Editorials
Grief and Monsters in ‘Gamera 3: Revenge of Iris’ [Formative Fears]
Formative Fears is a column that explores how horror scared us from an early age, or how the genre contextualizes youthful phobias and trauma. From memories of things that went bump in the night, to adolescent anxieties made real through the use of monsters and mayhem, this series expresses what it felt like to be a frightened child – and what still scares us well into adulthood.
“Gamera killed Iris’ family, too.”
The Gamera franchise was given a new lease on life for its thirtieth anniversary. Filmmaker Shūsuke Kaneko updated not only the setting and technical aspects, he breathed life into the titular hero’s uninspired origin story. No longer was Gamera a mere Godzilla cash-in who habitually rescued children in peril; the carapaced, flying gargantuan was now a long-gone civilization’s bio-engineered wonder whose unfettered determination to save the planet also incurred chaos and pain. Gamera had the distinct, predestined mission to quell great evils who threatened Earth. And to save this endangered world came at a high cost which Kaneko ardently explored in his trilogy’s final entry, Gamera 3: Revenge of Iris.
Gamera’s most enduring and external struggle in the Heisei era was battling a flock of invasive Gyaos – predatory, bird-like monstrosities also created by Gamera’s makers, the Atlanteans – hell bent on turning Japan into a giant nest. While the Gyaos were quashed for the time being after the events of the first movie, another threat emerged in their short-lived absence; a species of silicon-based extraterrestrials dubbed Legion arrived in hopes of colonizing Earth until the planet’s self-appointed guardian stepped in. A good many people considered Gamera a hero at this point, but there were plenty of those opposed to the creature’s existence on the basis it caused as much, if not more, damage than the antagonizing monsters. The Japanese government, divisive when it came to the topic of Gamera, begrudgingly needed the creature’s help because the Gyaos were reproducing and evolving at an alarming rate, yet those reckless methods of extermination – one encounter between Gamera and Gyaos incurred 20,000 human casualties – were inexcusable. Someone had to intervene, and that person was a teenage girl.
In 1995, Tokyo was awash in fear and anticipation as a colossal Gyaos descended upon the nearly evacuated city. The Hirasaka family was still escaping when their apartment building was suddenly crushed by a powerful force. Ayana (Ai Maeda), who had been waiting for her parents downstairs in the car, could only watch in terror as Gamera destroyed her entire world in a matter of seconds. Four years have since passed and Ayana and her younger brother Satoru (Takahiro Itō) are living with relatives in the small village of Asuka. Already singled out as an outcast, Ayana succumbs to a school bully’s dare and retrieves a supposed mystical stone from a local sacred cave. Her moving it, however, spells doom for everyone. In a matter of time, the Ryūseichō – the fabled Guardian of the South protected by the Moribe family – is reborn and now requires a caregiver. Ayana is immediately drawn to the otherworldly, aberrant creature and their shared interest in killing Gamera. And once the monster, having since been renamed Iris, gains both size and power from consuming Asuka’s residents, he seeks out his mortal enemy.
While the previous two movies were straightforward in terms of plot and characters, the third and most critical installment looks past the surface. Kaneko shifts focus away from Gamera to better examine the monster’s impact in areas often overlooked in kaijū cinema. For the time period, this was a bold choice given the fact human characters were still playing second to the larger-than-life headliners. Revenge of Iris instead centers itself squarely on Ayana and those directly affected by Gamera’s hazardous behavior and incidental carnage. For the most part, Toho’s concurrent Heisei reboot of Godzilla concentrated on the government and army fighting the monsters rather than addressing the immense damage they caused; Gamera went in the opposite direction by having each movie be more personal than the last.
In a world gradually becoming more and more inhabited by unpredictable monsters, Ayana’s constant state of unease is reasonable. On top of that, the trauma she suffers after seeing Gamera allegedly kill her parents isn’t addressed by anyone, much less herself. Her aunt and uncle treat her like she’s a burden, her peers show no sympathy for her troubles, and her brother had the good fortune of being out of town when tragedy hit the Hisarakas. With no one to talk to, Ayana’s turn to Iris – her greatest commiserator because they have both been wronged by Gamera in the past – is inevitable. An ordinary teenager obviously lacks the ability to bring an 80-meter monster to its knees, but with a weapon like Iris, Ayana is one step closer to making her dark wish come true.
