Dogora! Space Amoeba! Non-Godzilla Toho Kaiju Attack!
Title: Dogora
Japanese Title: Uchu daikaiju dogora
AKA: Dogora The Space Monster
Director: Ishiro Honda
Actors: Yosuke Natsuki, Yoko Fujiyama, Robert Dunham/Dan Yuma
Year Released: 1964
Genre: Kaiju
See Also: Gojira, Daimajin Trilogy
Otaku Alert: Special effects genius Eiji Tsubaraya apparently recycled the Dogora jellyfish monster for his Ultraman TV series.
Title: Space Amoeba
Japanese Title: Gezora, Ganime, Kameba! Kessen! Nankai no daikaiju
AKA: Yog: Monster From Space
Director: Ishiro Honda
Actors: Akira Kubo, Atsuko Takahashi, Yukiko Kobayashi
Year Released: 1970
Genre: Kaiju
See Also: The Mysterians, Matango
Otaku Alert: Space Amoeba was the last pairing of Ishiro Honda with composer Akira Ifukube.
What's a kaiju film without a marquee monster like Godzilla or Gamera? Probably a failure. Take a look at Toho's impressive number of kaiju films released in the '50s, '60s and '70s, and most are Godzilla vehicles. Those that aimed for kaiju bigtime but refused to call in the big guy—namely the little-known Dogora and Space Amoeba—usually fell flat largely because of a reliance on actual human actors rather than charismatic rubber suit stars.
Not for lack of trying. In 1964, Toho released Dogora, an odd kaiju/diamond heist hybrid directed by Godzilla helmsman Ishiro Honda and scored by franchise regular Akira Ikufube. With original Godzilla effects wizard Eiji Tsubaraya on board as well, how could things go wrong? How, indeed. Check back to the previous paragraph about a lack of charismatic kaiju star and you'll find your answer. A kaiju film that relies on its human actors to carry the proceedings is like a horse race without horses: as novel as a bunch of jockeys running around a dirt track is, it can't compare to the real thing.
Diamonds are being stolen all over the earth. In Japan, a crew of diamond thieves are suspected as the main culprits, and while they're definitely hard at work trying to nab something expensive, the real culprit is a glowing blob from outer space, a fugitive from an episode of The Outer Limits that eventually turns into Eiji Tsubaraya's single most beautiful kaiju ever: a giant, hovering jellyfish that floats amidst a psychedelic cloud of truly breathtaking, Eastmancolor-infused hues. Unfortunately for the film (and, by extension, us), Honda keeps the film focused on the diamond thieves and the police out to stop them. Running around is also a gaijin (Dan Yuma, or Robert Dunham, depending on which IMDB entry you're looking at) who, in stark contrast to every other Japanese film ever made, can not only speak Japanese but act as well. Go, white guy!
Had Dogora been a real kaiju film instead of a vaguely comedic heist film with grand kaiju intentions, had Toho ponied up for a bigger budget and given Eiji's masterpiece kaiju more screen time, had the film been an entirely different film, well, things would have been different. As it stands, Dogora is more curiosity than quality, more oddity than unmissable.
Japan is an island nation. File that one under "Duh," right? Except: think about it. With few exceptions, all of Japan's invaders have come from the sea. Godzilla—check. Dogora—check (he may have come from the sky but he's still a giant jellyfish). The three overgrown sushi-menu-items that are the beasts of Space Amoeba—check. I mean, come on. When America projects its atomic-era fear onto zoology, it enlarges spiders, ants, and, um, bald guys. But Japan? Squid. Lobster. And from the pet store around the corner, turtle. Maybe to you and me that's not the scariest list of gargantuan beasties ever compiled, but ask the Japanese kid who had to eat ika (squid) at dinner in pleasant company without retching out loud and I'm sure you'll get a very different story.
So: a space probe has crashed to earth, impregnated with the titular space amoeba, which proceeds to enlarge—in episodic succession—the aforementioned tide pool specimens around a south seas island. Some boring guys poke around the island, which is seemingly populated by Japanese people painted brown, and then the monsters fight and then it's over. Yeah, thanks.
By 1970, the kaiju boom that Ultraman and Destroy All Monsters created was pretty much over, but really, did the final pairing of Ishiro Honda and Akira Ifukube have to be this lackluster? Let's face it: Gezora, Ganime, and Kameba (the names of the squid, crab, and turtle, respectively) are nothing but throwaway Godzilla foes, cast adrift in a movie of their own. Without our beloved King Lizard to throw them around, who is there to root for? The humans? Not likely. They're painted brown in a terrible approximation of ethnicity. (I have to say, it's nice to see that America isn't the only country to engage in false ethnic representation.)
I think you know how I feel about Space Amoeba, so before I wrap this up, I'd like to get this off my chest: why is Ishiro Honda so underappreciated? Yes, he made Godzilla movies, but is that a reason to cast him aside when talking about the giants of Japanese film? Akira Kurosawa obviously thought enough of Honda to hire him as assistant director on most of his later films, like Ran and Kagemusha. Some might even say he directed significant portions of Dreams, when the ailing Kurosawa could not. All I'm saying is, let's give the man his due. Gojira stands alongside Tokyo Story and Rashomon as a classic of 1950s Japanese cinema. Watch all three back to back. The one sure to make you cry is Gojira.
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