(Note: I originally wrote this essay for my Seminar in Cinema Studies class.)
In
film history, very few characters are as paradoxically simple and complex as
the giant radioactive reptile Godzilla (known in his native Japan as Gojira)
and King Kong, America’s immense gorilla. They are titans of amusement,
colossal draws, and gigantic personifications of entertainment. Their names and
likenesses are known internationally by children and adults alike; the giants
adorn everything from posters and T-shirts to cups and comic books. Yet behind
that fun layer of bubblegum, Godzilla and Kong are also enormously allegorical
in a variety of ways. In Gojira (Toho
Studios, 1954), Godzilla is a destructive dinosaur that has been mutated by the
use of nuclear weapons; when looking at the proximity of Gojira’s release to the 1945 atomic bombings of the Japanese cities
Hiroshima and Nagasaki by the U.S., it is clear that Godzilla represents the
terrible destructive qualities of nuclear weaponry. He would return in a
similar destructive role in Gojira’s
1955 sequel Gojira no gyakushu, known
in the U.S. as Godzilla Raids Again.
On the other hand, King Kong (RKO
Pictures, 1933) revolves around the theme of humanity tampering with – and
attempting to control – nature for the sake of consumerism, and dealing with
the tragic results. After all, Kong is kidnapped from his island home by a band
of profit-hungry animal poachers led by Carl Denham – an entrepreneur with aspirations
of glory and avarice – all in the name of spectacle and income. Interestingly,
the themes of these two films are cut from the same cloth, as both of them are
essentially cautionary tales that question humanity’s feelings of superiority
and entitlement where the exploitation of nature is concerned. Alternatively,
while the themes may be similar, they are also distinct to their respective
cultures: for nuke-wary Japan, Godzilla is basically a walking atomic bomb, his
own mutated state the result of prolonged exposure to radiation; in capitalist
America, Kong is a wild animal seized from his home for the sake of personal
profit and acclaim.
This cultural
dichotomy becomes especially interesting when the film King Kong vs. Godzilla is taken into account. First released in
Japan in August 1962 as Kingu Kongu tai
Gojira (it was released in the U.S. almost a year later) with Gojira director Ishiro Honda at the helm,
King Kong vs. Godzilla was the first
and last time the two iconic monsters would meet on the big screen. The film
was initially conceived by King Kong stop-motion
animator Willis O’Brien in the form of a second Kong sequel – the first sequel, Son
of Kong, was released nine months after the original (Morton 120). The
film’s concept was altered several times before becoming King Kong vs. Godzilla, with the initial idea involving Kong
battling an overgrown Frankenstein’s Monster. Over time, the battle concept
remained the same, but Kong’s opponent did not: Frankenstein’s Monster gave way
to a beast composed of animal parts, which then was changed into a being called
Prometheus. Finally, the idea fell into the hands of Toho Studios in the early
1960s, and King Kong vs. Godzilla was
born.
The plot is
driven by intoxicating berries that are discovered by a Japanese pharmaceutical
company on a remote Pacific island called Faro. The company’s boss, Mr. Tako,
sends some of his employees to the island to collect the berries from the
natives. In the meantime, Godzilla bursts out of an iceberg in the Pacific
Ocean, destroys an investigating United Nations submarine, and heads for Japan.
Hearing of this development, Mr. Tako sees an opportunity to raise his
company’s television ratings in addition to getting the berries; Tako also
wants his men to bring Faro Island’s god-creature, which turns out to be King
Kong, back to Japan. While Godzilla wreaks havoc in Japan, Tako’s men succeed
in capturing Kong after he battles a giant octopus and passes out from drinking
caskets of berry juice. On the way back to Japan, Kong wakes up, escapes, ends
up fighting Godzilla several times, and eventually emerges from the fray as the
winner. The film’s ending is the subject of a long-lasting myth that Godzilla
wins in the Japanese version, while it is Kong that is victorious in the
American version. The truth of the matter is that Toho had always meant for
Kong to triumph, and he does so in both versions of the film (Morton 124). The
origins of this dual-ending myth are vague, but it may have been started in an
article about KK vs. G written by
Forrest J. Ackerman in a 1963 issue of Spacemen
magazine (Ackerman).
