KING KONG VS. GODZILLA (1962)
Composed & Conducted by Akira Ifukube

La-La Land Records LLLCD 1041 / TT: 69:58 / Stereo

Still capable of rousing moppets into a fist-clenched frenzy of cheers, Toho’s multi-cultural match of the titans, KING KONG VS. GODZILLA, is still—in this cynical age of computer-generated “perfection”—a funny and exciting epic adventure… at least the original Japanese version is. The heavily re-edited North American version eliminated much of the appealing Japanese cast’s interactions while adding plodding exposition and constant “explaining” by a stiff newscaster.

Also missing from American prints was an incredible score by Akira Ifukube, one of Japan’s most respected composers of film and concert music. Ifukube scored the first Godzilla film (Gojira, 1954), also contributing to the creation of the creature’s unique roar (by rubbing a resin-covered leather glove over the strings of a double bass). RODAN, VARAN and THE MYSTERIANS are just a few of the many science-fiction assignments that followed in the wake of this success. Other composers may have tackled the genre from time to time—including Kurosawa’s favored Masaru Satoh—but Ifukube was always the acknowledged master of monster music.

Ifukube’s music honored Japanese tradition—borrowing folk melodies that tapped into the mythic roots of this genre (think of Godzilla and his kin as modern equivalents to ancient Japanese gods and demons)—while translating these Eastern sensibilities into a Western symphonic form. Apparently this meant little to the American distributors of KING KONG VS. GODZILLA, who probably thought the music sounded too ethnic, and so stripped out nearly all of Ifukube’s underscore in favor of tracks lifted from the Universal library, most recognizably the brash three-note theme music of THE CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON.

Thankfully we have the Japanese import DVD to experience the film as it was meant to be seen and heard… and even more kudos go to this domestically produced CD from La-La Land Records that presents the bulk of Ifukube’s original score.

Akira Ifukube’s original Main Title, so different from the stolen “creature-feature” strains on the American prints, is a tribal paean to Kong. It’s launched by a driving ostinato for strings, exotic percussion (including gongs, tom-toms and congas) and a chanting chorus of 50 male and female voices, soon to be joined by brass and wind harmonies high and low. Multiple tubas resound ominously, suggesting something of great size and power. This music will return a couple of more times, when the natives dance and sing to the fallen Kong (Track 14, “The Sleeping Devil”) and later during Kong’s march on Tokyo, when the heroes play a recording of the music to lull him to asleep once again (Track 25: “The Plan to Rescue Fumiko II”). Actually, in the latter two instances, this tribal music was retained for the American cut.

Despite Ifukube’s at-times alien sound compared to the standard Hollywood film score, he almost always adopted a traditional, leitmotiv-based approach. Consequently, both of the main mon-stars receive their respective musical signatures. Kong’s motif is beautifully typical of Ifukube’s monster music: bass drums pound out a plodding, incessant beat, over which flutter-tonguing brass blast out a primitive melody, drunkenly sliding from one note to the next. Godzilla’s famous motif, which Ifukube repeated throughout the character’s 50-year career, begins with an ominous fanfare for low brass, followed by a grim death march. Building slowly, powerfully, it perfectly reflects the giant reptile’s relentless nature and the inevitability of his destruction.

After both characters are introduced, they move inexorably, like towering chess pieces toward their final clash on Mt. Fuji. The score takes on a checkerboard-like architecture, alternating between the two monster themes. The final confrontation on Mt. Fuji inspires a lengthy alternation between the two motifs within the same movement. Ifukube’s approach is to not catch physical action as it happens (time constraints on fast-moving Japanese productions discouraged much use of the “mickey-mouse” technique) but to provide the monsters with simple, identifiable and repetitive sounds. The result is motor-like and somewhat mesmerizing.

Besides the two main monster themes, there’s a lot more to savor: a tense series of atmospheric cues leading up to Godzilla’s attack on a wounded submarine (trembling strings and vibraphone add to the weirdness); Ifukube’s seductive island music, characterized simply by gentle tympani and a plaintive oboe (he would re-use this “primitive” theme in other scores); a malevolent passage for growling winds and brass that illustrates a land-crawling octopus’s nocturnal raid on a native village (Bernard Herrmann, who similarly underscored a giant octopus or two, would have approved); jagged, rhythmic “skirmish” music (an occasional, welcome relief from the two monster motifs); and an uplifting march that accompanies the Japanese military as they accomplish one of their more ridiculous tasks—transporting a giant monster by hot-air balloons! Ifukube specialized in these fever-pitched patriotic marches, and this is one his best.

In addition, La-La Land’s CD includes some welcome relief from Ifukube’s dramaturgy: source cues are incorporated into the chronological presentation and include a light jazz piece that’s pleasingly evocative of an early Sixties lounge; patriotic band music to herald a ship’s departure; and a simply bizarre pop number that comes pouring out of a radio to startle the island natives.

La-La Land presents the entire score in dated but acceptable stereo. Limited as it is, the sound is much preferable to an even more muffled stereo presentation found in a recent Japanese import box set of Godzilla soundtracks.

David Hirsch provides informative liner notes while Mark Banning’s art direction is dominated by images of the Big G. Presumably due to legal reasons, no photographs of rival Kong could be included, even though the man-in-suit Japanese version bears no physical resemblance to Willis O’Brien’s stop-motion puppet or Peter Jackson’s computer-generated cartoon.

For more information on this CD, visit the label at www.lalalandrecords.com

– Bill Cooke