Battle In Outer Space

"American sci-fi films of the 1950s were almost always filmed in a flat, gray, even stodgy documentary-like style; by comparison, these Japanese films appeared to be the work of lunatics." -Stuart Galbraith IV [Monsters Are Attacking Tokyo!]-

Could a title like Battle In Outer Space [1959] possibly disappoint a genre fan looking for, well, battles in outer space? Perish the thought. We're about to find out if a film with a title straight from the book of K.I.S.S. could possibly fail the dreams of fan boys everywhere. We continue our look at the films of Ishiro Honda, Eiji Tsuburaya and the team at Toho.

If it appeared a trademark of Ishiro Honda to incorporate scientific cooperation into his science fiction [The Mysterians, Battle In Outer Space, Gorath] and fantasy pictures it's because it was indeed part of his personal world view. This was indeed a thematic component infused within Honda's work. Galbraith IV notes an interview with Honda whereby Honda admits, he "explored the theme of international conflict and cooperation through science for the common good." This belief was born of the second World War and Honda's own trials through that period and his witness to its devastation. Honda embraced science and mourned the lack of trust between nations. "That's why even in my films after Gojira, I've made it an established practice to have the scientists of the world get together for the sake of cooperation."

The Mysterians introduced two important components in Honda's work. First, cooperation between nations and the cautious application of science and technology for preservation of the planet. He applied this principle to his natural love for science and science fiction.

Whereby Gojira [1954] paid tribute or homage to the likes of American-based film King Kong [1933] or The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms [1953], and Rodan [1956] to Them! [1954], The Mysterians [1957]was Toho's answer to Earth Vs. The Flying Saucers [1956]. Battle In Outer Space continued to build upon the Honda space opera epic two years later.

Honda's second go round at pure sci-fi proves how expertly crafted and beautifully filmed Honda's science fiction could be. Splendid effects and model work, gorgeous mattes, a multi-national sense of epic Tohoscope. Yes, Honda was indeed shooting big and outside of the United States, Japan was the only country making film on such a large scale.

Along with the masterful quartet of producer Tomoyuki Tanaka, director Ishiro Honda, composer Akira Ifukube and special effects master Eiji Tsuburaya, a fine cast was assembled, but apart from Koreya Senda [Varan The Unbelievable], most are not the Honda mainstays we've come to expect. New genre face Ryo Ikebe would return for Honda's third picture in the trilogy, Gorath [1962] as well as The War In Space [1977] for understudy director Jun Fukuda. He also starred opposite Akihiko Hirata and Akira Kubo in Submarine I-57 Will Not Surrender [1959] the same year, a film I would love to see released in America on Blu-Ray, but DVD would suffice. The film also introduces beauty Kyoko Anzai to the genre, another real stunner in a long line of Toho dolls. Unfortunately, these hired guns are but mere bodies minus any real substance within the adventure tale.

In space [remember, a battle takes place there], a spinning top-like satellite spins in orbit around the Earth. Manned with offensive capability it defends itself against incoming UFOs. Despite its efforts the station is no match for alien weaponry and is disintegrated.

Somewhere in Japan a passing UFO has a magnetic effect on a metal bridge lifting it into the air. Special effects master Eiji Tsuburaya's work is seamless and flawless in execution. As a result of the levitating bridge the train crashes into the valley below and the bridge is delicately placed back on the cliff ledge. The disaster is dubbed a mystery along with the explosion of space station JSS3. Other unexplained phenomenon are happening across the globe.

A global summit is called and it is postulated that a freeze-ray is responsible for the loss of gravity on several international incidents. The summit considers the intentions of the extra-terrestrials. The global initiative hopes that these beings are "peace-loving" too. I found that remark rather interesting. Without question Honda was a nationalist, but a man of peace, but also a man exposed to the atrocities of war between nations. Thematically Honda's films are largely the result of these massive, life-altering weapons of mass destruction. The resulting atom bomb in many ways made Honda the director he was and would continue to be. Just look at the central message of predecessor The Mysterians. Still, it does not change his message or his desire for peace through scientific gathering and cooperation. This is Honda. Of course, let's not be naive, if defense is necessary weapons will be employed against these alien invaders ad nauseum. Battle In Outer Space once again takes up the message of peace and science and the co-existence of these variables.

Weapons testing commences on special metal S250 utilizing a human-sized variation on the maser tanks implemented in The Mysterians.

Through an effort toward international cooperation, Japan unveils its very own SPIP, a spaceship, two actually, the result of a major global initiative and credited as such.

A foreign head of state or ambassador named Dr. Achmed begins wreaking havoc in the spaceship hangar bay under the influence of aliens attempting to steal the heat ray cannon or atomic heat cannon as its called. Wearing a turban Achmed, an Iranian representative, declares Earth will become a colony of Natarl before being usurped by a red ray from the overhead saucer.

Somehow, and I'm not exactly sure how, Earth has determined that the aliens of Natarl have built a base on the moon and are preparing to launch a strike. As a countermeasure, Earth prepares to launch the SPIP on a fact-finding mission. Where is Kumi Mizuno when you need her?

A "brave" crew of eight will launch on SPIP Ship 1 led by Dr. Adachi. Ship 2 will also have eight led by Dr. Richardson. We may not have Kumi, but Kyoko Anzai will have to do nicely along with Ryo Ikebe. The launch site is typically impressive with SPIP Ship 1 and SPIP Ship 2 in the background.

The attractive leads spend some time laying in the grass and gazing at the moon under a moonlit night. It's a beautiful little scene and one you rarely see in cinema today. It's nice to see in a science fiction tale with scale and scope, but the character parts are poorly written. The sweet, romantic moment is interrupted by a fellow astronaut toying with their peace. The scene is broken by actor Yoshio Tsuchiya [Matango].

