******KAIJU-SIZED SPOILERS!******

As a kid, I was (and am) a huge fan of Japanese kaiju-eiga (giant monster) movies, such as the “Godzilla” films, Rodan, Mothra, “War of the Gargantuas,” and many others. It was during a random ‘4:30 Afternoon Movie’ that I caught an English-dubbed Japanese kaiju movie called “Majin, the Monster of Terror,” and it was unlike any other I’d seen. The story took place in feudal Japan and had more in common with the character-driven samurai films of Akira Kurosawa than a typical, late-1960s Godzilla or Gamera film. The titular monster, seemingly inspired by the Jewish “Golem” legend, was a warrior god-demon that was awakened to end a despot’s reign. The final rampage didn’t even occur until the movie’s final minutes. More atmospheric and sophisticated than most, the film was simply known in its native Japan as “Daimajin” (1966).

Many years later, I would learn the “Daimajin” had a pair of sequels, or more accurately, sidequels (“The Return of Daimajin,” “The Wrath of Daimajin”), which were shot simultaneously by three different directors, using largely the same film crew. All three films were made for Daei Studios (the studio responsible for Godzilla-competitor “Gamera”) and scored by the legendary film composer Akira Ifubuke, who created the famed ‘Godzilla march,’ and did the music for many other movies, including several for the renowned director Kurosawa (whose filmography influenced everything from American westerns to the “Star Wars” movies).

About 12 years ago, I would buy all three “Daimajin” films on a 2-disc Blu-Ray set, and was eager to see them, particularly the one I vividly remembered from my childhood in the 1970s. For this retrospective, I revisited all three; watching them digitally projected onto an 80″/2 meter screen…

“Daimajin” (1966)

aka “The Devil Got Angry,” “The Vengeance of the Monster,” “Majin, the Monster of Terror”

In feudal Japan, villagers are terrified by earthquakes they believe to be caused by the anger of “Daimajin,” a spirit trapped in a mountain. While the villagers ritually pray, Lord Hanabasa is betrayed by his chamberlain, Samanosuke, who–along with his henchmen–slaughter the Lord and Lady in a bloody coup. Hanabasa’s son and daughter escape–with assistance from loyal samurai Kogenta, and priestess, Shinobu. After Samanosuke’s henchmen forbid gatherings at the shrine, Shinobu takes the two children to a forbidden territory near the haunted mountain where the statue (and spirit) of Daimajin rests. Ten years later, the prince and princess, Tadafumi (Yoshihiko Aoyama) and Kozasa (Miwa Takada) still live in exile with guardians Kogenta and Shinobu. Samanosuke fails to heed Shinobu’s warning about angering the gods, and she’s killed. With the villagers enslaved, Samanosuke attempts to destroy the Daimajin statue to end its power over them. To save her brother, Kozasa and a young orphaned boy pray to Daimajin. The idol awakens, revealing a living face. It rises from the mountain, bringing its wrath upon Samanosuke and his henchman, while freeing Tadafumi and Kogenta from execution. Daimajin’s rampage escalates beyond vengeance to threaten innocent villagers, but its wrath ends when Kozasa’s tears for mercy land at its feet.

Note: “Daimajin” (1966) was directed by Kimiyoshi Yasuda (“Adventures of Zatoichi”) and begins with an almost Shakespearean tale of a benevolent ruler betrayed and killed, whose fleeing children survive. Screenwriter Tetsurô Yoshida (who wrote all three “Daimajin” movies) was also a “Zatoichi” veteran, which gives both the swordplay and the movie’s backstory a surprisingly human core. Rewatching this movie for the first time in about a decade or more, it was instantly gripping.

Note: With her deliberately blackened teeth and deep relation to the haunted mountain where Daimajin resides, the priestess Shinobu (Otome Tsukimiya) might be seen by western audiences as a sinister old crone, but that mischaracterization couldn’t be further from the truth. Shinobu acts as both teacher and mother-figure to the orphaned Hanabasa children. Shinobu’s blackened teeth were an ancient custom for older married women, priestesses, or women of prestige (usually done to preserve dignity by masking aging, yellowing teeth). The practice was eventually outlawed in 19th century Japan.

