MESSAGE FROM SPACE (1978)

I’m old enough to remember radio DJs in the UK raving about a new film they’d seen while over in the US. They recounted how people were queuing around the block to see it, sometimes for a second or third viewing—coming out of one showing and joining the line for the next. The buzz around Star Wars (1977) was a phenomenon in itself. Images from the movie were appearing in newspapers and magazines around the world long before any international distribution deal.

When that buzz reached Japan, the studio executives at Tōei booked themselves onto a flight to Hawaii to see what all the fuss was about. They were taking notes.

On their return, they immediately drew up plans to make Japan’s own action-packed space opera and get it into cinemas before Star Wars reached their screens. Up against this incredibly tight deadline, they allocated a bigger budget than any previous Japanese movie—yet that was only around half of what Star Wars cost. While the final product is an attempt to ride the wave of hype preceding George Lucas’s sci-fi epic, it’s more than a simple knock-off and remains distinctively Japanese in so many ways—especially in its frenetic exuberance.

Just as George Lucas had looked to the structure of heroic folktales to hold his sprawling story together—famously consulting the writings of mythologist Joseph Campbell—so the story that would become Kinji Fukasaku’s Message from Space / 宇宙からのメッセージ / Uchū kara no messēji borrowed from classic Japanese literature.

Screenwriter Masahiro Noda adapted the central story from Nansō Satomi Hakkenden / The Eight Dog Chronicles, the longest-ever Japanese-language novel. Written during the Edo period by Takizawa Bakin, it was first published in 106 volumes over 28 years starting in 1814. Although loosely based on historical events, Bakin embellished it with plenty of legends and folklore, so there was more than enough material to draw from. I won’t attempt to summarise the convoluted plot here, but it involves a princess from a besieged land who magically imbues the eight beads of her necklace with spirits. These spirits then scatter to seek out eight destined warriors who will eventually defeat an oppressive regime, thereby bringing justice to her clan and restoring the standing of her ancestors.

In Message from Space, the magical beads take the form of the mystical Liabe Seeds, which look exactly like glowing walnuts. They travel through space seeking out potential heroes to aid the peaceful, druid-like people of the planet Jillucia. Jillucia has been devastated by the invading army of the Gavanas Empire, led by Rockseia XII (Mikio Narita). The space seeds are guided by an invisible life force that can bring people’s destinies together and somehow lead Emeralida (Etsuko Shihomi) to the right place at the right time so she can explain the calling to the inevitably baffled recipients. One of her clan’s warriors, Urocco (Makoto Satō), accompanies her as she sets out on her desperate quest aboard a spaceship that looks exactly like a galleon from Earth’s Edo Period, with solar-powered sails.

Manga author and artist Shotaro Ishinomori was brought in to develop the script and oversee concept design. If that name sounds familiar, it’s probably because of his hugely successful multimedia creations, including Kamen Rider and Super Sentai. These franchises proliferate through manga, anime, and live-action television series including the hugely popular Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers.

The VFX director, Nobuo Yajima, had previously collaborated with the project’s initial director, Hajime Satō, on both Kaitei daisensô / Terror Beneath the Sea (1966) and the television series Akuma-Kun (1966–1997). Managing so many disparate elements simultaneously quickly rendered the production unwieldy, leading to communication breakdowns. This clash of styles, particularly evident between miniature effects, sets, and costumes, remains noticeable. However, it also injected a unique creative energy in the early stages, keeping things interestingly incongruous.

Recognising the challenges and expenses of the production, Tōei realised the need for a more experienced director at the helm. Kinji Fukasaku, a proven talent with over forty films to his credit, was brought in to replace Hajime Satō, whose filmography numbered around half a dozen. Fukasaku, known for reinvigorating the yakuza genre with films like Ôkami to buta to ningen / Wolves, Pigs and Men (1964), Bakuto gaijin butai / Sympathy for the Underdog (1971), and the ultra-violent series Jingi naki tatakai / Battles Without Honor and Humanity (1973), seemed to desire a change of pace. He had already shown interest in science fiction with The Green Slime (1968).