While driving Iwomura, played by Tsuchiya, is visited by a deep-voiced alien who takes command and control of his vehicle. The alien informs Iwomura that their "life energy" has been implanted into his brain and he will now be controlled by their signal. For all intents and purposes, like Dr. Achmed, Iwomura will be a living robot.

The outlandish ideas are bold and exciting and probably play into the stereotypical perception of crazy Japanese cinema, but when Toho made fantasy and science fiction films of this nature they were always big and unabashed in their epic nature. Here is that implied transformation and it actually works beautifully. There is nothing gratuitous. A simple trickle of blood is all that's needed to tell the creepy little tale.

In truth, of all the characters in the film, Tsuchiya is the highlight as far as the cast goes and that's not saying much, because even his meaty little role is limited. The material is simply not there for the actors to really spring into life on screen. In fact, Gerry Anderson's Tracy family on Thunderbirds [1965-1966] have more personality. The Iwomura character is perhaps the exception.

Later, the SPIPs prepare for launch in a grand sequence as only Honda and Tsuburaya could commit to film. It's worth noting that while the SPIPs are extremely simple, streamlined and elegant in their design complete with their shining metallic bodies and red tips, they are beautifully exquisite for it.

The SPIPs leave the Earth's atmosphere and enter outer space. En route to the Moon they even come across space station debris and a floating human body, which moves the crew pause for a sweet moment of prayer, a rare thing to see in film. A short time later the aliens launch glowing rock meteors or alien space torpedoes at the ships. The SPIPs use the atomic heat cannon to destroy all objects. The lightning like ray signature is kind of like the precursor to King Ghidrah's own special talent.

On board Ship 1, a deep-voiced alien reaches out to Iwomura. Guess what section he handles? Yes, the atomic heat cannon unit. The aliens order him to cut power to the weapon. Unfortunately for our heroes, the heat ray is their only offensive capability.

A crewman checks on Iwomura and a skirmish breaks out as Iwomura closes valves to the heat ray cannon. Ship 1 suffers a near hit by the glowing meteorites, but thanks to side burners turns things in their favor as the SPIP narrowly averts the glowing rock. The aliens continue to warn the "Earthlings" to stay away from the Moon or die. These are nice stark options.

As the SPIPS move to landing position, rotation and full thrusters are activated. The scene plays like a live action version of Atari's Lunar Lander. Pure good fun.

Automatic defense systems are activated. Fitted with nifty space suits and ray guns, the teams exit their respective rockets with hopes to find answers. These have to go down in the long pantheon of great space suits next to Star Trek, Space:1999, Sunshine, etc..

To research, the ships have been fitted with some well-designed shuttlecraft suitable for Moon travel. It's the kind of Moon unit that would make Lost In Space, Space:1999 or Thunderbirds proud. Etsuko Shiraishi, played by Anzai, worries about Iwomura, but Adachi wisely understands the mutinous Iwomura is a liability affected by alien influence.

While searching for the alien signal in their land craft, Iwomura is awakened by the aliens to destroy the SPIP. The land craft or Moon All Terrain Vehicles and overall production design and matte work on the Moon is quite special.

The Moon vehicles can fly employing an air cushion system placing them comfortably in International Rescue territory. Somehow these aliens are smart enough to implement mind control remotely but never detect the two moon buggies and the silver-suited travellers of Earth hiding about the Moonscape surface. Go figure.

Meanwhile, Iwomura breaks free of his constraints now tasked with destroying the SPIP.

Sadly, in typical Honda fashion, the music sounds terrific by Ifukube, but for long stretches not much happens as our travelling team walks about the moon surface. I kept playing Walking On The Moon by The Police in my head for one segment from Regatta de Blanc [1979].

Sound effects are also recycled from Rodan as the sounds of the Meganurons [dragonfly larvae] are used here to alert you to the Natarl. Elsewhere, the deep-throated Natarlian implores Iwomura to "hurry." These are not the orders of an alien race striking fear in hearts and minds, but these were much more innocent days in entertainment.

The group finds the entrance to the underground base of operations on the moon in much the same way scientists found the underground lair of The Mysterians. Upon discovery, the men task Etsuko with collecting the atomic heat cannon. It seems a daunting task for just one pretty female after the terrain that was just traversed, but, well, good luck. In all sincerity, it's merely a reason to put the pretty Japanese babes in jeopardy to be saved by handsome leads. Who better to rescue other than Kyoko Anzai? Okay, Kumi Mizuno is a nice choice, but she's not in this picture.

So these strange little, masked aliens, also in nifty space suits, converge on Etsuko with their Meganuron sound effects and alien claws. Be sure take a look at those paws. Etsuko is captured.

Back at the rockets, Iwomura succeeds in blowing up Ship 1 of the SPIPs. He makes his way to Ship 2. Now we know why there were two rockets. Hopefully, they will stop Iwomura before it's too late.

Major Chiro Katsumiya, played by Ikebe, comes to Etsuko's rescue complete with ray gun. The creatures bounce around with their strange little helmets which, once again, are simple but effectively designed. Somehow, Ikebe breaks Etsuko free of ten aliens single-handedly and mows them all down with a single shot of his gun. The Matango these critters are not! What a missed opportunity. Battle In Outer Space had a chance to be truly frightening, but the villains here feel like nothing more than little people from The Wizard Of Oz in weirdly designed space suits with no real plan for their attack. There's nothing vicious about these little guys. Could the Earth really be in that much peril? Perhaps they are just really good with technology, but mano a mano they offer nothing spectacular in their ability to fight.