A uniquely intimate relationship like that of Iris and Ayana’s isn’t without its caveats. In this extraordinary case of symbiosis, Iris is a vampiric mutation of Gyaos who feeds on other advanced organisms, namely humans. This biological need both exponentially increases Iris’ size and dwindles Asuka’s populace; ghastly images of the desiccated victims are startling. Ayana almost succumbs to the same fate as others including her aunt, uncle and cousin, but her “ingestion” is on a deeper and more intense level – Iris ultimately absorbs her whole in a net of spindly tentacles to sponge off her life force rather than kill her. In turn, he channels her fury as well as augments his own evolutionary instinct to destroy Gamera.
In Kyōto where Ayana has been taken for evaluation by an occultist claiming to be of Atlantean descent, the full-grown Iris follows with Gamera in hot pursuit. Ayana’s spiteful influence gives Iris an edge over their opponent, whose own initial defeat stems from severing ties with humans, including teenage telepath Asagi Kusanagi (Ayako Fujitani). The concern is Gamera has turned on humanity in order to protect Earth by any means necessary. In some fashion, though, Ayana is operating on a similar wavelength as her adversary – their obsessions blind them to the misery of countless others. She and Gamera are responsible for massive collateral damage even if their motivations are different. It is only once Ayana is fully assimilated with Iris does she realize the weight of her actions and what really happened on the day her parents died.
Ayana’s sizable anguish was left unanswered for so long it was only a matter of time before it came out. Within the framework of kaijū fantasy and to some degree, body horror, that sadness then manifested in the most destructive way possible. Ayana’s wavelike, emotional release indeed comes at the expense of innumerable lives, but Gamera’s determination to save her and finally reconnect with humanity as a whole is an immeasurable moment in an otherwise bleak movie whose ending only foreshadows more trouble for mankind.
Editorials
Before ‘The Blair Witch Project’, ‘Alien Autopsy’ Showed How Real Found Footage Could Feel
The line separating artist from con man is a lot thinner than you might initially believe. While I think we can all agree that lying for the sake of profit is actively malicious behavior, isn’t it also true that the faux documentary aspect of The Blair Witch Project is half the reason why that film became such a cultural phenomenon? After all, if there’s one thing filmmakers have in common with stage magicians, it’s that misleading and misdirecting audiences is simply part of the job.
That’s why I’ve developed a habit of mostly ignoring the moral quandaries behind many of film and television’s biggest “hoaxes” in favor of appreciating the narrative elements that drive productions like Mermaids: The Body Found and even Animal Planet’s highly underrated The Cannibal in the Jungle. However, if there’s a definitive case of a highly publicized broadcast fooling the world into taking it seriously, it has to be Fox’s infamous 1995 TV special Alien Autopsy: Fact or Fiction.
It’s been over three decades since that eerie footage first haunted television screens right at the peak of the ’90s ufology craze, and in that time, the video has taken on a life of its own. From countless parodies and references in everything from The X-Files to Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater (as well as John Dower’s recently released tell-all documentary The Alien Autopsy Scandal, which I’d highly recommend to genre fans everywhere), there’s no denying the legacy of the Alien Autopsy video. However, I rarely see the tape discussed as what it truly is: a highly convincing found footage film directed by a passionate stage magician and brought to life by masterful practical effects work.
That’s why I’d like to invite readers to join me on a deep dive into one of the most infamous broadcasts of all time in an attempt to reevaluate the footage as a fascinating narrative experience rather than a complete hoax.
The TV Special That Convinced Millions It Was Real
Ray Santilli next to Extraterrestrial replica in ‘The Alien Autopsy Scandal’
For starters, regardless of whether or not you believe that there was in fact an extraterrestrial crash in Roswell during the summer of 1947 and that some form of autopsy was performed on the victims, the producers behind the black & white recordings, Ray Santilli and Gary Shoefield, insist that their video was a “restoration.” Though I’d argue that the proper word is “remake”of genuine footage that was too damaged to air on television. That’s why the duo went on to recruit filmmaker and eccentric magician Spyros Melaris and sculptor/monster designer John Humphreys to bring their version of the autopsy to life and sell it to the highest bidder.
