglected, bored and in danger – in place of the older social standard we might have expected from this film, that of a stay-at-home mother raising her child. From a 21st-century perspective, we might consider this bit of scriptwriting progressive. What Ichirō doesn’t have – but Minilla does, as seen in Son of Godzilla – is a pushy parent driving him to study and take his own place on the treadmill. He does now have his own gang, though. The kids are all right, the film seems to say, but I’m not sure how sincerely it says it.

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