The aliens give the Earthlings ten seconds to surrender. Essentially the battle in outer space consists of a Natarlian base and a band of Earthlings. But I almost keeled over in laughter when the alien gave its ultimatum and literally began counting. You'd never see that from Balock in Star Trek: The Original Series, The Corbomite Maneuver. Here it for yourself and laugh away.

So bring on the atomic heat cannon. Why don't the aliens just directly zap the cannon and the Earthlings? Are they that bad a shot? Before long the Moon vessels begin attacking as well. Aliens begin to fly out of the alien base like bees from a molested hive. The Earthlings manage to damage the base. As a result the signal controlling Iwomura is destroyed. I really need to get one of these. How about something in diecast?

In the final showdown between the Moon buggies and the flying saucers there's of course all the requisite shooting and laser fighting, but very little hits its target from either side. Let me retract my thought regarding their abilities with technology. They are indeed very bad shots.

Upon returning to the SPIP to their horror the crew discovers one of the SPIPs has been destroyed and suspect Iwomura of sabotaging the automated defense system.

Not Kumi Mizuno, but Toho babe with potential! Iwomura, now free of mind control, sits on a rocky ledge firing his weapon and gives the others cover while they escape. He informs his comrades that he had destroyed the SPIP. So he fires away like he's hitting clay pigeons. He bids them farewell as he sacrifices his life to save them. In the end, sadly, despite the opportunity to be saved, Iwomura is vaporized and the others return home.

Back on Earth Honda's message is We must come together to fight our greatest enemy and protect Earth. As the united nations converge at their conference the politicians prove they can say the most profoundly stupid things. These absolutely hysterical closing remarks prove with leaders like these how can we lose? Of course these are the politicians and NOT the rocket scientists.

So fighter rockets are built for combat. Atomic cannons are readied. Now a small point about the modelling drama. There is nothing more dramatic than Japanese weaponry emerging from the ground. When the cement covers slide away to reveal heat ray cannons [essentially markalite cannons] and maser guns and the like, it's a sight of pure, unadulterated geek anticipation. It's simply wonderful and to think Honda was doing this in the 1950s is truly something, because one day anime would take such ideas and run with it to new heights. Think of the emerging city of Tokyo-3 and other covert operations that are submerged in the Geofront of the wonderful series that is Neon Genesis Evangelion and you get the idea. Well, Battle In Outer Space offers a small sampling of terrific live action cinema ideas. Of course, with today's technology it could be truly awesome.

Manned rockets are launched into space. Fighter squadrons and saucers joust with laser fire in a pre-Star Wars spectacle. The saucers have one tactical advantage in that their lasers can shift all around while the rocket cannon fire must be straight. The battle rages on and on and on and on. This is where Honda and Tsuburaya took The Mysterians into an endless Tsuburaya effects spectacle that goes on too long. That and some poor editing ensues, but only in spots. More character and less effects spectacle would have benefitted Battle In Outer Space.

Eventually that endless battle crashes down to Earth and wreaks significant havoc in cities like New York. It's the perfect excuse for explosions, destruction and general chaos compliments of the Toho team.

The mothership lands in Tokyo via approximately 6-8 puppet strings. It causes much annihilation sucking up all manner of cars , buildings and people. It's a particularly impressive sequence. Unfortunately it cannot distract from the lack of compelling human drama but its exciting enough. The atomic heat cannons go into full operation destroying the mothership.
Victory ends in final images of Americans and Japanese celebrating. This is a particularly poignant moment as Honda was indeed channeling his true believer in the spirit of global cooperation. He yearned to see nations working together rather than battling one another. Those final images cement that belief and honor the memory of Honda and all that he made efforts to build upon within the kaiju eiga genre or in his science fiction pictures like Battle In Outer Space. The picture would have benefitted immensely from a much more character-based approach especially had Honda generated stronger material for the international face of his picture. While there are aspects to appreciate about Battle In Outer Space the film really should have been so much more. But, Honda was no doubt learning lessons as he progressed forward because character elements would take a stronger hold in future pictures. Many of the suggested elements that are in play here that I wanted to see explored in greater detail feel like they were in Honda's much better Invasion Of Astro-Monster [1965]. While that film falls squarely within the kaiju eiga genre, the 1965 film is the perfect fusion of giant monster and science fiction. The character components are much stronger. Ikebe and Anzai don't have nearly the chemistry or material to work with that Nick Adams and Kumi Mizuno had alongside Akira Takarada, a trio that taps into the triumvirate concept first established in Gojira. So Battle In Outer Space looks terrific, but rings hollow on character like a cavernous valley on the Moon.

Battle In Outer Space: C+. Writer: Jojiro Okami/ Shinichi Sekizawa. Director: Ishiro Honda.

Additional Commentary: Stuart Galbraith IV dubbed Battle In Outer Space a "superior invasion epic rivaled only by George Pal's War Of The Worlds [1953], Earth Vs. The Flying Saucers [1955], and Independence Day [1996] in terms of scale" in his book Monsters Are Attacing Tokyo! [p.139]. On those terms Galbraith wouldn't be wrong. It's epic! And I never did much care for Independence Day. But it's missing a face for the film, a true human component. Battle In Outer Space is indeed the Japanese equivalent of Earth Vs. The Flying Saucers. It looks terrific in Tohoscope. Honestly, the production values, mattes, model work, effects and performances are all superb. It's a truly exceptional outing on this level, but it's all fluff on top of a fairly serviceable script with absolutely faceless characters. In fact, identifying with the characters is part of the problem here. There isn't a soul to care about, not really. In fact, the Iwomura character is one of the few to develop throughout the film and in the end he is left behind on the moon to be forgotten, like the film. Battle In The Outer Space is an awesome undertaking for its time, but it's slow and underdeveloped by today's standards. A little character building could have gone a long way. All of the effects and spectacle in the world will never replace the human component, which is why the films starring Kumi Mizuno are remembered with such affection. Kyoko Anzai? Who? The use of faces not particularly well known to fans of these genre pictures stateside seems awfully fitting as one simply cannot connect with the film on a humanistic level.

