Okay, fellow tapeheads, let’s rewind to a truly bizarre corner of the video store shelves, a place where kaiju continuity took a very strange detour. I’m talking about Gamera: Super Monster from 1980. Finding this tape back in the day felt like unearthing some kind of weird, unofficial bootleg – the cover art promised epic monster action, but popping it into the VCR revealed... well, something else entirely. It wasn't quite the Gamera smackdown we might have expected, but more like a fever dream stitched together from old monster movies and hosted by superheroes from outer space.
Intergalactic Clip Show Craziness
Let's be upfront: Gamera: Super Monster isn't a conventional movie. It’s essentially Gamera’s greatest hits (or maybe all his hits) strung together by a flimsy, utterly bonkers framing story. We have three benevolent "Spacewomen" in sparkly leotards who secretly protect Earth from their hidden base. When the colossal space battleship Zanon (which looks suspiciously like a certain Imperial vessel from another galaxy) arrives to conquer our planet, who do they call upon? Not their own advanced technology, apparently, but... Gamera! Their primary method involves watching Gamera's past battles on a monitor and occasionally intervening with pleas or warnings directed at a young boy who has a strange connection to the giant turtle.
The director, Noriaki Yuasa, was no stranger to Gamera; he helmed most of the beloved Showa-era entries, starting with Gamera, the Giant Monster (1965). But here, his talents seem utterly constrained. Retro Fun Fact: This film was famously cobbled together because Daiei Film, the studio behind Gamera, had gone bankrupt in 1971 and was later restructured. Gamera: Super Monster was reportedly made on a shoestring budget primarily to fulfill contractual obligations and squeeze a few more yen out of their existing monster footage library. It was marketed as a grand celebration but felt more like a desperate garage sale.
A Tour Through Gamera's Past (Whether You Like It Or Not)
The bulk of the film consists of lengthy, largely unedited sequences lifted directly from every single previous Gamera movie. One minute we’re watching Gamera tangle with Guiron on a distant planet (from 1969’s Gamera vs. Guiron), the next he’s battling Gyaos over Nagoya (from 1967’s Gamera vs. Gyaos), then facing off against Zigra underwater (from 1971’s Gamera vs. Zigra). For hardcore Gamera fans, it’s a bizarre, chronological highlight reel. For anyone else? It can feel like watching someone else flip through the channels of Gamera history.
What’s fascinating, though, is seeing the evolution (or devolution, depending on the film) of the practical effects across the Showa era laid bare. You get the gritty, impressive miniature work and fiery destruction of the earlier films right alongside the more psychedelic, kid-friendly monster designs and occasionally ropier suitmation of the later entries. Remember how tangible those crumbling buildings and monster suits felt back then? Even when a bit goofy, there was a weight and physical presence that CGI rarely captures today. This film, unintentionally, becomes a museum exhibit of 60s and 70s Japanese practical effects work.
The new footage featuring the Spacewomen (including former pro-wrestler Mach Fumiake as Kilara) and their incredibly sparse spaceship set is where the 1980 budget really shows. It’s charmingly cheap, full of earnest stares into monitors and dialogue that mainly serves to introduce the next monster clip. Another Retro Fun Fact: The film attempts a weak retcon, suggesting all of Gamera's previous foes were somehow minions of the evil Zanon all along, a narrative thread thinner than the Spacewomen's capes.
The Infamous Finale and That Theme Song
Just when you think the stock footage parade is over, the film throws one final curveball. To defeat Zanon’s battleship, Gamera… flies into space and sacrifices himself in a collision? It's depicted partly through an incredibly jarring, cheap-looking animated sequence that feels completely out of place even in this oddity. It was meant as a definitive end, Gamera’s final heroic act. Of course, we know Gamera would return triumphantly in the fantastic Heisei trilogy starting with Gamera: Guardian of the Universe (1995), making this finale feel even more like a weird, temporary footnote.
And who can forget that theme song? "Gamera! Gamera! I love Ga-me-raaaaa!" It’s an earworm of epic proportions, playing repeatedly throughout the film, cementing its unique brand of campy charm. It's the kind of tune that burrowed into your brain after a late-night VHS viewing.
Final Verdict
Gamera: Super Monster is, objectively, not a good film. It’s a patchwork quilt of recycled material barely held together by a nonsensical plot and bargain-basement production values in its new scenes. It was born of financial necessity, not artistic inspiration. However... there's an undeniable, strange fascination to it. As a time capsule of the entire Showa Gamera series, it’s strangely comprehensive. As an example of bizarre, low-budget filmmaking trying to make something out of almost nothing, it’s kind of remarkable. I distinctly remember renting this as a kid, utterly baffled but somehow unable to look away. It confused me more than thrilled me, but it stuck with me.
Rating: 3/10
Why the score? Purely as a film, it's a mess. The reliance on stock footage is overwhelming, the new story is paper-thin, and the production values are often laughable. But for sheer nostalgic weirdness, its status as the bizarre "final chapter" of Showa Gamera, and as an accidental showcase of kaiju history (warts and all), it earns a few points. It's less a movie, more a cinematic curiosity cabinet.
Final Thought: It’s the ultimate kaiju clip show, a baffling product of its time and studio circumstance – approach it less like a movie night, more like an archaeological dig through Gamera’s VCR tapes.