Interestingly,
at this point in both characters’ respective filmographies, King Kong was far
more popular in Japan than Godzilla (Hollings 118). When the original King Kong was released in Japanese
theaters, the film became so popular that two unauthorized remakes cropped up: Wasei Kingu Kongu in 1933 and Edo Ni Arawareta Kingu Kongu in 1938
(Morton 123). Roughly translated as Japanese
King Kong and King Kong Appears in
Edo respectively, each film featured an actor in a ape suit portraying
Kong, a much cheaper alternative to the expensive stop-motion technique used in
the original film and Son of Kong.
Unfortunately, these intriguing Japanese Kong flicks are considered lost films,
and aside from a poster for King Kong
Appears in Edo and a few photo stills, there remains very little evidence
that the movies existed at all. Nevertheless, the notion that these remakes
were produced hints at how far back in history that the relationship between
Japan and King Kong goes. Taking this connection into account, it is easy to
see why Toho portrayed Kong, not Godzilla, as the hero in KK vs. G.
Movie poster for King Kong Appears in Edo (1938) |
While the
summary leaves out many details (which will be addressed more thoroughly later
in this essay), it is easy to spot the similarities between King Kong vs. Godzilla to Godzilla and
Kong’s original movies. Kong is still being kidnapped and removed from his home
by greedy humans, and Godzilla remains a radioactive engine of death, albeit a
less-threatening one than before due to his growing popularity with children at
the time. Toho took this shift in Godzilla’s audience into account during the
production of KK vs. G, and as a
result, the movie took on a more light-hearted tone compared to the two
previous Godzilla films (Hollings 120).
What is
especially interesting about KK vs. G is
that it is an excellent example of what this essay will refer to as a “versus
film.” Such films feature a battle or battles between two popular movie monster
icons. Like a marquee boxing matchup, such films are created by movie studios
for the sake of profiting from the public’s interest; when such icons are
pitted against each other, the passionate fans of either character will debate
which monster should win, all the way to their theater seats. The writers find
clever ways in which the two monsters in question can cross paths, playing off
of the “what-if” scenario that always manages to pique interest from the
consumers, whether it is presented in a book, film, video game, or television
show. Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man,
released in 1943 by Universal Studios, was one of the earliest examples of a “versus
film.”
The success of
more recent cinematic battle royales such as Freddy vs. Jason (2003) and Alien
vs. Predator (2004), as well as the television show “Deadliest Warrior,” provide
proof that the public thoroughly enjoys the idea of two larger-than-life characters
duking it out. This craving for such gladiatorial entertainment begs the
question: why? The answer may lie
within the self-awareness that exists in the core of every versus film. For
example, Freddy vs. Jason is a
crossover of the extremely popular horror film series’ Nightmare on Elm Street and Friday
the 13th. As such, the film not only serves as a battleground
for the silver-screen psychos Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees, but also for
the fans of their respective films. With all of the passion that a sports fan
will have for his or her favorite team, the fans of Freddy and Jason translate
their love for their favorite killer into a competitive game. In a twisted way,
the fans see themselves as Freddy and
Jason, and when one of them wins, the fans of that character perceive their own
victory. This psychological satisfaction is the very thing that the movie
studios hope to exploit, and KK vs. G is
no different.