Despite its vintage era production, The Mysterians is the better of these first two sci-fi pictures, but Gorath will round out the Honda space opera trilogy and his foray into pure science fiction. Jun Fukuda's The War In Space [1977] was conceived as a kind of Battle In Outer Space 2, but you'll be the judge of whether or not Fukuda was more or less sucessful than this original. While The Mysterians may have been a bit repetitious perhaps efforts by the aliens to abduct Earth women might have improved Battle In Outer Space's chances.

Galbraith's Japanese Science Fiction, Fantasy And Horror Films notes producer Tomoyuki Tanaka made every effort to squeeze in a monster to the Toho fantasy pictures. Even Honda's science fiction fare was not immune as the appearance of Mogera [derived from the Japanese term for mole] would attest in The Mysterians. The monsters were there to "help sell the movie, even when the plot didn't call for one" [p.28]. Perhaps one of the greatest surprises about this sophomore science fiction effort is that Honda filmed it without once turning to a monster for the picture. And while taking this more realistic approach it fails to succeed entirely due to its inherent disregard for character.

While one of the weaknesses of The Mysterians would be the juxtaposition of "colorful," but "ridiculous" and "out of place" alien costumes amidst a "straight-faced adventure," according to Galbraith, Battle In Outer Space tones it down a touch. Still, the design work is effective, simple yet believable. Even the aliens are sound in design not like the Power Rangers type stylings of those invaders from space found in The Mysterians.

By comparison, Galbraith truly enjoyed Battle In Outer Space even moreso than The Mysterians. It's a tough call and I certainly enjoyed the production values on both. He called Battle In Outer Space "one of the best space operas ever produced." He even felt this second film in the science fiction trilogy "improves upon the story ideas introduced in The Mysterians" and noting, what I consider to be the film's strengths, a film "replete with beautiful color Tohoscope photography and Perspecta stereophonic sound."

Galbraith sees the film as a "flashy spectacle" noting it was breaking relatively epic ground as space yarns go. He believes the film should be forgiven for its "almost total lack of story and characterizations." Yes, it's an impressive effort and Tsuburaya makes it a far more palatable affair than Varan The Unbelievable, but its hard to forgive entirely for the lack of attention and detail to character. The human story is what allows a film to endure and hold up to repeat viewings and its mostly absent here. It's a splendid film to see for its effects work as I've mentioned. Miniatures, models and those "manta-ray" alien ship designs with their "glowing underbellies" makes a feast for the eyes.

Galbraith knocks lead actor Ryo Ikebe as "bland," but again it falls back on a languid character script with not much for the actors to sink their teeth.

Galbraith concluded, "Battle In Outer Space succeeds in an area where nearly all U.S.-made science fiction films by this time fail-showmanship and an ability to produce something visually exciting." It's funny, I couldn't agree more with Galbraith's final remarks on the film, but we go our separate ways in terms of the film's degree of success as entertainment. Galbraith believes it "remains one of Japan's best science fiction films." Not having a thorough grasp on Japanese science fiction and if you don't count kaiju eiga, that statement may actually be entirely true, but it doesn't change the fact something better is certainly waiting to be made. I look forward to seeing Space Battleship Yamato [2011] for example. Again, the human drama is the compelling variable here for me. It's the characters you care about that always anchor the proceedings of a story no matter how big or small. It would be interesting to see what you think about Honda's Battle In Outer Space. Honda certainly doesn't fail to deliver when it comes to the promise of the film's premise and title, put simply, this is a battle in outer space. That might be enough for some.

Battle In Outer Space Promo

The promise of a battle in outer space was never more assured than in the hands of singular visionary, director Ishiro Honda.

I'm reminded of classic episodes of some of the best in science fiction television. Those that come to mind include classic Battlestar Galactica's Fire In Space, Buck Rogers In The 25th Century's Vegas In Space and Planet Of The Slave Girls, Star Trek: The Original Series' Mudd's Women, The Incredible Hulk's Terror In Times Square or A Child In Need, The Six Million Dollar Man's The Seven Million Dollar Man, The Bionic Boy, The Bionic Woman or Steve Austin, Fugitive, Land Of The Lost's Tar Pit and Stone Soup, and finally Lost In Space, well, there's too many to name beginning with Attack Of The Monster Plants. And no one nailed it better than Gerry Anderson's Thunderbirds with titles like Pit Of Peril, Vault Of Death, Trapped In The Sky and City Of Fire.

Once upon a time, those titles were simple, straightforward and didn't lie. Little room was left to interpretation. Today's television often relishes ambiguity, the indefinable, the intentionally vague or the use of rhetorical devices and other colorful language or expressions to capture the intent or theme of a story. Back in the day, not the case, Battle In Outer Space! 'Nuff said. I'm probably exaggerating a touch here about today's television, despite its efforts to be relatively smart and clever. Sometimes the simplest titles make the most sense though.

One of the best visionaries with a clear, concise idea for his films was none other than director Ishiro Honda. Gojira, Rodan, Mothra and Battle In Outer Space. In fact, Toho never overcomplicated matters when it came to genre films whether kaiju eiga or science fiction. The War Of The Gargantuas, The War In Space, Son Of Godzilla, King Kong Escapes and anything in the Godzilla Vs. series. There was never a need to mince words or overcomplicate a good idea.