Note: There is an almost “Hamlet” element to the story of the young prince seeking to avenge his murdered father, but of course, that’s a common enough trope in countless other stories and movies. Like the writer, director and other actors in the film, actor Yoshihiko Ayoama is also a veteran of Zatoichi movies (“Zatoichi’s Cane Sword,” “Zatoichi in Desperation”).

Note: The key to the story is the exiled princess Kozasa (Miwa Takada) whose tears of pleading and later for mercy respectively rouse and quell the wrathful demon-god Daimajin. The orphaned boy she befriends is only credited as “The Boy,” and is played by child actor Shizuhiro Deguchi, whose only other listed credit is “The Magic Serpent” (1966).

Note: Up until this point, the movie is more of a feudal-era drama, but the rampage of Daimajin (played by baseball player Chikara“Riki” Hoshimoto) is when the movie really kicks into high gear. Whooshing through the air as a ball of energy, the reanimated statue’s arrival is heralded by a stormy red sky and powerful winds, which provide a suitably dramatic backdrop. The vengeful demon-god has an iron stake driven into its helmet by Samanosuke’s men earlier, which will come in handy later…

Note: The villainous despot Samanosuke makes for a perfectly despicable villain, and is played to the hilt by Ryûtarô Gomi (1933-2013), who has a lengthy list of movie credits, including several “Zatoichi” movies, “Lone Wolf and Cub: Sword of Vengeance,” and many TV shows. The actor (apparently) retired from show business sometime in the early 1980s.

Note: The scale of Daimajin varies a bit from shot to shot, but what makes it such an effective kaiju is that its scale is a lot closer to that of a human than say, Godzilla, or Gamera. It never seems much taller than 40 ft (12 m) or so, making its violence against Samanosuke’s men feel much less abstract and more personal. The use of wiggling puppets and dolls in the grip of Daimajin’s hand or dangling from crucifixes in wide shots as it approaches are exceptionally well done for a 1960s movie.

Note: The movie also makes excellent use of forced perspective shots from high cranes to give us Daimajin’s perspective. There was even a large prop of Daimajin used on set for certain scenes, which is identifiable by its limited movement and doll-like eyes, which subtly betray its realism (though easily overlooked on a smaller screen). The movie’s special effects (including optical compositing and other techniques) are credited to Yoshiyuki Kuroda (1928-2015), and are on a par with work seen in more popular kaiju movie franchises of the time.

Note: One of the themes of the movie is the danger of power and vengeance, and how it can quickly escalate into something destructive for all. Daimajin liberators the villagers and returns the rightful heir to power, but its destructive potential remains… and would be liberated twice more that same year in two other films; “Return of Daimajin” and “Wrath of Daimajin,” directed by Kenji Misumi and Kazuo Mori, respectively.

“Return of Daimajin”

The statue of Daimajin now resides on an island in the middle of a lake between two peaceful villages, Chigusa and Nagoshi. In a nearby mountainous village ruled by the despotic lord Danjo, the citizens flee to seek refuge in Chigusa. Danjo seizes the two peaceful villages during a festival, using a Trojan’s Horse-style ruse, with soldiers posing as peasants bearing tribute. Fleeing the warlord’s forces, the people of Chigusa and Nagoshi seek the help of the Daimajin statue. Danjo arrives and immediately orders the statue destroyed with massive amounts of gunpowder, with its pieces tossed into the lake. However, the angry Daimajin reassembles, rises from the water, and attacks Danjo and his forces, who are destroyed. After liberating Chigusa and Nagoshi, Daimajin briefly reverts back into a statue before dissolving into water.

Note: The Daimajin movies offer nods to Jewish, Japanese, Norse and even Greek mythologies, with a Trojan Horse-style ruse, as Danjo’s soldiers hide in sacks of rice, offered as tribute. Actor Takashi Kando (1918-1986) really hams it up Danjo, though his real-estate grab of neighboring Chigusa and Nagoshi feels less personally motivated than the duplicitous Samanosuke in the prior film.