As Esmeralida and Urocco speed off into space, their ship is pursued by a vast Gavanas battlecruiser that glides in from the top of the screen, revealing only its engine ports—a clear visual homage to Star Wars. Given Esmeralida’s flowing white gown, one might initially assume she’s a Princess Leia substitute. However, upon meeting the feisty young Meia (Peggy Lee Brennan), we realise we’re getting a two-for-one deal. Meia befriends Aaron (Philip Casnoff) and Shiro (Hiroyuki Sanada), a pair of ‘space hotrodders’ who enjoy piloting their souped-up ships through treacherous asteroid belts and outmanoeuvring the space police in a canyon chase reminiscent of “Beggar’s Canyon back home.” These two ne’er-do-well delinquents are the first to be reached by the glowing walnuts…

Of course, the reluctant heroes reject the call, especially as Esmeralida isn’t there to explain things. But while they’re out with Maia space-swimming amongst radioactive asteroids trying to catch space fireflies, which are particles of luminous nuclear waste, they come under attack by Gavanas fighters.

Now, killjoys will point out that they wouldn’t be able to swim in a vacuum and, without a spacesuit, their blood would boil. Perhaps the asteroids are close enough together to hold an atmosphere. Who knows? If one just goes along with it and accepts that this is more fantasy than science fiction, then there’s plenty of crazy fun to be had despite such silliness. Besides, the whole radioactive environment and nuclear fallout have some serious undertones here. Like so much of Japan’s post-war cinema, Message from Space contains several allusions to the atomic bombs—from these ‘space fireflies’ to an entire planet being ripped apart by ‘ultra-nuclear missiles’.

While taking refuge from the Gavanas attack, they find the crashed space galleon with Esmeralida and Urroco unconscious inside and finally take up the heroic calling to help defeat the Gavanas aggressors. By now, the mysterious powers of the Liabe Seeds have brought together a ragtag group of unlikely heroes, though not all of them realise it yet, and it seems there are one or two more to collect. Aaron and Shiro are accompanied by their petty crook pal, Jack (Masazumi Okabe), who’s escaping gangland debt collectors back on Earth. General Garuda (Vic Morrow) was discharged from the military after he arranged a hero’s funeral for his faithful robot, Beba. He now travels with Beba-2 (Isamu Shimizu), another robot that could be related to R2-D2…

… or perhaps Analyser from the anime television series Space Battleship Yamato (1974-75) and the 1977 feature-length anime of the same name. The striking similarities with the Japanese animated space opera—which predated both films—haven’t gone unnoticed, and some believe Space Battleship Yamato may have influenced George Lucas too. It involves a princess escaping the forces of an oppressive regime and passing on secret technical schematics that could be used to build a super weapon. Plus, there are plenty of space dogfights and speeder bikes. Some of the designs in Message from Space seem intentionally to reference Space Battleship Yamato, especially the space police pursuit craft and the delta-winged ultra-nuclear missiles.

An interesting, albeit geeky, aside is that the British sci-fi magazine Starburst led with Star Wars art on the cover of its first issue, but it was Yamato that graced the second issue’s cover.

Message from Space isn’t a great film. At times, the overacting is so over-the-top that if one doesn’t find it funny, it simply gets in the way of what story there is. But fans of Mike Hodges’ Flash Gordon (1980) might well enjoy its campy, cartoonish style. The pacing is constantly frenetic, with no real gaps between the action, which means the viewer could well be numbed by the time we reach the climactic battles. But those who watch a lot of shōnen anime may have built up enough resilience.

The visual effects are dated, with obvious blue-screen matte halos. But those who still revel in the beauty of retro miniature effects will be in their element because the models are pretty good, and some are large enough to look majestic as they emerge from spectacular real-time pyrotechnics. A large chunk of the budget went into constructing some of the spacecraft at a 1:1 scale so the actors could directly interact with them and avoid clunky compositing.

Although other aspects—costumes, nightclub scenes, and dance moves—have aged poorly, I still enjoyed Message from Space. My favourite sequences are the introduction of Prince Hans (Sonny Chiba) as a space samurai riding his goggled horse across the dusty red plains of a desert planet, and his final sword fight with Rockseia XII. But why are they using swords on spaceships against laser blasters? Well, that criticism could also be levelled at the Jedi and their lightsabres. Kinji Fukasaku was simply making the most of his cast’s skills, especially Chiba who had appeared in many chanbara films. Besides, it looks cool, or at least interesting.

On its initial release, it did very well in Japan and spawned a sequel in the form of a popular 27-part television series, Message from Space: Galactic Wars (1978-79), which aired on TV Asahi. The foreign distribution rights were quickly snapped up by United Artists, eager to cash in on the new market created by Star Wars. However, it didn’t catch on in the US and soon found itself second-billed to the Roger Corman-produced Starcrash (1978), another unashamed Star Wars knock-off, directed by Luigi Cozzi.