The H-Man

"Honda and Tsuburaya's monster films address the ghosts of the Japanese past playfully yet seriously, in a way calculated to exorcise those ghosts. They celebrate the nation, but theirs is a pacifist nationalism." -Thomas Schnellbacher, Has The Empire Sunk Yet? The Pacific in Japanese Science Fiction, Robot Ghosts And Wired Dreams: Japanese Science Fiction From Origins To Anime [2007] [p.33]-

The H-Man [1958], as in the Hydrogen man, is director Ishiro Honda's seamless blend of film noir, horror ghost story and science fiction that preceded his similar human-sized film The Human Vapour [1960]. Like Gojira [1954], and later Matango [1963], The H-Man [US title; H-Man is the recognized International title according to Toho Kingdom] delves deeply into the psychology of a director's ghosts and the subtext he continues to weave into film as informed by the horrific and haunting events visited upon a people. It marries his love for science fiction and fantasy with his deep concerns over the proliferation of nuclear weapons on a global scale. Honda, while delivering a uniquely Japanese picture of fantasy somehow manages to speak to people about these events on an international scale while entertaining and if that's "pacifist nationalism" it's also splendid cinematic spectacle.

The opening images of the film are suggestive and illustrate in image this understandably dark fascination with what was arguably a bold, horrifying new world of science in the 1950s.

A mushroom cloud, a floating boat in the dark waters symbolizing the fateful events of the Daigo Fukuryu-maru or Lucky Dragon No. 5 and its crew's exposure to radiation and nuclear fallout during American atomic testing of the Bikini Atoll, Marshall Islands, in March 1954, roughly four thousand kilometers from Japan under code name Castle Bravo. The images tell the story. The tale is undeniable truth. The nightmare and ghosts are real. From here, Honda takes us into his world where the imagination runs influenced by the affect of nuclear radiation drawn from stark reality and the fate of a fishing vessel's crew including the death of its radioman, Aikichi Kuboyama, six months later from radiation sickness.

Once again, the events of World War II and the atomic bombs of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, as well as the events surrounding that tuna vessel during the tests on the Bikini Atoll continue to inform Honda's work. It was the spark for the subtext of Gojira and the birth of Godzilla, the mutations of shipwrecked survivors from radiated contamination in the food supply in Matango, as well as the fate that drove The Mysterians to Earth in The Mysterians [1957]. There is an undeniable continuity thematically to Honda's films. Those that would denounce the populist works of the director simply weren't paying attention.

The "Pacific setting is an important plot element" thematically as much as Honda's deep-rooted concerns with nuclear power as noted by Thomas Schnellbacher in Has The Empire Sunk Yet? The Pacific In Japanese Science Fiction from the book Robot Ghosts And Wired Dreams: Japanese Science Fiction From Origins To Anime [2007] [p.32].

In The H-Man, the ghost ship steers through the night. Something captain's the wheel of the ship, but, while death's hand is symbolized by images of atomic mushrooms, Honda alludes to something much more horrific awaiting us as we head into uncharted waters of science and technology unleashing weapons we cannot fully comprehend. It's a well-constructed rendering of reality and fiction and Honda, through Toho, was simply one of the best at building these genre tales.

Honda, combined with the scripted word of dark imaginarian Takeshi Kimura, who orchestrates one of his finest from the 1950s. With music composed by Masaro Sato [Akira Ifukube stepping aside for this one] and visual effects by the always stunning [ok, well, there was Varan The Unbelievable, but the effects were good] Eiji Tsuburaya, Honda really delivers again. The H-Man follows a string of solid pictures behind Gojira, the kaiju eiga classic Rodan [1956] and The Mysterians [the first in a classic science fiction trilogy], and now The H-Man.

The thespian triumvirate from Rodan and The Mysterians, actress Yumi Shirakawa and principals Kenji Sahara and Akihiko Hirata, return in what continues to be a clearly fruitful period in Honda history for the three actors. These three films would mark a genuine Shirakawa, Sahara and Hirata triangle before Honda shook things up a bit within the science fiction and fantasy genre. In fact, Shirakawa and Sahara were married for a period according to Stuart Galbraith IV in his book Japanese Science Fiction, Fantasy And Horror Films [p.26].

The story begins with the death of a man on a rainy evening in the city. The man vanishes leaving only his clothes behind on the rain-soaked streets.

Enter Inspector Tominaga, played with ever smooth cool by Hirata [a far different turn from his troubled doctor in Gojira]. He plunges headlong into the criminal gangster underworld to discover something far more inexplicable is in play.

The location shots and vintage era cars and uniforms make for a pleasing viewing experience. It's so refreshing to watch films untainted by the arrival of CGI. It's a marvel to look back at these classic films.

The search for a drug distributor leads them to a missing man named Misaki, but first we meet Misaki's girlfriend, Chikako Arai, played by a more ravishing-than-in-Rodan Shirakawa. She radiates, to use a word, and oozes sex appeal as a singer in The H-Man.

A nightclub scene is captured beautifully on film by Honda who would handle a similar scene on a smaller scale for Matango. While this scene rivals the aforementioned Matango, Matango is the significantly better film. Shirakawa glamorously lip syncs and genuinely shines as a kind of old-fashioned fifties starlet. Why she never embraced looking back at her time in these science fiction fantasies while under Toho's contracts and working for Honda I'll never know or understand, because they are genuinely solid pictures [see Stuart Galbraith IV, Monsters Are Attacking Tokyo]. Shirakawa beams on screen, but I've yet to see anyone out-Mizuno Kimi Mizuno, a personal favorite like many fans of the genre and an absolutely stunning beauty.

