Classic Cinema

Saturday Matinee | Godzilla: King of Monsters

Welcome to our first ever Blog-In theater.

Thanks to the treasure trove of public domain movies I have found on Video.Google, I am going to make it a point for us to have a culturekitchen Saturday Matinée; followed up by a Sunday afternoon chat.

This is the original eco-terrorist and nuclear mutant-freak Godzilla; not the saviour of Japan reinvented in the 1960s. It has a very young Raymond Burr as, Steve Martin (the irony!) the American documentarian of this iguanadonian catastrophe. It oozes post-WW2 cheeziness through each reel hole.

What is most interesting about this first Godzilla is how it was made. There is a 1954 Japanese original. This is the 1956 American adaptation; which may well be the first successful film mashup ever produced in this country:

The adaptation process consisted of filming numerous new scenes featuring Raymond Burr and others, and inserting them into an edited version of the Japanese original to create a new film. The new scenes, written by Al C. Ward and directed by Terry Morse, were photographed by Guy Roe with careful attention to matching the visual tone of the Japanese film, while Burr's on-screen character appeared to interact with the original Japanese cast through intricate cutting and the use of doubles for the Japanese principals, in matching dress, shot from behind in direct interaction with Burr's character. (This same technique was used 29 years later in the film Godzilla 1985, with Raymond Burr reprising his original role of reporter Steve Martin.)


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The truth is that as a woman, a woman of color, and specifically an African American woman, the insults come so fast and furious that there’s always the danger of becoming overwhelmed and de-sensitized.

Sad to say, but I’m used to hearing black and brown women being call “bitch” “ho” “skank” “skeazer” “gold digger” or some variation of all of the above in popular songs and music videos. “Norbit,” Eddie Murphy’s current movie, may be the most recent example of a black man putting on a dress and playing the fat, ignorant, loud, brown-skinned black woman as an object of ridicule and revulsion, you can bet it won’t be the last. And check out “Flavor of Love,” VH1’s hit show in which women demean themselves in an effort to get Flava Flav - brought beneath low since his high as a member of the seriously political rap group Public Enemy - to choose them.

What these three have in common is that they demean black women, earn handsome profits for their corporate sponsors, and for the most part exist devoid of criticism.


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