One of the more intriguing
programs that appeared on Nickelodeon
back in the Eighties (aside from the obvious You Can’t Do That On Television) was a little gem dubbed The Third Eye. It was a series of mini-series which I
believe were produced in either New Zealand or Australia (I could be wrong, so
an apology if that’s not the case). Each
story centered on a psychically gifted child or children and the dangers they
come across/adventures upon which they embark, but all with a dark bent. Out of the five stories aired, the two I
remember anything about are The Haunting
Of Cassie Palmer, about a girl who befriends a ghost (who, if memory serves,
was dressed a lot like a Puritan) and Under
The Mountain, about a couple of kids who go up against slimy monsters
reminiscent of the Axons from the childhood-scarring Doctor Who story The Claws Of
Axos (i.e. composed of so many intermingling tentacles it could almost be a
gestalt creature made out of giant, pink slugs; the sweet spot for a monster
kid who was forever searching for the next scare). The
Third Eye is one of those shows about which very little is mentioned these
days (at least within earshot of me), and I don’t think that any of the
episodes ever hit DVD in North America (again, if they did they remain well out
of my line of vision). I know Under The Mountain was remade a few
years back, but I haven’t seen it, and my guess would be it’s far slicker than
the low-fi series I first encountered in my youth (not that this is a judgment,
mind you). I bring this up as a tangent
(par for the course for me) to an aspect of Hajime Sato’ s Goke, Body
Snatcher From Hell (aka Kyuketsuki
Gokemidoro) I will get to in just a couple of short paragraphs. Care to take a guess as to what it is?
An Air Japan flight streaks
through a blood red sky. The various
passengers, including a politician, his sycophant and the sycophant’s wife, a
grieving widow, a psychologist, a teenaged punk, a man dressed almost exclusively
in white (right down to the gloves), and a space biologist (yes, really), all
pontificate the meaning of this ominous portent, as well as the fact that the
whole world is basically going to hell in a hand basket (most likely shaped
like an Air Japan jet in this case).
Birds smack violently into the plane’s windows, and after a glowing UFO
buzzes past, one of the engines explodes, sending the aircraft down in parts
unknown. But surviving the elements and
being rescued are the least of these folks’ obstacles, as they are all about to
find out the hard way.
Goke is, to put it mildly, one of the most unusual anti-war films
you may ever come across. But it’s not
the message that makes it stand out so much as the messenger. There have been anti-war films almost as long
as there has been cinema, and Sato
uses some interesting visual techniques to hammer the point home. For example, widow Mrs. Neal (Cathy Horan) carries a crucifix and a
photo of her deceased husband in her luggage.
This photo, however, is not of Mr. Neal in his civilian life or even of
him and his wife showing the bonds of their marriage. No, the pic is of him in uniform over in
Vietnam holding a puppy. In
other words, she remembers him as a dead soldier more than as a loving life
partner (the puppy is an indicator of his good nature and the senselessness of
his death). After co-pilot Sugisaka (Teruo Yoshida) is shot in the arm, his
blood drips down onto this same photo, staining it with a reminder that
violence begets violence. There are
multiple montages in the film utilizing some horrific images from real war footage,
all tinted red (of course symbolizing blood again), for the purpose of shocking
us (assumedly back to our collective senses).
But aside from these things, and the bald-faced philosophizing most of
the characters trudge through (and which we expect from such fare), it is the
most basic aspects of the plot which are oddest. The Gokemidoro (the alien race piloting the
UFO) came to Earth to conquer it and exterminate humanity. Naturally, what better time to do so then
when we humans are so busy killing ourselves, we are at our most vulnerable to
this sort of attack? And that’s just
it. It’s not just that we should end all
wars because humans are killing humans (well, it is as a byproduct, I think),
but because if we don’t, we may be killed by invading extraterrestrials (or
whichever force for Evil you’d like) who can take advantage of our
disunity.
This brings me back to a
discussion of the third eye (the concept, not the television series this time). If you’ve seen stills from this film, I would
hazard a guess that most likely they were of Hideo Ko as Hirofumi, the man in white. After the plane crashes and he escapes with a
hostage (stewardess Asakura, played by Tomomi
Sato), he comes upon the incandescent UFO and is mesmerized. Once inside the saucer, his forehead splits
open, allowing the Gokemidoro to enter and take over his body. From a perspective of spiritualism, the third
eye symbolizes enlightenment. It is
supposed to be a way of seeing beyond normal human comprehension, of seeing the
truth. Normally, this is represented in
the arts as a form of inner peace. Yet
again, the filmmakers here take an expectation and turn it on its ear. Hirofumi was already a man of violence. It is intimated that he shot an ambassador a
day or so before the events of this story unfold. He carries acid (and a rifle) in his
suitcase. Nevertheless, once he is
bequeathed with a third eye, he does not become a man of peace. Instead, he becomes a genuine monster, a
space vampire. Hirofumi and the aliens
don’t bring harmony but devastation.
Conversely, it can be argued that this is the ultimate truth, not only
of human beings, but of all lifeforms; destruction is the order of the
universe. It cannot be escaped on this
planet nor on any other. In the long run, it makes for one of the most
pessimistic pacifist films I have ever seen, because it doesn’t matter whether
or not the people of Earth abolish war.
Apparently, there are entire universes of races out there just chomping
at the bit to decimate us. Doing it
ourselves simply speeds the plow.
MVT: I love the main idea of
this film. If nothing else can be said
about it, it is unique and loaded with imagination. The film’s structure does bog the pacing down
a bit by going the formulaic route, but the ending puts a final and fitting bit
of punctuation to the proceedings.
Make or Break: The first
sequence inside the Gokemidoro ship is the Make. Aside from the repulsive special effects, the
interior of the craft contains aspects of both order and chaos (rectangular
frames formed with jagged edges, kaleidoscopic lighting schemes, et cetera) I
find appealing for its creation of a sort of visual tension.
Score: 7/10