Arai is visited at the club by one Doctor Masada played with real credibility by Sahara following two very different performances in Rodan and The Mysterians. Arai gives Masada something for Misaki, but he is arrested by police. Masada explains he is a scientist studying radioactive emissions from nuclear bombs - the effect of radioactive fallout on human beings. Masada believes a phenomenon is responsible for "melting" people through radiation. Inspector Tominaga scoffs at the notion finding the scientific theory implausible. Masada explains he was seeking out Arai to determine if Misaki had ever been to the Bikini Atoll or Christmas Island. Masada is warned to steer clear of the case and released.

Arai is visited by a member of the Yakuza [Japanese mafia] at night. Her window is open. He warns her not to turn Misaki over to authorities. Upon his escape into the rain, shots are fired and all that is left behind is a gun and the man's clothing. Like the man earlier, he has melted into the rain.

Arai can't explain it to police, but she saw a "dark shadow." Nevertheless, there is little faith in her story as much as there was in Masada's hypothesis. Masada returns and the police grant the professor of Kyoto University access to Arai. Masada asks if the missing Misaki was ever on a fishing boat?

Masada takes Tominaga and detective Sakata to visit a man in a hospital who witnessed a melting. Through flashback Honda revisits the man's experience one eerie evening out on the water. A boat pulls up alongside a drifting ghost ship. Men board the ship. The sequence is handled with lamps and is positively haunting in its effective creepiness. These flashbacks, like the one in Rodan, are Honda trademarks. They are indeed bread and butter in his films. He's just terrific with them. In fact, Matango may be that good because that film is populated with these kinds of sequences and you're simply mesmerized.

While on the vessel the men are attacked by amorphous ghost-like figures who utilize a kind of radioactive primordial soup to dissolve their victims. A handful of men are killed while just a few escape. The terrific mood and vibe is capped off by the men escaping and the sight of ghosts or H-Men topside on the disappearing ship. The H-Man is limited or hamstrung to a degree by its effects, but, a few years later, Matango, on the other hand, would nail the boat and ghost ship sequences to cinematic perfection using make-up and prosthetics. The H-Man is effective but limited. Still, the ghostly figures on the deck of that ship delivers a spine-tingling moment that pre-dates, but recalls the atmospheric best of director John Carpenter's ghost story The Fog [1980].

Upon leaving the hospital Tominaga is still a skeptic chalking up the man's tales as nothing more than a sailor's story. Masada implores them not to discount the power of radiation sickness or fallout. And when Masada asks for the Ryujinmaru's logbook you know what Honda and Kimura are shooting for here. Honda is directly inciting the historical incidents of the atomic tests in the Pacific. The men on the ship disappeared the day of the test. Six men vanished and Honda's horror tale is symbolic of the fate of the radiation poisoning that befell men on that fateful day in the Pacific following World War II.

Masada attempts to prove his thesis of radiation damage on tissue to Tominaga using a frog and turning it too into a pile of mush goo. Actually the frog is liquefied and the liquid is alive. Houston we have a problem - make that Tokyo. The monstrous radiated children of the atomic tests have landed in Tokyo via the Ryujinmaru, a clear symbol of the Daigo Fukuryu-maru and the men that returned to Japan following the incident affected by nuclear fallout. The monsters are on the loose and thus the confusing title of The H-Man when it is clearly H-Men. Masada informs Tominaga that part of the Ryujinmaru has been discovered in Tokyo Bay covered in radioactive fallout.

This is a typically nice character exchange moment between Sahara and Shirakawa. We begin to understand that the H-Men are identified by a stange sound effect on screen. When the sound appears the ghostly creatures are not far away. The sound appears at the end of the scene between Sahara and Shirakawa suggesting Misaki may be close.

Masada hides Shakawa from the police and the Hanada gang.

Arai wishes the scientists to release the information they have because people have "dissolved." It does have a certain campy humor to it, though it's never played that way. One of the scientists, Doctor Maki, played by Koreya Senda, is a hold over from Varan The Unbelievable [the same year] where he played Doctor Sugimoto. I bet he never realized he'd be part of another unbelievable case. Bad joke? And so Maki wants to make the findings public as Honda's horror tale is tied directly to Tominaga's crime procedural and missing persons investigation. This is a nice scene between Hirata, Sahara and Shirakawa.

The thing about these early Honda pictures is that they breathe. They take their time. His camera reveals details, characters, style, mood, atmosphere. They are filled with the kind of old picture charms that today's cinema has simply lost more often than not. Today, we have all the subtlety of a striking hammer, maybe even the strike of Thor's hammer in The Avengers [2012]. It's all spectacle and very little time is taken to simply absorb a frame like a work of art. Honda's art here in The H-Man gives viewers a chance to enjoy the moment and take it all in like fine pop art. Honda spends a good deal of time converging the police, the gangs and ultimately the H-Men together in a big, bold musical number inside of a truly fantastic night club sequence. It really kicks and song and dance numbers are truly magnificent and big in their presentation given striking detail and complexity.

Ultimately the H-Men attack Blob-style absorbing humans quicker than you can count and appearing, where required, as ghostly apparitions and the harbingers of death. Their form alternates somewhat inexplicably.

The hypothesis that is proven is that a heavy dosage of radiation can liquify its victims and thus create a liquid life form. The H-Man, like Matango, is body transformation horror, albeit, again, not nearly as successful as the execeptional Matango.

The H-Man posits that the mind of man could be transplanted into an altogether different form as a result of technology run amok. The headlines read: H-BOMB CREATES ANOTHER TYPE OF HUMAN. The frightening horror established within Honda's sci-fi horror is that a new life form capable of living with radiation has been born.