Note: This is the first time we see tangible manifestations of Daimajin’s power occurring before his actual appearance–with rocks in the water rising like fingers to stop a boatload of Danjo’s soldiers from approaching the shore of God island.

Note: Princess Sayuri’s near-immolation evokes the image of French soldier/heroine Jeanne d’Arc (Joan of Arc). Of course, the flames are juuust far enough away from her actual body to make her imminent rescue by Daimajin possible. Sayuri was played by Shiho Fujimura (1939-2025), a prominent Japanese actress who costarred in several “Zatoichi” movies (like most actors in this trilogy), as well as films such as “The Snow Woman” (1968) and “The Sleepy Eyes of Death” (1964). She passed away just this year at age 86.

Note: While all three “Daimajin” movies were written by Tetsurō Yoshida, each have entirely different mythologies for their demon-god, not unlike the more recent Godzilla movies. In “Return of Daimajin,” the mountain-based god-demon is located on a small island between two peaceful villages. This juxtaposition allows images such as the stony god rising whole from a parted sea; a visual seemingly inspired by Charlton Heston’s Moses in 1956’s “The Ten Commandments.”

Note: While the rampage features the typically ominous, booming footsteps of the giant, stony god-demon’s approach, there are new ideas added as well, such as Danjo’s men using stone barricades and crates of gunpowder in their desperate attempts to stop it. None are successful, of course.

Note: Unlike the whoosh of energy that heralded Daimajin’s arrival and departure in the first film, director Kenji Misumi and special effects supervisor Yoshiyuki Kuroda showed the wrathful stone-god dissolving peacefully into the water from which it previously rose–a nice combination of dissolves, animation and compositing water effects.

“Wrath of Daimajin”

The Daimajin idol stands atop a cursed mountain. Another evil lord abducts men from a village, forcing them to work in the sulfurous Hell’s Valley labor camp for his secret military project. Four young sons of the abducted men set out to rescue them, having to cross the cursed mountain of the god, Daimajin. Pursued by samurais, the boys stop to pay respects to Daimajin (and its hawk avatar), in order to grant them safe passage. Answering the boys’ prayers, the Daimajin statue is reanimated, and unleashes its wrath upon the overseers of the Hell’s Valley labor camp. Three of the surviving four children and their fathers are reunited, after the despotic lord is killed and his brutal labor camp is destroyed. Daimajin reverts back into a statue.

Note: By now, the trilogy’s formula is set in stone; another despot enslaves another group of villagers, etc. However, the “Daimajin” movies are less about the stories and more about the specifics. In “Wrath of Daimajin,” the enslaved villagers are all working age men from a neighboring village–including fathers and brothers, which prompts their small sons and kid brothers to act as their rescuers.

Note: The sulfur pits offer a particularly grisly–and smelly–mode of execution for disobedient abductee laborers, and which features prominently in the brutal death of war lord Hidanokami (Tôru Abe) later on. Filmed on an indoor soundstage, the bubbling yellow pit looks convincing enough, though the too-perfectly timed steam jets betray its artificial origin.

Note: The child actors carry much of the movie on their small backs. Actors Hideki Ninomiya (“Tsurukitchi”), Shinji Hori (“Daisaku”), Muneyuki Nagatomo (“Sugitatsu”) and Masahide Iizuka (as the ill-fated “Kinta”) all deliver solid performances with their “Stand by Me”-like story, as the four boys travel across a haunted mountain to rescue the men of their village. Though director Kazuo Mori shoots a bit too much footage of the boys simply walking through the woods (and movie-snow covered soundstages), the young actors all create memorable characters.

Note: As we saw in “Return of Daimajin,” there are external signs of the stone deity’s power, even in its dormant state. In this case, a hawk avatar (first mentioned in a warning to the boys from an old woman) acts as the mountain god’s eyes and even protector. When the hawk is shot by a pack of rogue samurais pursuing the boys, blood streams down the inert statue’s face in empathy. Upon the statue’s eventual transformation, it uses golden energy streams to resurrect its fallen hawk avatar, which the boys thoughtfully buried in snow.

