As a kid, I remember walking with my brother down to the Saturday matinee to see King Kong getting whupped by Godzilla, Rodan buzzing over the streets of Tokyo and the tiny twin fairy ladies singing their praise of Mothra. I didn't know it then but these kinds of movies were part of the "Daikaiju eiga" genre (Japanese giant monster movies) that Mr. Stuart Galbraith writes about so eloquently in his marvelous reference book "Japanese Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror Films".

Absolutely ANY Daikaiju eiga film released in the U.S. that you can remember (...and some that you no doubt have forgotten about! ) are described in this book. From the studios of Toho and Daiei, you will find ALL of the 20+ Godzilla and 7+ Gamera films as well as EVERY other sci-fi movie made by the incredible team of Tomoyuki Tanaka, Ishiro Honda and Eiji Tsuburaya (producer, director and SFX master of the original Godzilla films). Some of the lesser known but still wonderful films discussed include The Mysterians; Attack of the Mushroom People; Kwaidan; Onibaba; The Magic Serpent; Majin Trilogy; Atragon; The H-Man; War of the Gargantuas and Frankenstein Conquers the World.

With 424 pages laid out chronologically, Mr. Galbraith provides in-depth detail on more than 103 films including storyline, actors and their roles, production background, release notes and comments from contemporary reviews. Also included is a filmography of the genre from all Japanese studios including cast, crew and Japan/U.S. release information. A rather large bibliography and index complete this masterful work. This book was obviously written with great love and affection for the films at hand - I am quite sure that Daikaiju eiga fans will not be disappointed with their purchase of this book!

not as good as the authors first book on this subject,the interviews are facinating, but the author lets nostalga rule the day in his reviews.giving mediocre films from the 60s and 70s better reviews than the newer and often better films of the 1990s.he tends to practice "Nostalga reviews" . Rating films more by how he remembered them from his youth than by a realisitic reevaluation.Giving Dreck like King Kong Escapes a better write up than Godzilla vs destroyer or Space godzilla says more about the author than about the films. still,if you ignore the reviews, the interviews are a delight

Beginning 25 years when I was 5, like many others I was exposed to these wonderful films via 4 o'clock movies or late night creature features. They gave pleasure then as now looking back on them. Most of the explanatory works I later searched for on these movies were limited to Japanese language fan compendiums. I was thrilled when I saw this and the Godzilla Compendium online, and purchased them immediately. Divided into sections of intros, interviews, plot synopses, primary people involved this read like a scholarly dissertation on the unlikely subject of the monster / fantasy genre of Japan. I enjoyed the interviews the most, especially the overwhelming sense of humour that pervaded the discussions as these actors, directors, and producers chatted about the camaraderie and stories of working together. I was also very pleased to read that Kumi Mizuno [the sultry and beguiling Maemi 'everybody wants me'] enjoyed Attack of the Mushroom People so much, as it along w/ Destroy All Monsters is a favorite of mine. After reading the interviews, and the evenness that the questions were posed, it was sort of a shift of gears to read the reviews, which were often not very complimentary and sometimes scathing. I found it interesting to see the other production houses besides Toho discussed, as well as the other genres that the actors and directors dealt with. A welcome addition to the collection of Japanese fantasy film lovers. Recommended.

Ignore those reviewers who harp on the author for dissing their favorite Godzilla movie. Yes, the new 1990s Godzilla movies are inferior to the older, more imaginative movies of the 1950s and 60s in every way except SFX. But so what? If you buy this book for the film reviews, then you've missed the point entirely. This book is a landmark achievement, a look inside the weird world of Japanese monster movies, told in the words of the people WHO WERE THERE. The author has conducted several dozen interviews with the stars, writers and directors of a wide array of Japanese classics, not just the Godzilla films but also stuff like "Monster From a Prehistoric Planet" and the original "Gamera." There are many self-anointed kingpins of Japanese monster fandom in North America, but none of them has even come close to writing something of this magnitude. This book is a great read, a great look (it's loaded with eye-catching photos and art) and it should be around for a long time to come.

