To this day, no film featuring King Kong has ever looked as good or been as thrilling as the original of 1933 with its stop-motion animation and black and white presentation. The overproduced green screen falsehood of Zack Snyder's '300' is laughably bad, and all the intended grandiosity and enormous budgets of the Marvel Cinematic Universe can't overcome the bland artifice (of film-making and storytelling like) that continues to grow ever more tiresome. In turn, whatever else might be true of this 1988 tokusatsu flick and the story it has to tell, it shouldn't be at all surprising that the effects extravaganza of the 80s is incredible, holding up better than can be said for many titles - with all the supposed advances in techniques and technology they may claim - that have followed in the past thirty-plus years. The post-production visuals that are added to filmed footage, less than seamless though they may be, look better and more believable than the preponderance of modern computer-generated imagery that major Hollywood studios can churn out. The instances of stop-motion animation are most welcome, a sight for sore eyes that is deeply missed in more recent years. And as the vast majority of all the visions to greet us in 'Tokyo: The last megalopolis' are practical effects and stunts, with props and creatures and set pieces that were physically fabricated in a shop and assembled for this production, the gratifying result is a gnarly, imaginative bonanza that all this time later continues to dazzle while its "state of the art" successors tend to wallow in the rapid obsolescence of their hollow digital contrivance.
It's just not about the flashiest aspects of the visual experience, either. Alongside real filming locations, physically constructed sets, and other tangible creations, at all times lighting and shadow are employed in a fashion that is natural and meaningful. The crisp, vivid contributions of cinematographer Nakabori Masao are all the richer as the man necessarily operates within a physical space, around real actors and set pieces, furthermore lending his keen eye as an artist to produce many shots and scenes that are genuinely beautiful and fetching as they present. Meanwhile, much has been made in recent years of how, for all the advances in technology, the fundamental audio of many modern pictures is dreadfully imbalanced, with the bassy rumble of sound effects and dramatic music drowning out dialogue, or anything in the mix that is more finessed or nuanced. Very simply, such concerns were never even conceived of a few decades ago, and every tidbit rings out clearly throughout the runtime of over two hours. While this might be a genre piece, and at that a somewhat truncated adaptation of more expansive source material, the cast nevertheless give wholehearted, spirited performances of range and depth befitting the progression of the narrative; it's amazing what actors can do, isn't it, when they are physically interacting with the world of the movie they're in? In much the same manner, it's not that Jissoji Akio's direction specifically stands out of its own accord, but it's tight and flavorful, ensuring that every beat, scene, idea, and sight is conjured with all due meaning, import, and awe.
In fact, for as smartly and terrifically well made as this is in truly ever other way, if there is any criticism to impart, it is only with the writing. And it's not that scribe Hayashi Kaizo is particularly at fault per se; rather, I'm inclined to believe that the issues of storytelling are simply what happens when one tries to adapt a much larger work of prose into another medium, with strictly determined parameters of length. We most certainly get the story of evil spirits and tyrants, a select few individuals who aim to protect the developing city of Tokyo and the developing nation of Japan, and the great battle of good and evil that ensues while weaving in facets of real history and culture. The details of that story are lost in the process, however, or sometimes just outright omitted to necessarily abridge the material in adaptation. Case in point: who are all these characters, and what exactly are their relationships to each other? Beats me. Some scenes and ideas needed to be significantly expanded and fleshed out so they could manifest, breathe, and resolve of their own accord, in the way that would be most impactful; some needed to be more carefully treated so that essential information - the who, what, when, where, why, and how - could be faithfully imparted. Still, the notions are there, and the screenplay remains plentifully sufficient to convey the broad strokes, and to above all to achieve the goal of the production. That goal, quite plainly, was an effects-laden spectacle of dark fantasy and horror. The finer points of the plot may be lost, and definitely in turn the full bearing of Aramata Hiroshi's novel, but Jissoji and co-producer Ichise Takashige are mostly just using these in the first place as a foundation for the feature's fanciful resplendence, so I can't be too upset.
Now, true enough, 135 minutes seem rather long at the same time that the saga absolutely needed a longer format to be ideally realized. If one wants a truly complete, absorbing, satisfying story, one is no more likely to find it in any part of the screenplay here than in the average modern superhero piece. The difference is that 'Tokyo: The last megalopolis' has no illusions of being something it's not, and in the ways that mattered most to the film, utmost skill, intelligence, and care were poured into making it the best cinematic experience it could be. With wonderful, gorgeous production design and art direction, sharp costume design, hair, and makeup, outstanding practical effects and stunts, excellent special effects, and more, this is unquestionably a feast for the eyes, and the fact that most everything we see herein is an element that we could hypothetically touch for ourselves only makes that feast all the more rewarding. I'm not saying that the picture is impeccable, or a must-see tour de force. What I am saying is that it knows what it is, and what it wanted to be, and that as a showy tableau of genre entertainment, I'll take the earnest, vibrant imperfection of this and its contemporaries any day over the thin, empty flawlessness of modern blockbusters. It's not something one needs to go out of their way to see, but if you're seeking something relatively light but outwardly stunning, 'Tokyo: The last megalopolis' is a real pleasure, a superb thrill ride in its own right, and I'm glad to give it my solid recommendation.