Godzilla and Kong as terrifying equals |
As
with any film, one of the best ways to examine how KK vs. G was marketed both domestically and internationally is to
analyze the movie posters. In the film’s home country of Japan, the posters
fall into two distinct categories: one depicting Kong and Godzilla as equals,
and the other type that places Kong in a position of power over Godzilla. In
the former category, one poster shows the two adversaries standing next to each
other against a background of deep red. Japanese characters are emblazoned in
various sizes all over the poster, with the film’s title etched across the
bottom in an appropriately huge red font. Tucked in between the monsters and
blurbs is a city skyline aflame and several of the film’s human characters in
various states of anxiety. While it appears that the poster’s designer intended
for Godzilla to look as though he is facing Kong, the positioning of Kong
himself is neutral, albeit slightly canted toward Godzilla. The composition of
this particular poster is quite similar to that of mixed martial arts and
boxing posters that exist today; the information is attention grabbing and
conveys the idea that these two monsters are equals, and that this fight is a must see event.
Kong depicted with clear favoritism |
Curiously,
another Japanese poster is quite one-sided yet no less arresting: King Kong is
shown whipping a helpless Godzilla around by his tail in the middle of a
burning city. Below the adversaries is the Japanese title, drawn in an enormous
block-style font. Even though Godzilla looms large in the foreground, his tail
is drawn so that the eye naturally traces it back to the bulky Kong in the
background; this clearly shows a bias for Kong’s human-like qualities as well
as his brute strength. It is interesting that Kong, a well-known American
creation, is man-handling the fearsome nuclear antagonist of Gojira, a lesser known yet no less
completely Japanese character. Would not it be detrimental to Japan for Toho to
show fellow countryman Godzilla at the mercy of an American ape? Considering
Japan’s long-standing love for Kong, this favoritism is not all that
surprising. Further, Kong is a primate with human-like qualities, such as his
tendency to get drunk (off berry juice) and humorous attempts to charm women.
The humanization of Kong, coupled with his underdog status in standing against
a titanic radioactive reptile, instantly grants him the sympathies of the
audience. We must also remember that Gojira
was released merely eight years before KK
vs. G, and the atomic bombs were dropped only nine years before that. Even
though the 1962 Godzilla was being groomed to become a more child-friendly
figure, it seems as though his earlier holocaustic nature still resonated
strongly with the collective memory of the Japanese. This residual effect could
be the reason why Godzilla was portrayed purely as a villain one more time in
1962’s Mothra vs. Godzilla; it took
Godzilla at least four films until he became a hero.
Kong, on the
other hand, was already established as a tragic example of nature’s
exploitation nearly three decades previously in 1933. By 1962, Kong and his
story had time to resonate with the Japanese in a far more positive light; he
was not a cold killing machine like the bombs that Godzilla represented, but
instead a wonder of nature with the human-like capacity to love (i.e., his
infatuation with Ann Darrow) and to be misunderstood. By that logic, it is far
easier to sympathize with Kong, as he is the more human character of the two
combatants in KK vs. G. Honda takes
great care to give Kong his “beauty shots” throughout the film in a multitude
of close-ups and poses. This idea is evident during the scene involving Kong
battling a giant octopus on Faro Island. When Tako’s men and the island natives
are attacked by the massive mollusk, Kong arrives in almost heroic fashion,
proudly pounding his fists against his chest, making his first appearance in KK vs. G homage to his RKO origin. The
camera then provides a series of cuts showing close-ups of the intruding
octopus and Kong, who begins throwing boulders and logs at the creature. What
is fascinating about this sequence is the psychology of film that Honda is
expertly exploiting; by juxtaposing medium and close-up shots of the octopus
and Kong, Honda is already appealing to the sympathies of the audience. Kong is
human-like not only in his appearance and movements, but also by his use of the
rocks and logs as weapons. The octopus, like Godzilla, is far more alien in
appearance, so the audience will naturally be repulsed by it. Further, the
octopus’s attack on the village establishes the creature’s villainous nature as
something inherent to the non-human, a threat from outside the boundaries of
compassion. Because of this menace, the audience’s bias for Kong intensifies,
as he is now seen as the hero who must remove the villain from the minds of the
audience. After the octopus leaps onto Kong’s head, it begins smothering the
ape with a slimy bouquet of wriggling tentacles, which leads to the camera
cutting to a close-up of Kong’s face. Clearly expressing frustration at the tenacity
of the eight-armed beast, Kong growls defiantly, inviting the audience to share
in his annoyance. After removing the mollusk from his head, Kong pelts the
giant animal with more rocks for good measure. As the octopus retreats, the
camera cuts to Kong as he leans forward and growls several times, taunting the
defeated ocean-dweller much like a victorious boxer mocking his opponent.