Message from Space builds to a climax where the ‘space hot-rodders’ must skilfully steer their fighters through the labyrinthine conduits of the huge Gavanas command base and deliver a torpedo through a small vent into its reactor core. Just like the iconic Death Star sequence, this left an imprint on the Japanese consciousness that still influences video games and seems to be referenced in modern pop culture, such as the music video for Der En Grey’s 2003 single “Child Prey”.

There are also plenty of space dogfights throughout the film—perhaps too many. Some are fun space races; others are reminiscent of air battles from classic World War II war films but with green and red energy beams. The model shots, ambitious for their time, are effectively intercut with the actors’ reactions and over-acting. It seems Kinji Fukasaku honed his cutting skills while directing the dogfights and the attack on Pearl Harbor in Tora! Tora! Tora! (1970).

Fukasaku was indeed a varied and versatile director. In the same year, he also made The Yagyu Clan Conspiracy (1978) and the sumptuous historical masterpiece, The Fall of Akō Castle (1978). He has since become best known for his genre films, including Satomi Hakken-den / Legend of the Eight Samurai (1983) based on the same classic story, Samurai Reincarnation (1981), and his final film as director, Battle Royale (2000), which kick-started the Asian extreme genre.

JAPAN | 1978 | 105 MINUTES | 2.00:1 | COLOUR | JAPANESE

Blu-ray Special Features:

• Limited edition O-Card slipcase featuring new artwork by Scott Saslow [2000 copies].
• Limited edition reversible poster [2000 copies].
• 1080p HD presentation on Blu-ray from a restoration of the original film elements supplied by Tōei… which shows all the film grain, matte halos, and other flaws but also the details of the models used in the effects sequences.
• Original Japanese audio.
• Optional English dubbed audio.
• Optional English subtitles.
• Brand new audio commentary by Tom Mes. In which he gives an extensive overview of Tōei and the Japanese studio system and places the film within that broader cultural context. He helpfully explains many seemingly random elements, such as why Aaron and Shiro look like they’re wearing motorcycle stunt rider costumes (at the time, exploitation films featuring delinquent youths in biker gangs were one of the most popular sub-genres in Japanese cinema). He parallels aspects of the story with real-world events such as the U.S-Japan Mutual Security Treaty (1949-1959) and the violent protests that followed its renewal in 1960. He also includes the usual backgrounds for the international cast and crew. However, information about the production may be scarce as he rarely addresses what we’re viewing.
• ‘Message from Earth’—a 30-minute archival documentary made for German television featuring interviews with Sonny Chiba and Kenta Fukasaku. Highly informative, with plenty of behind-the-scenes and candid making-of information, including arguments and accidents. This is a real treat as many of those who talk about their work on Message from Space are no longer with us. Kenta Fukasaku starts by recalling his first visit to see his father on a film set, which was during the making of Message from Space and seemed like “a playground for adults.” He then goes on to discuss the film’s background and his father’s career. We get some technical insights from the VFX director Nobuo Yajima and chief model maker Shinji Hiruma. Sonny Chiba talks about his memories of the shoot, including being injured when a stunt went wrong and a heavy door falling on his legs. He heaps praise on Kinji Fukasaku and credits him for his entire career, mentioning a few of the many other times they worked together.
• ‘Ah! Message from Space’—a brand new 14-minute appreciation by film writer Patrick Macias. Macias has loved the film ever since seeing it as a child. They point out many of the Star Wars parallels and cover some of the same ground as Tom Mes does in placing the film within its cultural context. It’s a fun and informative chat by a fan and encourages sceptics to re-appraise the film for what it is.
• Reversible sleeve featuring original poster artwork.
• Stills gallery.
• Trailers—including Tokyoscope coverage of a press event involving all key cast and crew.
• A collector’s booklet featuring new writing on the film by Christopher Stewardson. Not available at the time of review.

Cast & Crew

director: Kinji Fukasaku.
writer: Kinji Fukasaku (story by Shôtarô Ishinomori, Masahiro Noda & Hirô Matsuda.)
starring: Vic Morrow, Shin’ichi (Sonny) Chiba, Etsuko Shihomi, Philip Casnoff, Peggy Lee Brennan, Hiroyuki Sanada, Mikio Narita, Makoto Satô & Tetsurô Tanba.