Atragon (1963)

directed by Ishirō Honda

Japan

95 minutes

5 stars out of 5

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Alright. I'm finally reviewing Atragon. I've seen this movie more times by far than anything else (except for maybe Banshee Chapter and the original Jurassic Park) but I've never managed to review it because every time I watch it I seem to get a bit distracted.

Upon my latest rewatch, I've come to realize this is my favorite movie of all time. I've always been the kind of person who doesn't have a single favorite movie because there's so many, how can you ask me to pick just one? But I'm pretty confident now that it's this one. And not only that, this is also the movie I would pick if somebody asked me to explain why I love tokusatsu. It's a perfect example of the use of incredibly detailed miniatures and practical effects to execute a story that is also extremely well-written and resonant, a balance that not every tokusatsu film achieves. I think this movie is basically flawless in every way. It's something that feels like it accomplished 100% of what it set out to do.

I also want to quickly say that one of the only times I've ever gotten really mad at another film reviewer was when I saw this film referred to as "jingoistic". I just don't know how far in the sand your head must be to watch this entire thing and not get a strong anti-war message from it. I'm not sure if maybe the English dub casts it in a different light; the extent of my experience with the dub is accidentally renting it on DVD, going "aw man, this is a dub" and returning it. But the film itself is possibly Honda's most explicit anti-war statement aside from Farewell Rabaul (and Godzilla, of course).

The initial setup of the film is almost reminiscent of Toho's hardboiled crime flicks of the late 1950s until it begins taking a different tack with the slow reveal of multiple factions within society working in opposition to a peacetime Japan. The central conflict of the film is between the undersea empire of Mu, sunk 12,000 years ago and now returning to reclaim their "colonies" - the rest of the Earth - and humanity, but this also contains a conflict between a group of former military personnel holed up on an island after the Pacific War, refusing to accept the new constitution and disarmament of Japan. The leader of this group, Admiral Jinguji, has been secretly building a massive multi-terrain warship (the Gōtengō, or "Roaring Heaven") unlike anything any country has ever seen, and wants to keep it solely for Japan - Imperial Japan - when it becomes militarily active again. As the threat from Mu becomes greater, Jinguji's old commanding officer as well as his daughter attempt to convince him to let the Gōtengō be used for the good of the whole world.

Jinguji embodies Honda's critique of nationalism, and the role is possibly Jun Tazaki's best. In retreating to his island, Jinguji separated himself from his daughter Makoto, a toddler at the time, and when the two finally reunite, Makoto is horrified to find her father so dedicated to his ideology that he refuses to accept reality and shuns the rest of the world. One of the others who come to the island refers to Jinguji as a "ghost wearing rusty armor called patriotism". The specific word used here that gets translated as "ghost" is "bōrei", and I want to take a minute to talk about that because there are a lot of different concepts within Japanese culture that are translated en masse as "ghost". "Bōrei" is a term that is synonymous with other, more common ghost words, but is a little more antiquated and Gothic, and refers to a departed or ruined spirit that has left their physical form. It has literary overtones as well. Referring to Jinguji as a ghost is itself a very evocative turn of phrase, but I wanted to mention the term originally used because in its original language there would have to have been thought behind what kind of spirit, specifically, to reference. Jinguji does eventually come around, and personally, I love how little focus is given to this moment: the entirety of Jinguji's change of mind takes place in one sentence: "I think I'd been wearing rusty armor. I took it off, and I feel fine." It's not emphasized that this is a radical shift in ideology; Jinguji is the same person, but he's been confronted with the error of his ways in a manner that finally got through to him. That the film itself doesn't dwell on this allows me to imagine Jinguji's inner conflict more acutely than if he'd been given a protracted redemption arc.

(I do kind of feel like the subs on the 2006 Media Blasters release leave something to be desired, and I was wondering at some points if they were using dubtitles. I generally try to stay away from complaining about subtitles unless they're egregiously bad, because I'm not fluent in Japanese, but... did I catch them translating "mokusatsu suru" as "ignore"? Were there not some significant real-world repercussions to doing that exact same thing at one point in history?)

Let's move on to the practical effects, which are stunning and I love them. You really can't get any better than the enormous Gōtengō prop. It was a functional drill, and if I remember correctly, was at least partially built by a hardware company. There is something so magnificent about the Gōtengō that never gets old no matter what film it reappears in or how many times I watch this one: that first scene of it rising out of the water, accompanied by Ifukube's massive, swelling orchestral score, is impressive every time. The ship is the centerpiece of the film (literally - the original Japanese title is "Kaitei Gunkan", or "Undersea Warship"), but Atragon also contains enough beautiful matte paintings and miniatures to ensure that the undersea Mu empire feels like a real, fleshed-out location. I've always been captivated by the interior view of Mu's engine room, those massive, spinning rotors that completely dwarf any human being give off such a sense of scale that it's difficult for me to remember they're just miniatures in real life.

And there's Manda. I never really thought the inclusion of Manda was as jarring as it seems to be for some people, but maybe that's because I love this movie so much that I don't think about it enough. There's such a focus on military grandstanding and who has the best submarines that I guess if you look at it one way it could be a little silly to see Mu suddenly pull out their giant underwater dragon that they feed people to. But I love Manda and I hate when they freeze it after it attacks the Gōtengō. Manda did nothing wrong.

I'm going to try to end this review here because I could talk at length about this movie for much longer than I already have. It's just one of those things that's perfect from start to finish and never gets old. It is dated but its message isn't. I'll say one last thing before I wrap this up: every time I watch this I notice something new about it, and this time what struck me was how much the supporting cast gives to it. Yū Fujiki being a ham and Kenji Sahara wearing the most obvious disguise ever (perhaps rehearsing for his future stint wearing the most obvious disguise ever in Space Amoeba) add a little humor to a very serious and heavy film. The Empress of Mu, played by Tetsuko Kobayashi (who apparently also did her own makeup for the film), has few spoken lines but a screen presence that supercedes her. Every part of this movie is so good. I can't believe people think it's boring. I want to get everybody to watch this with me.