Guest writer Adrian Ho reviews Gamera: Guardian of the Universe, celebrating the charm and campy appeal of the kaiju film.

Godzilla first debuted in Ishirō Honda’s eponymous 1954 film and has since become a pop culture icon. Transcending the boundaries of cinema, the monster has appeared in video games, novels, comic books, and television shows, and even exists as a life-sized landmark attraction in Shinjuku, based on an appearance in Godzilla vs. Mothra (1992). Despite a diverse cast of kaiju alongside Godzilla, the creature has undeniably become the “King of the Monsters”, whether it comes to box-office numbers or cultural significance. In hopes of challenging the success of Toho’s Godzilla film franchise, Daiei Film created Gamera, a prehistoric jet-powered space turtle, which debuted in Gamera, The Giant Monster (1965). Gamera never managed to take the crown from Godzilla, but has become a cultural icon in its own right. 

The first of a trilogy directed by Shūsuke Kaneko, Gamera: Guardian of the Universe (1995) rebooted the franchise and ushered in the Heisei period of the Gamera films. In the current film climate, where Godzilla is no longer synonymous with Toho and actors in rubber suits rampaging on miniature sets, but rather its own MonsterVerse with gonzo blockbusters that typically devolve into a massive blur of CGI in its final act, Gamera offers a much-needed alternative. Despite its second-rate special effects in a contemporary age of flawless special effects, Gamera is pure pulp fiction. It’s a film that invents charm through its utter goofiness, and an outlandish camp experience that offers just about the best entertainment films can provide. Gamera, according to conventional tastes, may not be considered a good film. Forget taste, what about fun? 

Gamera begins with a dual narrative of investigations as inexplicable incidents occur throughout Japan, opening with a ship carrying plutonium running aground from a mysterious atoll and a village in the Goto Archipelago reportedly attacked by a “giant bird”. The atoll turns out to be Gamera, who has awakened from its deep slumber in the sea to stand against the shadow of evil, Gyaos. Gamera is light, breezy, and propulsive, and it doesn’t take long before the titular creature clashes with Gyaos, causing citywide destruction and kicking off the thrilling kaiju action. Their first encounter happens amidst a ludicrous plot cooked up by the government to capture the ancient birds in a baseball stadium – a moment that reveals the campy nature of the film. Moments like these, alongside prophecies of good and evil, and a psychic connection shared between Gamera and a highschool teenager, add a level of satisfaction that only a full-throated genre film can achieve. 

There’s a moment in every blockbuster where I find myself either dissociating from the action onscreen, everything turning into white noise until the credits roll, or I physically find myself shifting towards the screen, eyes glued, drawn into the action. Most of what Hollywood pushes out, including its latest Godzilla franchise fodder, Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire (2024), make my eyes glaze over and turn towards apathy. Gamera, instead, in its third-act clash of titans, reminds me of a simpler time, achieving the wondrous effect of turning film back into a medium of illusion and magic. Even with knowledge of suitmation and miniature cityscapes, of wire-work and puppetry, Gamera still maintains its illusion and, conversely, charms with its old-school practical effects. 

There is, strictly speaking, no need for human characters in Gamera, but their function in the film is a reminder of human intervention and the destruction of our planet at our own hands. Godzilla began as a metaphor for nuclear weapons, and Gamera extends the fears of nuclear annihilation to warn of environmental destruction and corporate greed. In this way, Gamera provides value beyond just its ability to entertain. If you ask me, I’m sick of Godzilla, especially in its cynical 21st Century franchise form, and, secretly, I wonder whether Gamera: Guardian of the Universe can provide us with a template for a better, more intentioned, blockbuster. Could Gamera rise again to save us from the onslaught of mediocre kaiju films? Who knows, but at the very least, we can revisit Gamera: Guardian of the Universe to remind us of the magic of cinematic blockbusters. 

Gamera: Guardian of the Universe (1995) is the opening film for THis year's perspectives FILM FESTIVAL, which marks the singapore premiere of the film's 4k restoration.