Even though it has been several months since the premiere of Godzilla Minus One, the fallout dust resulting from warm reception of the film across the globe has not settled yet. In January, the movie was re-released in Japan and the USA in a special version called Godzilla Minus One/Minus Color. What is more, the film received 12 nominations at the 47th Japan Academy Film Prize, and a nomination for Best Visual Effects at the 96th Academy Awards. In consequence Minus One is the first Godzilla production to be nominated for an Oscar(!) I have already praised the film in review last month, so I am not going to repeat my comments. The reason why I am writing today’s post is to praise the mastermind behind Minus One: Takashi Yamazaki, the ultimate die-hard fan of King of the Monsters. Yesterday, I accidentally spotted on Youtube an interview Yamazaki gave to Rotten Tomatoes and it absolutely made my day. Apart from having custom-made shoes, he had the audacity to bring with himself a Godzilla action figure. He is such a sweet fan boy who is not ashamed of his love for the franchise!
Evidently, Yamazaki poured his heart and soul into making Godzilla Minus One, not only as a writer and director, but also as a VFX supervisor, which (according to FX artists) really shortened the chain of command on a blockbuster production and smoothed the production process (source). In an interview, Yamazki says that he is open to the possibility of making “Godzilla Minus Two”, and I think Academy Awards offer the director a solid platform to convince Toho for one more shot at making a Godzilla flick. When I cooled down after reviewing Minus One, I would personally love to see Yamazaki’s take on a sequel in a time when Japan is rebuilding itself after World War II, but I would like the story to focus on entirely new characters. Please don’t bring the old gang because they deserved the happy ending!
This brings me to the Rotten Tomatoes question that was brought up in the interview. It is clear that Yamazaki has a lot of reverence for Christopher Nolan and Oppenheimer, and when the director was asked about the potential international casting choices for a new Godzilla film, he eloquently responded that the Oppenheimer cast was very talented (without giving any specific names). I know that Yamazaki was very gracious and careful with his answer, but this Oppenheimer touch really set my mind going for a potential Oppenheimer x Godzilla crossover. How crazy that could be? I know this is just fanboying, but nothing will deny the fact that Oppenheimer and Godzilla Minus One ruled the cinemas in 2023. Both movies focused on the themes of nuclear weapons, destruction, and morality of man in their own unique ways.
To end this text, allow me to say that during one of my high school lessons, I allowed students to ask me various questions in English. One student asked me on a whim “Have you seen Godzilla Minus One?” convinced that I haven’t seen the film, but I answered positively, his eyes lit up and shouted, “This is the greatest film of 2023!” and that remark comes from a 15-year-old. To sum up, I salute you Takashi Yamazaki, your movie has transcended countries, languages, and generations in its quest to creep into the hearts of Godzilla fans across the world. You are the greatest of all.
*Feature image source. The remaining pictures used are promotional photos of Godzilla Minus One.
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Men always seem to think about their past before they die, as though they were frantically searching for proof that they truly lived. ~ Jet Black
As promised last week, I am back with my blog post about the popular anime series from the late 1990s: Cowboy Bebop. Well, better late than never. Cowboy Bebop was part of my introduction into the realm of anime over 10 years ago, and I have been meaning to write about this show for a long time. However, as in the case of GTO, I avoided doing it because this show is such an all-time classic. To be honest, I regard Cowboy Bebop together with Outlaw Star and Trigun as the Holy Trinity of the animated space western genre. However, all three series exhibit radically idiosyncratic styles. I mentioned in my special review of Outlaw Star that I have some issues with Cowboy Bebop, and today allow me to explain what I meant. Whereas Outlaw Star (and Trigun) seem very modernist and traditional with their approach towards the concept of a hero and his journey (the monomyth), Cowboy Bebop, in contrast, appears to be a deeply postmodernist show. It is, in fact, a disjointed, freewheeling story about a too-cool-for-school bounty hunter who is unable to escape his own past.