Arai is abducted and Masada gives chase in the film's climactic action sequence, which is a tame stroll in the park by today's standards, but the score is appropriately stirring lending the sequence its most thrilling component culminating in a crash.

There are moments in the final minutes where The H-Man feels as though it devolves into the slightly formulaic as kaiji genre standards are applied accordingly. 1. People scurry and run fron the invasive menace. 2. Areas are evacuated. 3. The Japanese groupthink a plan to destroy the creature. In this case, it's the H-Men, or the H-Man, though it's really the H-Men and the film does seem a tad confused on this basic plot point. Though, giving it some thought, more in a moment on that point.

Arai is taken into the sewers. The gangster believes Arai was always too good for the missing Misaki. With the H-Man close and flitting about the sewers, the man offers her the choice of going with him or being "eaten by the H-Man." It does have a certain unsavory ring to it.

The flame ignition group tasked with destroying the H-Man gives the orders to burn the sewer system down despite the fact Masada heads into the sewers to find Arai.

As Arai and the gangster make their way through the sewers the end arrives swift as the H-Man always gets his carbon-based man. Meanwhile, an exhausted Arai is about as helpless as damsels in distress go. Masada saves her from the encroaching H-Man. Ultimately the flamethrowers finally finish off what is clearly several H-Men.

All confusing titular humor aside, I offer my defense of Honda and Kimura here. The H-Man, as a title, does capture the essence of Honda's nightmare living in a new world of radioactive and nuclear technologies. The H-Man conjures an idea of haunting and nightmarish consequences and the impact of technology unchecked affecting man. So, The H-Man is less a title referring to a specific physical entity or entities that physically inhabit the film, and more an idea born of madness.

In The H-Man, the challenge was to simulate the effects of monster slime dissolving and liquefying a human host. Tsuburaya used life-sized latex dolls, dressed them, then let the air out while filming at a slightly increased speed. It just so happens the idea of men mutating and undergoing body transformation into deadly gelatinous masses is a good one. The concept is one that has surfaced in films for decades. Think films like more recent horror outings such as Splinter [2008]. Thus The H-Man brings us the latest monster from the mind of Ishiro Honda in keeping with his examination of human foible within the nuclear age - ourselves. A scientist professes, "We cannot guarantee there will never be another H-Man again." And of course that's the message of Honda in his war on the possibility of human extinction within this new age of nuclear power and atomic weapons. Our existence faces the potential to be replaced by the likes of the H-Man if humankind continues its stumble into the technological darkness. This is Honda's fear and this is his warning and it's brought to fantastical life through limited effects crossed with a film noir style in The H-Man. What form will man take in the future of humanity? That is the question. The H-Man: C+. Director: Ishiro Honda. Writer: Takeshi Kimura/ Hideo Kaijo.

Additional Commentary: For additional analysis and inspired reflection I turned to fellow bloginator Mykal Banta and his always wonderful reflections on cinema inspired by the birth of the atom bomb. Following the first atomic bomb test, Trinity, in July 1945, detonated at the White Sands Missile Range in south central New Mexico, an abundant world of cinema was born and Mykal over at Radiation Cinema! Sci-Fi B-Movies And Television From The Atomic Age! continues to explore that particular world ever so articulately and with a literary flourish.

His article, Ishiro Honda Irradiates Film Noir: The H-Man, is a popular post at his site and caught my eye too. It was my first real exposure [pun not intended actually] to The H-Man. I revisited Mykal's piece after seeing the film and writing about it so as not to influence my own viewing experience.

So many have often underappreciated director Honda, even actors who worked for him like Rhodes Reason [King Kong Escapes] who unfairly dubbed him a "hack" director noted in an interview with Stuart Galbraith IV for Monsters Are Attacking Tokyo. Nothing could be further from the truth. There was much more in play in each film than the fantastical he created to meet the human eye. Note this wonderful opening by Mykal which really captures the essence of Ishiro Honda as a director.

"The great Japanese director, Ishirô Honda, made films constructed like Russian nesting dolls: The surface layer is always something grand and commercial, certainly, but once opened, layers of treasures come into the light. Honda never saw things simply, or easily. Like the artist he was, he would see the core of any film he was assigned (he worked for Japan’s Toho Studios) through his own crystal prism. Thus, his 1956 masterpiece, Gojira (Godzilla), a film about a giant lizard destroying Tokyo (and magnificent on those simple terms), becomes a film about the horrors of nuclear war and the essential goodness of mankind. And no assigned project was given anything less than the full Honda vision. Thus, his 1969 Gojira Minira Gabara Ōru Kaijū Daishingeki (All Monsters Attack), while often thought of as the worst film in the Godzilla franchise, is actually a delicate and moving film about a child’s alienation in a harsh, urban world of crushing poverty."

These thoughts could not capture the man's work more eloquently.

The goo-like impact of The H-Man arrived in 1958 alongside The Blob [1958]. As Mykal notes this fact is mostly "purely and wonderfully coincidental," including their respective running times almost to the minute upon further inspection. While the reddish, jelly-like Blob was pure outerspace science fiction, Honda's gelatinous green ooze was the work of Honda's mind affected by the arrival of real concerns in the form of atomic mushroom clouds.

Unlike the pure science fiction of The Blob, The H-Man had higher aspirations. As Mykal notes, this was a "gangster film" with a "crack team of untouchables" hoping to "crush the Tokyo underworld." Yes, "Honda has envisioned a direct and linear crime film with an undertone of effective, very creepy sci-fi – not the other way around. And Honda will have his way!"

It's true that The H-Man is populated by a variety of character archtypes that are complemented by "glowing liquid – driven to slither and ooze from Tokyo’s sewer system" or "blue radiated... monster ooze" or "radioactive slush killer" or "blue glowing mutants."

