GODZILLA-THON #23 - Godzilla 2000: Millennium (1999)

After a "lengthy" absence of a whopping four years, Godzilla was set to be revived by Toho in an effort to capitalize renewed interest in seeing the "real" Godzilla.

Oh, yea, I guess I should mention this was released immediately following America's inaugural, disastrous attempt at making a Godzilla picture. Director Roland Emmerich's film was a critical disaster on every possible level. Despite the fact that it somehow managed to turn a tidy profit, the universal hatred projected towards Godzilla (1998) cemented the decision that no sequel plans would move forward. Plans had been drawn up for a trilogy of films, the latter two of which would never come to fruition. And if you've ever read the synopsis for the proposed Godzilla 2, be SO THANKFUL it never happened.

So, seizing the opportunity to capitalize on fans' rabid enthusiasm to see the real Godzilla, and not some big iguana imposter, Toho began to develop what would be the first of the Millennium series of films.  

Let me get this out of the way first: I am not a very big fan of the Millennium series. For me, much of the charm & fun found in the series died with longtime producer Tomoyuki Tanaka. I know not every single film under his guidance turned out to be a rousing success critically or commercially, but his lordship over every facet of the films imbued them with a quality that can't be summed up in words. The essence of what made his previous 22 films so revered has been lost to a new generation of filmmakers. And I get that. These things happen all the time. It still doesn't change the fact that there is a missing element to the Millennium films that I hope future series may be able to get back.

This time around, Godzilla isn't given much of an origin. In fact, I don't think he's given one at all. Japan considers him to be a literal force of nature; an unstoppable creature they're just going to have to deal with. The Godzilla Prediction Network (GPN, basically just two guys and a little girl operating out of a ramshackle apt.) are studying Godzilla in order to better understand how he operates. This entry almost plays out like another inaugural solo outing, with the Japanese Crisis Control Center finding an ancient UFO deep underwater that reacts to changes in light, which appears to be its main power source. Godzilla arrives on the scene (in spectacular fashion) and does battle with this extremely stereotypical saucer. The fight drives Godzilla back under the sea, and the UFO flies around town a bit before landing atop Tokyo's Opera City Tower. The CCI notes that it's siphoning all of Tokyo's data out of the tower. Godzilla returns to once again shoot the UFO with fire and hope it blows up, but this time the aliens absorb some of Godzilla's own DNA (not again...) to create Orga. Orga looks like a rock with two claws. Despite this, I still think he's a pretty cool new monster for the series. Anyway, he's only in the move for around 11 minutes before Godzilla absolutely decimates him.

It's hard to believe that this film was made only four years after Godzilla vs. Destoroyah (1995), yet it has such a different feel in every way. Again, I mostly chalk this up to Tanaka's absence. Another reason for the different feel has to do with the advent of CGI technology, something I'm sure Tanaka was trying to resist. Many shots are clearly using CGI to compose environments for Godzilla to stomp around. The alien UFO is entirely computer-generated, and it also looks so laughably bad. It's just a big silver bean, floating through the city. Godzilla is even brought to fully animated life via CGI in a couple of shots, a first for the series (not counting his meltdown last time around) and something that would only be used more frequently in further films. There is still plenty of miniature work to be seen, so don't worry that it's all been replaced just yet. Godzilla gets plenty of tangible stuff to smash.

As per usual, a new series means a new Godzilla. Millennium Godzilla, called the MireGoji for this entry, is a radical departure from the Kawakita era suits, and even further removed from the Showa depictions. Designed by Shinichi Wakasa, nearly every facet of Godzilla's design has been overhauled. Most obvious are the new spines; they're enormous. Jagged and twisted, these new spines are nearly 100% larger than any previously seen and border on parody they're so outrageous. But they work. The incredible scale given to them does make Godzilla look even more fearsome. He'll need that extra edge since his size has been greatly reduced from the 100m he enjoyed during the Heisei era. Millennium Goji is only around 50m tall, putting him in line with most of the Showa era height scales. Godzilla's scales are very prominent, looking more sculpted than organic. And his teeth look terrible, with every other other tooth getting the incisor treatment, making him look like a snaggletoothed beast. And he's green! For the first time ever, Godzilla was painted a darker shade of green. People have said he's green for years, all because of the original film's poster, and now he finally is green. It's a far cry from the iconic look he enjoyed during the Heisei series. Godzilla only repped this suit for two entries (this film and the next) before undergoing another drastic makeover for GMK.