First things first, so let’s briefly summarise what the show is about. It was originally conceived by Shinichiro Watanabe and the creative staff led by him in Sunrise animation studio. Bebop presents us with a not-so-distant future, namely the year 2071 in which Earth is almost uninhabitable due to a hyperspace gateway incident. As a result, humanity has colonised the rest of the Solar System, which unfortunately led to skyrocketing crime rates. In consequence, the Inter Solar System Police authorised the profession of bounty hunters (aka Cowboys) who catch criminals alive and return them to law enforcement for financial reward. Spike Spiegel, Jet Black, Faye Valentine, Ed, and Ein accidentally form the bounty hunting crew of a ship called Bebop. It is difficult for me to explain why, but I felt the need recently to revisit Cowboy Bebop. I tried to do this a few years ago (during the pandemic), but I tuned out after a couple of episodes, bitterly labelling the show as dated (that’s how hardwired I am in my unconditional love for Outlaw Star). However, now, as a person who is over 30, I looked at the show in a different light. I really do not want to nitpick Cowboy Bebop, so let me say that after so many years, this anime is still great fun. I nearly forgot how good some of the episodes were, and the light-hearted storylines really brought a smile to my face, such as Stray Dog Strut, Gateway Shuffle, Toys in the Attic, Bohemian Rhapsody, and Wild Horses. This is exactly the type of cheerful, escapist entertainment I needed.
As a result, Cowboy Bebop really excels in the fun department and effortlessly hits the same strides as Outlaw Star and Trigun. However, what makes it truly different is the way in which the show handles the serious stuff. Evidently, we have stand alone episodes about the tragedies of side characters Spike encounters/has to fight, as in the case of Asteroid Blues, Sympathy for the Devil, Heavy Metal Queen, and Waltz for Venus. Spike confronts these characters in the fashion of 1980s action drama heroes (see Magnum PI) and these interactions, and their unfortunate fates, make him grow as a protagonist.
However, the whole seriousness concerning Spike’s personal past is just so stereotypical that it devours the enjoyment of Cowboy Bebop for me. Yes, I get it. Spike is a cool guy, so he was a criminal in the past, and he was in love, but the villain character of Vicious (to my mind) is way too exaggerated. Indeed, he has a cool introduction in the opera house, but it is all there is to his depth: showmanship. The show never made me care about Vicious. I can understand he was a caricature of John Woo’s bromance-charged villains, but things did get lost in translation, which ultimately renders Spike’s story arc flat for me. Nevertheless, Spike’s past is not the only concern of the show. Jet Black faces his own demons in Ganymede Elegy and Black Dog Serenade, and so does Faye Valentine in My Funny Valentine and Speak Like a Child. The way the supporting characters have to deal with their trauma is done perfectly. Time and time again, they try to avoid it, escape it, but the past eventually catches up with them and forces them to evaluate their identity. Jet and Faye really “carry that weight.” Still again, what about Spike? He confronts Vicious head on three times in the show, and this ultimately leads to his death. Perhaps the character truly needed this kind of bleak retribution (he wanted to know if he is alive), but I as an audience member did not. Spike choses death instead of carrying his weight (isn’t it cutting corners?), and this ultimately makes the show a downer, especially if you are a 30/40-something adult dealing with responsibilities of life.
So, here we are. Instead of a typical review, I blurted out my chain of incoherent thoughts about Cowboy Bebop. Thank you for reading, and if you have your own opinions about the series, feel free to share them. Hopefully, next week, I will try to discuss something else. In the meantime, Life is But a Dream and See You Space Cowboys.
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We cannot go back to the past, no matter how hard we try. No matter how wonderful it was. The past is nothing but the past. ~ Eikichi Onizuka
Hello and welcome to my first blog post of 2024 after a long-ish, six week break. First of all, I feel that I need to explain my absence. Evidently, I wanted to continue writing right after Christmas but a set of personal circumstances forced me to adjust my schedule. In addition, I did not have time (and I was not in the mood) to watch absolutely anything. In fact, throughout January, I managed to see some random stuff on TV and only one(!) movie, which was Amadeus (1984). What is more, there is one more important factor responsible for my absence that is connected with the topic of today’s editorial. That is to say, I have made a New Year’s Resolution to become a better teacher for my students. Yes, some of the readers may already know this from the context of my previous reviews and articles. I have been working as a high school teacher for two years now (previously I worked at a university), and it is a very challenging profession at times. Of course, everybody has a different perception of it, depending on their place of birth, but where I live, it is not a line of employment held in high esteem by society (but more on that later).