Through the use
of point-of-view focalization, Honda conveys humor to strengthen the audience’s
affection for Kong in the subsequent berry-drinking scene. After the ape pounds
his chest in triumph, he lazily gazes toward the ground, searching for the
berry juice that the octopus was seeking during its attack. The camera cuts to
Kong’s eye-line match, slowly surveying a ruined storehouse before suddenly
zooming in – interpreted as excitement – on several containers brimming with
the red juice. The close-ups of Kong’s hands quickly grabbing the ampules add
to the perception of Kong’s excitement, which gives way to the close-ups of
Kong drunkenly gulping the juice down. The facial close-ups are comical and overwhelmingly
goofy, since it is clear that in this shot, Kong is nothing more than a hand
puppet. The resulting effect on the viewers will not only be a reaction of
laughter (after all, Toho intended for the film to appeal to children as well
as adults), but of sympathy as well. Kong, a fierce and heroic figure only
moments before, is reduced to nothing more than a “regular joe” enjoying a few
drinks “after work,” helping to establish Kong as “one of us.”
However, Kong’s
sympathetic nature did not seem to have translated across the Pacific, at least
in terms of marketing strategy. Unlike their Japanese counterparts, the American
posters for KK vs. G almost always
show Godzilla and Kong in the midst of battle, a far more direct and violent
depiction. This time, it is the visitor getting the upper hand over the
hometown hero: front and center is Godzilla blasting away at Kong with his
radioactive breath while the two foes juggle train cars and power lines as if
they were toys. While this can easily be written off as creative freedom, it is
curious that the American posters favor Godzilla over Kong. Perhaps the
American artists saw the exotic nature of Godzilla as a far more attractive
selling point; as a giant fire-breathing lizard, Godzilla is far less
human-like than Kong, and it could be that American sympathies lay with
Godzilla on a more superficial level rather than a commonality with the
audience. Or, on a subconscious level, Godzilla represented the positive side
of nuclear power to the American public. With atomic energy seen as a potential
source of energy for cars, warships, and power plants, it is possible that
Godzilla was viewed as hip as a Ford Mustang, especially by the younger crowd.
A more negative
possibility is that Kong’s character tugged at the guilt that Americans felt
about slavery, a shame that maintains itself in America even today. As Paul Di
Filippo suggests, “King Kong is a
film about racism. Specifically, the American experience of slavery and its
aftermath” (135). KK vs. G follows in
that film’s footsteps in a more subdued – but no less poignant – manner by
recycling the methods used by the humans to capture and transport Kong in King Kong: Kong is drugged, kidnapped,
and brought to a foreign land in chains via the sea. “Kong is the black man in
America,” (135) says Di Fillippo, and although Kong is brought to Japan in this
case, the effect is still the same. What makes Kong so potentially unappealing to
American audiences is the fact that he escapes from his bonds before arriving on the mainland. The
scene in question has Kong waking up from his drugged state on a raft being
towed to Japan by one of Tako’s ships; the ape struggles against his
restraints. Tako and his men argue over whether to blow Kong up with dynamite,
prompting Tako to state “King Kong is my responsibility, and you have no right
to destroy him!” to which an underling replies “You want publicity! Publicity!”