I think most fans would agree they got his atomic breath done right. Godzilla's spines light up to a flaming gold color before flames start to appear in his opening mouth, then a ferocious blast surges forward to positively annihilate anything in its path. The effect is a tad on the overkill side, but that also seems to be what this new Godzilla is all about.

It wouldn't be an official Godzilla rebirth if an American studio didn't come in and chop up the film, right? After Sony's 1998 film failed to excite audiences, they decided to try marketing the real deal. The film was re-edited to run seven minutes shorter than the Japanese cut, with most alterations being made to tighten up the pace. No major footage of G was excised. The studio spent around $10-12 million dollars promoting the thing, and it ultimately earned around that much back at the domestic box office. Not a smash by any means, though no Godzilla film has ever been a blockbuster. Hopefully, all of that changes with the upcoming 2014 film.

The score blows. Sorry if you like it. Takayuki Hattori, who previously handled scoring for Godzilla vs. SpaceGodzilla (1994), is back. And so are the lame, video game-level themes he loves to employ. A few of Akira Ifukube's classic themes are thrown in for good measure, but the majority of the track is forgettable background noise. Bummer.

Don't think it gets better from here, because Godzilla vs. Megaguirus is up next and that, if I recall, is the worst film of the Millennium series and possible of the entire series overall.  

Lake Placid (1999)

I know it can't be true, but sometimes I feel like I'm the only person who loves Lake Placid. I never hear anyone talk about it. There are never any revival screenings showing anywhere. Most people I mention it to either haven't seen it or didn't like it. I suppose part of my warm, fuzzy feelings could stem from the fact that this was the last (and possibly only) film I saw with my now-deceased grandma. Not trying to get all heavy here, but I'm sure most can relate to a personal reflection elevating the quality of a film in their own mind. Me, my grandma, and my brother watched it during the Summer of 1999 in Hawaii, in a tiny, decaying movie theater on the island of Kauai. I don't recall how well my grandma liked it, but this was a woman who considered Rambo: First Blood Part II to be one of her favorite films of all-time, so a good bit of violence and humor was likely right up her alley. Regardless, I've been a fan since that day and I hope that in years to come it garners a bit more love. The only home video release currently available is a decade-old DVD that could look worlds better (although at least it is anamorphic) with a short featurette for a bonus feature. And it deserves better.

Lake Placid, despite what some may consider to be a ridiculous premise, managed to attract a wealth of talent to its cast & crew. The film was written by David E. Kelley, the guy responsible for Ally McBeal. I only caught a few bits of an episode here and there, but I do know it was generally lauded for its sharp writing and wit, both of which are on display here. Horror fans should know the film's director, Steve Miner. You know, the guy responsible for Friday the 13th Part 2 and 3-D, House, Warlock, and Halloween: H20. That pedigree alone would've generate interest from me on any project he was involved with at the time, although I can't say the same now since he hasn't done anything worth watching since this film. The cast features a small ensemble of actors who are adept at playing personalities that clash just as well as they can come together when required - Brendan Gleeson, Bill Pullman, Bridget Fonda, Oliver Platt, and Betty White. All dependable, seasoned actors who run wild with Kelley's acerbic, shrewd dialogue.