Note: Perhaps because it was the final movie in this non-continuous trilogy, this Daimajin rampage goes on a bit longer than the others, lasting for a good twenty or so minutes. For a more ‘child-friendly’ film, the death sentence imposed upon the villainous Hidanokami is particularly personal and grisly, as the giant god-demon pulls its massive warrior’s sword from its sheath and impales the despot against a mountain before tossing his dead body into the sulfur pit (!). There’s also a bloody closeup as Daimajin’s large stony feet stomp a man’s head into the snow. Nowhere near “Friday the 13th”-levels of bloody gore, though just a tad more graphic than the two prior films.

Note: The finale sees the three surviving boys reuniting with their fathers, yet no mention is made of the fallen Kinta. A glaring oversight in an otherwise satisfying film.

The End.

Summing It Up

In each of the three Golem-inspired “Daimajin” movies, an evil despot creates an intolerably unjust climate that forces impoverished villagers to seek justice from the wrathful god-demon, Daimajin. The End. The movies were overseen by three different directors sharing the same film crews, and even shared composer Akira Ifukube (whose scores for these films are very similar to his music in 1966’s “War of the Gargantuas”). The differences lie in the details. The first film is about a benevolent ruler’s betrayal, the second is a Trojan Horse invasion story, and the third is about several young boys trekking across dangerous woods seeking help for their enslaved fathers. The settings are different as well (mountains, seaside village, etc). All three films end with the resurrected Daimajin warrior-god acting as judge, jury and executioner–bringing biblical justice to the wicked. There is no shared continuity or recurring characters in the trilogy. Just three different takes on the same general idea.

While each movie doesn’t feature the titular being’s wrath until its final moments, there is usually enough feudal-Japanese drama (much of it quite involving) to carry the films until then. Though none of the movies run over 90 minutes, short attention-spanned viewers might feel a bit taxed by protracted moments of characters walking, suffering villagers, or monologuing despots. However, the actors really put their backs into it, particularly the hammy villains. Given the amount of swordplay and feudal-era combat, it’s not surprising the trilogy’s directors and many of its actors worked in the “Zatoichi” movies & TV shows. The action-packed rampages at the end of each movie certainly compensate for their slower middle acts. Imaginative special effects reign supreme in those rampages too, with various combinations of special effects, including forced perspective, blue-screen compositing, scale sets/props, and articulated dolls. All of it well crafted for movies made nearly sixty years ago.

The admittedly formulaic “Daimajin” trilogy has a storybook-feel, with bits of ancient Japanese customs, mythology and folklore sprinkled throughout the three movies. Combined with decent character drama, hiss-worthy villains and imaginative special effects wrapped in haunting Akira Ifukube scores, each of the films works well enough on its own. However, the first film is easily the strongest, offering the best message of the three; seeking vengeance, even in the name of justice, will often go too far. One needs wisdom to cork the genie back into the bottle. That’s an added layer missing from the other two films, and which elevates the first above them.

For fellow kaiju fans seeking something other than nuclear-powered monsters leveling skyscrapers in downtown Tokyo, the “Daimajin” trilogy offers a more mythical, less atomic-age alternative. These relatively short movies feature just enough swordplay and feudal-era dramatics to keep most viewers onboard until their explosive finales, which are worth the wait. Enjoy!

Where to Watch

Finding streaming copies of the 1966 “Daimajin” movies is a bit of a hunt; I’ve seen the trilogy streaming from different channels on YouTube, but usually in English-dub versions. For the finest quality version, Arrow Video (one of the premier boutique Blu-Ray manufacturers) has the entire trilogy available in a deluxe Blu-Ray set. The trilogy is also available in a less-expensive 2-disc Blu-Ray from Mill Creek Entertainment, which is the version I bought in Little Tokyo about 12 years ago. Both sets are available from Amazon. Good hunting!