As we've noted earlier, as many sources have noted and as Mykal notes, the implication of many H-Men as a specific number is never made clear, but it is more than one H-Man, which is why I would generally accept the title of Honda's film as a conceptual device as I've offered earlier.

Mykal breaks down his analysis of each picture he reviews, in many instances, via segments dubbed The Good Stuff, which is also good fun.

Mykal discusses in some detail the work of Hirata and offers a delightful assessment of the character actor. "I watched his mad doctor save Tokyo in Honda’s 1954 Gojira. His tortured, moving performance was just so perfectly controlled, so reserved and – yes – just plain cool. There is something about a Hirata character that always seems unhurried and slightly remote from the frantic thrashings of his fellow humans, particularly when others are devoured by chaos and panic. He dwells always in the perfect eye of the hurricane." This is a terrific tribute and speaks volumes about the actor's abilities. Hirata's hard-nosed gumshoe role in The H-Man is the anti-thesis of his quirkier, disturbed scientist role in Gojira and the stark contrast genuinely demonstrates his range, a range American critics often discounted in Japanese/ Toho science fiction films regarding Hirata and a host of other Japanese actors. American writers demonstrated real ignorance of the acting breadth of Japan's top actors and Hirata's work in The H-Man and Gojira offers a substantive example of genuine versatility.

In another segment Mykal notes Honda And The Hottest Club In Tokyo. "Club Homura swings! From the hot band all dressed in cream-colored suits to the gorgeous dancers, it looks like one fine time. The service looks absolutely top flight, and the singer (Chikako) can really give purr the sultry (on this evening, she sings in English – a little number called “How Deep is My Love”). I can’t think of another film where a club scene so perfectly captures the Atomic Age in all its splendor." As I discussed earlier, the sequence manages to juxtapose criminals, law enforcement and sex kittens within a spectacular and splendid framing of action. As Mykal notes, very little dialogue is exchanged and it is mostly a visual sequence told through picture and action highlighting the magic of Honda.

Mykal's final thought: "All worlds meet in the bowels of Tokyo or Fire Solves Everything!," is just terrific. Consider Gojira, Rodan, The Mysterians and now The H-Man and fire figures prominently somewhere along the way. Amusing, but not far from the truth. Here he makes a good degree of humor about Honda's scriptwriters fighting the proverbial nuclear fire with fire. "Yes, Tominaga’s plan of attack is to dump thousands upon thousands of gallons of gasoline into the sewer system and light it. The push pins indicate the “fire ignition groups” that will set off this giant gas bomb “simultaneously.” Well, yep, that should do ‘er. The dozens of officials listening all nod their heads in approval once Tominaga has finished. Yes, yes. Fine plan. You guys sure you don’t see a potential problem with Tominaga’s tactical masterpiece? Anyone? No? Well, OK, then, light it up." It's fairly illogical, but we do have these lapeses in good sense within the fantastical world of Honda and that's okay.

Without hesitation, do check out Radiation Cinema! and the work of Mykal Banta. Based on the content of his wonderful site, Banta will never be accused of being prolific, but his rare entry is always a work of quality on vintage films. Mykal dispatches on average one to two posts per month with just one post in 2012. He has achieved a grand total of 49 quality posts. He has a whopping 286 "Irradiated" followers and climbing as of this writing since his site's inception in 2008. That's incredible really when you consider folks like myself have been toiling away at it since 2007. Impressive and deserved. His efforts are always solid. All the (nuclear) power to him.

In the end, Mykal makes some great observations and gives The H-Man a discerning look even if I didn't quite appreciate it the film to the same degree. Here are his final remarks. "Honda draws both worlds - the one of sci-fi horror and the one of gritty urban crime – patiently together, pulling all concerned toward the twilight world of Tokyo’s sewers with a watchmaker’s precision. He winds the tension in his watch, too, with a master’s stroke."

Meanwhile, writer Stuart Galbraith IV certainly noted the strengths of The H-Man including the then compelling effects scenes that truly propel the ghostly tale in his book Japanese Science Fiction, Fantasy And Horror Films. But Galbraith IV does make some excellent points regarding the film's shortcomings. As Galbraith notes, The H-Man can seem a tad confused by alternating between "moving blobs" and "blue-green ghosts" [p.38]. Like the title, what exactly are we shooting for here? As Galbraith notes, "neither form is adequately explained." Additionally, the transformation of the human form to the anti-matter of an H-man is "never really explained." It's a fair point, and one that is forgivable for fans of the genre. Galbraith does note the "hauntingly gruesome effects" implemented as geuinely effective particularly given the film's copyright date dubbing them "creepy" and "unnerving." Given the still fairly steamy dance number, which still looks relatively provocative, Galbraith notes The H-Man was hardly a "family picture" though "marketed for general audiences." Planet Of The Apes [1968] was also rated G remarkably.

One thing is certain, Honda oversaw some profoundly detailed work in his films. Still, as a film, The H-Man is not quite as successful as Rodan or Gojira, but then again The H-Man is a different kind of film melting and fusing together a number of disparate genre elements. Fans of kaiju eiga may not take a fancy to this genre approach, but like its crime noir, it's an intriguing exercise from a master director, one he would use to good effect by cross-breeding the genres with kaiju eiga for Dogora [1964]. The H-Man is one of three human-sized science fiction affairs followed by Ishiro Honda's The Human Vapour [1960] about a man transformed to gas and the directorial debut of none other than Godzilla fixture Jun Fukuda for The Secret Of Telegian [1960], also starring Shirakawa and Hirata, about a man transformed into a television signal. The H-Man is considered the strongest of the three.