Tako’s concern denotes his fear of losing an investment or a commodity rather
than his ethical credibility. To the American subconscious, Kong’s early escape
represents a deviation from an established story, destroying the American
comfort zone with the promise of retribution from the enslaved. Just as
Godzilla represented the fear of nuclear annihilation for the Japanese, Kong served
as a kind of bogeyman, a symbol of oppression and forced servitude that pulled
subliminally on the American subconscious. This guilt can explain why the
American poster for KK vs. G features
favoritism toward Godzilla. When looking at the poster with this perspective,
it seems as though Godzilla is desperately fending Kong off rather than
gleefully spewing his dragon-breath. Within the urgency to keep Kong – the
memory of slavery – at bay, it seems appropriate that Americans would cling to
an atomic weapon like Godzilla’s breath in order to maintain a feeling of
security. After all, the threat of nuclear Armageddon was very real in 1962,
and one of the only reassurances that Americans had during this time was that
the United States’ own nuclear arsenal served as a deterrent against an attack
from foes like the Soviet Union. In addition to slavery, Kong represents an
external threat to Americans; he does hail from a Pacific island. In this
manner, he is analogous to Japan itself. How morbidly appropriate it is, then,
that the American poster features an atomic weapon – Godzilla – blasting away
at a furious, encroaching Kong.
In the film’s
final confrontation between Godzilla and Kong, the two mortal enemies maintain
the appeal they had to Japanese and American cultures as portrayed on the movie
posters. For example, once Kong is brought to meet Godzilla via giant hot air
balloons, he slides into the reptile, knocking Godzilla down. In their earlier
confrontation, Kong was easily defeated by Godzilla’s nuclear fire. In this
battle, Kong wisely retreats early on; while the audience may perceive this as
cowardly at first, the act of cowardice itself is immediately recognizable as
human. In reality, Kong is setting his foe up for an ambush, a guerilla tactic.
A close-up of Kong’s face relays to the audience that Kong has a plan this time
as he slowly turns his head, his jaw loose in concentration. Godzilla follows
the retreating Kong, and the wily ape leaps out from behind a cliff, latching
onto Godzilla’s tail. After losing his grip, Kong resorts to throwing boulders,
harkening back to his conflict with the octopus; sure enough, the same basic
editing pattern from the early fight is reused here, suggesting that Godzilla
is just as inhuman and alien as the octopus was. The pattern continues with
Godzilla mirroring the octopus’s counterattack, this time in the form of atomic
breath. The exchange of projectile weapons is followed by grappling; in a
reversal of the octopus locking onto Kong’s head, Kong himself initiates a
grapple with Godzilla. This technique, coupled with occasional commentary by
Japanese characters observing the fray (“Kong! Hold his tail!”), builds upon
the sympathy for Kong that was already established, and since the audience has
been “trained” to perceive Kong as a relatable figure, the final effect
confirms the notion that he is indeed the film’s hero, as intended by Toho.
----------------------------
Works Cited
Ackerman, Forrest J. "Return of Kong." Spacemen
(1963): 52-56.
Alien vs. Predator. Dir. Paul W.S. Anderson. 20th Century Fox. 2004.
Di Filippo, Paul. "The Myth Goes Ever Downward:
The Infantization, Electrification, Mechanization, and General Diminishment of
King Kong." Kong Unbound. Ed. Karen Haber. New York, NY: Pocket
Books, 2005. 130-147.
Edo Ni Arawareta Kingu Kongu. Dir. Soya Kumagai. Zensho Cinema. 1938.
Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man. Dir. Roy William Neill. Universal Studios. 1943.
Freddy vs. Jason. Dir. Ronny Yu. New Line Cinema. 2003.
Gojira. Dir.
Ishiro Honda. Toho. 1954.
Hollings, Ken. "King Kong Appears in Edo: The
Toho Kong Years." Woods, Paul A. King Kong Cometh! London: Plexus
Publishing Limited, 2005. 118-124.
King Kong.
Dir. Merian C. Cooper. RKO Radio Pictures. 1933.
King Kong vs. Godzilla. Dir. Ishiro Honda. Toho. 1962.
Morton, Ray. King Kong: The History of a Movie Icon.
New York: Applause Theater and Cinema Books, 2005.
Mothra vs. Godzilla. Dir. Ishiro Honda. Toho. 1964.
Son of Kong.
Dir. Ernest B. Schoedsack. RKO Radio Pictures. 1933.
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