By Kevin Cooney
Translator: Issac
Proofreader: Onegin
Source: Diabolique
From politics to energy, Japan in the 1960s was propelled onto a new trajectory toward prosperity, while struggling to combat corruption and environmental degradation.
In a decade when politicians, criminals and pollutants dominated the headlines, director Shiro Honda made a series of monster movies that reflected or were inspired by the Japanese environment. His 1964 film ,Togora the Cosmic Monster was one such film that satirized the evils and terrible consumption of postwar Japanese society.
"Cosmic Monster Togora"
Admittedly, "Togora" is an unbalanced film, and there may be more detractors than fans. The plot of the film is simple: a high-altitude amoeba-like creature is exposed to radiation as it hovers over Japan. After destroying the satellite, the growing beast landed on Earth and floated above it, attacking carbon-rich resources.
In the film, the source of power and the object of desire are coal and diamonds. It's blatant irony, if not an exaggeration—the film's main plot revolves around a group of fashionable jewelry thieves, even though the headlines are about a floating jellyfish-like monster, Togora. The film is interesting not because of its perfect storytelling, but because it reflects the political and environmental conditions at the time of the film's release.
Most monster movies have fixed character types — soldiers, scientists, and politicians. Inevitably, scientists walk in front, followed by people behind.
In Togora, however, politicians are actually absent. The military took action, but remained subordinate to scientists. Thus, in the void left by the absence of politicians in the Kaiyuan era, we see the role of the criminals in Togorah — the agents of corrupt, incompetent, or greedy elected officials.
Politicians and industrialists live in circles known as chaebols. In the world of coal and diamond consumption in Togora, the absence of certain personality types requires a replacement. In Togora, if a farce is needed, Hondo inoshiro has a ready-made one in which he joins the Diamond Thief.
In Japanese gangster movies and film noir, such as Colt Is My Pass, Hondo inoshiru knocks his criminals to the ground.
"Colt is My Pass"
The bandits in "Togorah" have an exaggerated style and behave very corruptly, which can be seen by the audience at the time. In Yakuza: Japanese Criminal Underworld, David Kaplan and Alec Dublow write that the gangsters of that period drew inspiration from American cinema and "began to wear dark suits, dark shirts, and white ties." Sunglasses are necessary... To match their outfits, they put on a squinty look and a high-toed look."
The thieves in "Togorah" are more formal than actual, and the funny clowns are crushed by their greed. Cartoonish farce (including some burlesque skits about mobile thieves) has a dramatic flair for undermining those fabulous tough guys.
While Japanese movie fans love the various Japanese gangsters in the movie, daily headlines remind the public that these shameless gangsters retain power with brute force and illegitimate rewards.
A black fog of corruption descended on the islands in the form of a political bribery scandal. Japanese politicians have received illicit money from shipbuilders, fertilizer manufacturers and American airline Lockheed. With the help of industry and the underworld, Japanese politicians have continued a cycle of corruption known as the "black fog," a cycle that has defined Japan's politics for decades.
In order to materialize an amorphous monster, it is not surprising that Honta Inoshiro and special effects expert Eiji Marutani decided to create "Togora" on an ethereal mist and rising hazy asphalt pillar.
When the floating monster released the substance, the glowing rock would land on the ground, reminiscent of the nickname "Burning Stone" by coal in the seventeenth century. In Togora's design and its attacks, you can see hints that the black fog of corruption blends with the poor environmental conditions in Japan at the time.
To meet domestic electricity demand and factories, Japan's coal mining and imports have reached unprecedented heights. Like the fictional Togora, Japanese industry has turned its greedy eyes to coal. According to Conrad Tortman's Japan: An Environmental History, 42.7 million tons of coal were mined in Japan in 1955, and at its peak in 1960, about 51 million tons came from Japanese coal mines.
Imports will increase in areas where domestic mines are undersupplied. For more than two decades (1950-1970), Japan's annual coal imports increased from 800,000 tons to 50 million tons. Togora circled, sucking away every loose piece of coal like a vacuum cleaner, and becoming more and more powerful, seemingly unstoppable, reflecting the thirst for coal in contemporary Japan.
When this space monster appeared, its hazy whirlwind was reminiscent of the pollution and degradation of Japan at that time. The nation's thirst for coal energy means that the more coal resources mined underground, the higher the price.
In The Smoke of Great Cities, David Stradling and Peter Tolsheim describe British and American soot as symbols of "greed and ruthlessness." Beauty and health are sacrificed in pursuit of profit.
The same description can be applied to twentieth-century Japan. The suffocating gloom and destruction of the natural environment that accompanies the Togoletal is indirectly implied that the country's environment is the final victim.
In his book Transnational Japan In the Global Environmental Movement, Simon Afner points out that the economist Kenichi Miyamoto found that the impact of government underreporting pollution data was a national turning point.
According to Miyamoto, industrialized cities like the "ideal industrial city for sunshine and green space" are actually full of asthma cases and inedible fish. Wastewater was dumped on Ise Bay, and the sky over the city was filled with thick smog, described by Miyamoto as a "hellish sky."
Miyamoto exposed "corporate castles" such as the heavily polluted, coal-fueled Hachiman Iron Works, while declaring pollution the "king of human rights violations," exposing Japan's environmental corruption to the world. Air pollution was one of the hazards to Japan's environment in the 1950s and 1960s, and was particularly serious.
From toxic seawater, which causes bone calcium-destroying pain and pain, to minamata's congenital disability caused by pregnant women eating mercury-contaminated fish, Japan's emergence as the third-largest economy comes at the cost of life and nature.
WatchIng Togora through an environmental lens, images of hellish skies and black fog come together in the form of a monster of the same name. Broadly speaking, the film reflects the environmental, political, and economic problems facing Japanese society at the time.
Considering that it was shot on a limited budget and with dangerous production speeds, Togola may not be a good genre film, but it tries to be enjoyable. This is a testament to the creativity of Hondo Ino-Shiro and Toho Corporation, and a reward for those who seek subtle information in the most ordinary monster movies.