This is where the story of the Alien Autopsy as a narrative experience really begins. Melaris claims that his approach to the faux recording consisted of striving for extreme period accuracy in both shooting equipment and setting while also planting subtle details that would initially seem like mistakes but could later be revealed to actually fit the time period. That being said, the filmmaker was under the impression that the short would be released for free as a PR stunt, with the team later producing and selling an informative documentary chronicling exactly how the footage was faked and commenting on how easy it is to manipulate public perception with a good old-fashioned magic trick.
This obviously isn’t how things went down, and that’s likely the reason why Melaris has since distanced himself from everyone else involved with the project. Yet, no amount of behind-the-scenes drama can undermine the genuine effort that went into making the short as impressive as it is. From the sourcing of real animal organs from a local butcher to make the organic part of the creature more lifelike to the highly detailed sculpt that made use of a hollowed-out underlayer that could be filled with fake blood and assorted viscera, there’s a reason why so many Hollywood specialists are still impressed with the artistry on display here.
Of course, the believability is only half the story, as I think that the best part of the autopsy is how Melaris builds on the existing tension by obscuring certain details and often embracing the chaos of what a real examination of extraterrestrial life could feel like. The camera often goes out of focus at just the right time to make certain effects hit even harder, and we can only speculate as to what the hazmat-suited doctors are gesticulating about during the operation. There’s a real air of mystery to the whole thing that almost makes it feel like a cosmically terrifying, cursed film containing forbidden knowledge that civilians were never meant to see.
So when Fox’s Fact or Fiction brings in the specialists to comment on the film and its otherworldly subject, it’s no surprise that we end up with one of the most memorable mockumentaries of all time – albeit one where the participants are unaware that the footage they’re commenting on is basically a large-scale practical joke. A joke that the network was obviously in on, as many participants claim that the TV special cut out significant portions where guests point out that they believe the footage to be an elaborate hoax.
The Lasting Impact of the Hoax Turned Cultural Event
Regardless, I remember going to bed terrified after watching reruns of the special and thinking about the respected pathologist who claimed that the body was almost certainly inhuman, with even effects maestro Stan Winston commenting on how difficult it would be to recreate some of these visuals through practical puppetry. That’s not even mentioning Jonathan Frakes’ dramatic hyping up of the disturbing imagery as if he was talking about the tape from The Ring, with his spooky demeanor here likely being responsible for his later role as the host of Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction a few years later.
Personally, I’d argue that the Alien Autopsy phenomenon had just as much of an impact on me as a horror fan as The Blair Witch Project, a film that was almost certainly influenced by the success of this immensely popular hoax (to the point where they even produced their own TV special commenting on Heather’s found footage). Even if Fox didn’t intend to produce a narrative feature about the aftermath of the Roswell crash, the end product still holds up remarkably well as a highly entertaining mockumentary exploring the idea that we may not be alone in the universe.
While neither Santilli nor the rest of the production team has ever commented on this, I also think it’s very likely that the idea of a faux Alien Autopsy could have been influenced by Dean Alioto’s The McPherson Tape/UFO Abduction. I’ve already written about how this granddaddy of found footage was co-opted by rogue ufologists who began selling bootlegs of the tape at conventions as if it were real evidence of a close encounter, so it’s not that much of a stretch to imagine that Santilli and company could have heard about this phenomenon and been inspired to come up with their own highly profitable hoax.
At the end of the day, it’s unlikely that the Alien Autopsy film is recreating any real footage from Roswell, but I can still appreciate the short and the accompanying television event as a standalone horror story that still influences the way we see found footage to this very day.
After all, the possibility that something could be real is often much scarier than finding out for sure – and that’s why I think Alien Autopsy: Fact or Fiction is still worth revisiting three decades down the line.
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