The beginning of the current school year was particularly challenging for me. Apart from regular teaching, I got an increase in work hours, I became a homeroom teacher to a class of first graders, and I also had to oversee a team of new teachers in terms of bureaucratic paperwork. The period between September and November was very exhausting for me, and I didn’t feel like a teacher at all, but more like an administrative official who had to mediate his way between students, teachers, and principals. Thankfully, things did calm down towards the end of December and I had some time to recharge my batteries and think clearly. It was at that time when I made a firm decision to limit the overbearing paperwork to an absolute minimum and focus primarily on regaining that teaching spark. I even began to re-educate myself, looking for the latest information on classroom management techniques and learning/acquisition strategies other than traditional textbook cramming.
This is where GTO comes in. For those of you who do not know, Great Teacher Onizuka is a popular Japanese franchise created by manga artist Tooru Fujisawa in 1997. It initially started with a 25-volume manga series that received subsequent continuations and iterations in other media. In 1998, it was turned into a J-Drama. In 1999, there was a theatrical movie as well as a 43-episode anime series. In 2012, GTO was remade again as a J-Drama by Fuji TV. The series tells the story of an ex-bosozoku gang member Eikichi Onizuka who barely finishes studies allowing him to become a teacher. He finds a job at a private middle school in Tokyo, and he is assigned to the most troublesome class. Nevertheless, Onizuka’s unconventional techniques quickly lead to changes in the mentalities of unruly students. To be honest, I am a fan of the whole franchise, but the 1998 series with Takashi Sorimachi stole my heart, and to date remains my favourite interpretation of GTO. I have been meaning to write about this drama on the blog for years, but I never felt I had anything innovative to say about this all-time classic. However, in this article, I would like to put it in perspective with regard to my work.
Consequently, when I was scavenging the abyss of the internet in search of information that might help me on my teaching journey, I stumbled upon a reddit discussion about the validity of techniques used by Onizuka-sensei. This discussion really got me thinking. Evidently, Onizuka is this larger-than-life, too-cool-for-school character with a deep sense of morality overshadowed by typical manga wackiness. However, it is difficult to see him do any actual teaching in the series(!) Yes, sometimes in the drama we see him holding a coursebook for social sciences, so at least we know what subject he is supposed to teach, but that is it! Ultimately, Onizuka’s teaching purpose is about conveying life wisdom to his students. He is not teaching them hard theory, but how to live a life. In this manner, Onizuka is yet another fictional teacher in the pantheon of mentor characters like John Keating, Mark Thackeray, and William Hundert who always strived to inspire their students and often treated them like adults. Perhaps this is the most uplifting takeaway from GTO for any struggling teacher: Onizuka persistently broke the stale teacher/student power dynamic, going out of his way to show his students that he does not look down on them.
Still again, “educational” techniques used by Onizuka to achieve his goal leave a lot to be desired. If I were to repeat them, I would certainly end up in jail for jeopardising the health and safety of my students by jumping off a roof, getting into a fight with bikers, busting into a student’s home with a sledgehammer, or playing chicken with a speeding truck. However, I wouldn’t mind wrecking the vice-principal's Toyota Cresta every week. Point of the matter is that you will not learn anything about classroom management techniques from GTO (you are better off watching Dragon Zakura instead); however, GTO teaches you about employing a different approach towards your students. Onizuka, in contrast to fellow peers in the teacher’s lounge, understands that teaching is actually a relationship game. Hating your students will not get you anywhere. You should make an effort and familiarise yourself with them, even when they are troublemakers. Remember their names, ask them about their interests. greet them at the beginning of every lesson, and say goodbye when they leave.
Kindness doesn't cost much, but for many teachers in my country it is an impossible feat. I know from experience that many (not all) teachers here are just in it for the money. They often lack necessary knowledge to conduct a subject, let alone conduct a proper class with beginning, middle, and end. This situation only fuels students’ unwillingness to learn. I know I can’t change the world, but at least I can work on bettering myself. All things considered, the past six weeks of teaching were extremely rewarding for me. This is not the time and not the place to get into personal specifics, but my adjusted approach resulted in many unexpected, kind-hearted situations with my students, and I feel really proud because of that. My thanks go to my dear friend @penel from MDL who was willing to patiently hear my stories.
So, coming back to the question of this editorial: Was Great Teacher Onizuka right? Well, he was definitely right about changing your perspective and attitude to your students. And this made me like the character even more. Thank you for sticking by, I did not think this editorial would be so long. Next week, I will try to write something related to Cowboy Bebop (hopefully)!
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