And let's not forget the film's biggest star: a 30-foot crocodile designed by the most magnificent man to get into creature design - Stan Winston. Oh, fuck, do I ever miss that guy. Are you a film fan who laments the continual homogenization of on-screen beasts? Blame cancer, because if it hadn't claimed Stan's life all too soon then we'd likely be enjoying his work to this day. We also wouldn't have to suffer through film after film featuring Neville Page's slightly modified designs. Seriously, if you've seen Cloverfield, Star Trek '09, Super 8, or Prometheus you know exactly what I'm talking about. He seems to specialize in amorphous blobs that have few defining features and are almost wholly forgettable as soon as the credits start rolling. Winston created creatures that have defined generations and will ultimately stand the test of time as the some of the best work FX can offer.

 
There has got to be good character interaction in a monster-running-amok film, otherwise it can only be as good as the FX scenes horror fans are waiting for.That's when you get a film like Alligator, starring Robert Forster. Now, don't get me wrong on this because I friggin' love that movie, but how much can you recall outside of the wedding massacre and that scene where the eponymous beast bursts up out of the sewer? Exactly. Other than Forster, I don't even remember who else is in the film. Kelley's script for Placid builds up the humor right from the start, with Gleeson's character exchanging barbs with a beaver tagger (they pay people do to that?). Then Fonda's fish-out-of-water female, Kelly Scott, is thrown into the mix to complain about the wilderness and shriek when moose heads go flying. Pullman's straight man ranger is here to provide logic and as manly a presence as he can muster. Then, finally, Oliver Platt crashes the party as a rich loudmouth with expensive toys and a devotion to his craft as a crocodile expert. He's also the most brash and sarcastic member of the cast, often belittling Gleeson with obtuse, caustic remarks that go over his head. Are these people we care about? To some degree, sure. But mainly they're just types, and that's perfectly fine because they each excel in that role enough to elevate it above a one-note character.

Is there gore? You betcha! Some dude gets half his body chewed off in the opening, along with decapitations, a severed toe, and a fucking badass Bear vs. Croc attack that made my girlfriend squeal with equal parts horror and delight. It isn't gory like some of Steve Miner's '80s horror films, but there's a healthy enough amount to remind people this is still a movie about a large apex predator that rips things to pieces before eating them. Nothing here is gratuitous, so any bloody bits that appear on-screen are earned and not there for the sake of grossing out the audience. Hell, when a guy's toe is found, chewed up on the lake shore, Gleeson says he remembers the man being "taller" when asked if it's the missing beaver tagger. There's enough gallows humor to keep things from getting too heavy, despite the ever-present threat of an ancient reptile eating everything and everyone in camp.

The big beast itself looks rightfully imposing. Winston not only gave this crocodile a fearsome scale, but it looks extremely lifelike. The film does still utilize CGI for moments when a lot of movement, such as during an attack, is required. The replicas that Winston and his team constructed are mainly used for shots of the crocodile floating on the water's surface, or those fleeting glimpses when a tail or a bit of underbelly are shown. The most impressive moments for Winston's work come when Platt's character (foolishly) lands his copter above his watery lair. There's an attack scene where a very large animatronic croc was employed, the results of which look pretty goddamn spectacular for a hulking construction of metal and electronics. It moves a lot like Bruce does in Jaws, and while that kind of effects work is considered dated by some, I happen to think it's at the pinnacle of what artists can achieve. Giving life to inanimate objects and making them scary is a tall order, one which Winston always nailed.

Lake Placid would be a crowd-pleaser if it got some love by receiving a revival screening. The cast nails the tone Kelley's script aimed for, and while it may be mostly devoid of scares (save for one nice surprise at the end) there's enough of a tense atmosphere to satisfy those looking for more than a creature comedy. I'd love to see it get the royal treatment on Blu-ray, but for now all we've got is an aging DVD. Of course, there are always streaming options but I tend to prefer a physical product for my movies. Many uninitiated viewers might be tempted to dismiss this film thanks to the recent sequels (three of them at last count!) that were all D.O.A. Don't, because while it might not be an unheralded classic yearning for a larger audience it's absolutely worth it for all of the reasons illustrated above.