This is a filmography, not a biography. This book focuses almost entirely on Kurosawa's and Mifune's films, giving almost no insight into what their lives were like, or what they were like as people. The first half of this 800-page book is an interminable series of synopses of their early works -- films of significance today only as harbingers of much greater things to come. (Particularly annoying is the author's endless quoting of contemporary reviews from "Variety.") The second half still focuses primarily on the films and the minutiae of their production, but provides more substance about K&W's personal lives. However, it is not nearly enough to get a clear picture of Mifune and Kurosawa as real-life people. We, the readers, always feel like fans still observing the two legends from a distance, learning almost nothing of their personal lives. For instance, barely half a page is spent on Mifune's wedding, and essentially nothing is written about his wife, Sachiko.

In addition, although this is a dual biography-the justification being that Mifune and Kurosawa did their best work together-Mr. Galbraith fails to convey what kind of relationship, whether personal or professional, the two had. Rather, the book's focus alternates from one to the other between chapters. A glaring omission in this regard is a failure to examine their famous falling out. The overly cautious author only hints that it was due to Mifune's reluctance to be tied down by the perfectionist director's lengthy shoots ("Red Beard," their last film together, took 2 years to film), that Mifune, once he gained fame, preferred quick, easy-money projects to support his luxurious lifestyle. However, almost no anecdotes are given to illustrate this or any other aspect of their relationship.

In summary, the definitive English-language biographies of Mifune and Kurosawa have yet to be written.

First of all, let me say, this is a well written and fascinating book that I would recommend to anyone interested in Japanese cinema. It is informative and easy to read for a book in which the main text is 650 pages and the Filmography is 100 pages.

Particularly with the Kurosawa films, Galbraith gives a good feel for the origins, problems and successes of the movies although sometimes, I feel, his obvious respect for the director causes him to praise too highly some of the flawed works. However, this book is a valuable addition to the already excellent "The Films of Akira Kurosawa" by Ritchie. Galbraith's discussion on the non-Kurosawa films that Mifune made is much more superficial, perhaps because of their greater volume.

So, why don't I rate it a 5 star book? The book is subtitled "The Lives and Films of" but this is a book largely about the films. Maybe for two men whose lives were obviously their work some of that is unavoidable. However, at the end, I was left with a feeling of frustration that I had learned so little about them as human beings. Even the famous rift between the two men is not handled in any satisfactory manner. Although it is refered to at a number of points in the book, Galbraith at some points makes it a relatively extended "drifting apart" and at others a major rift. This is such a major event in both individuals's careers,particularly Mifune's, that I would have expected a detailed and cohesive discussion on this issue.

Still, overall, definitely a book I would recommend but not one that I can call a definitive, or even satisfactory, biography of these two important artists.

The careers of Japanese film director and Japanese actor Toshiro Mifune were so intertwined -- each did much of his very best work with the other -- that it is hardly possible to think of one without the other. It was entirely fitting that a dual bio be attempted, and Galbraith is to be applauded for taking on the job and making good work of it.

Though _The Emperor and the Wolf_ looks intimidatingly thick, only 650 of its 825 pages are actual narrative (the rest is taken up by an impressively detailed filmography of the two principals which scholars will love, and extensive notes and index), and that narrative reads easily and fairly swiftly.

The emphasis is clearly on the FILMS rather than the lives of these extraordinary artists. Galbraith moves calmly over such developments as Kurosawa's 1971 suicide attempt and Mifune's mistress Mika Kitagawa. He doesn't avoid, but he doesn't dwell, either.

On the other hand, assuming the Western reader's basic ignorance of such matters (and rightly so), he takes care to summarize the work of other directors, writers, and actors whenever they crossed paths with our two heroes. Descriptions of even really bad and forgettable films that have never made it to the U.S. sometimes make one yearn to see them, never mind the many decent ones.

There are plenty of quotes from American film reviewers -- good, bad, and ugly. (I was surprised that among my favorites, Stanley Kauffmann missed the boat a few times, and John Simon utterly dismissed "Ran.") Kevin Thomas of the LA Times seems to have done the best, most consistent job of grasping what these two geniuses were doing, each time a new film came out.

Galbraith gets overly defensive about Kurosawa's final two projects, "Rhapsody in August" and "Madadayo," but is harsh with "Dreams" and doesn't hesitate to disagree with famed Japan and Japanese film expert Donald Richie on some judgments, or to point out where other commentators have missed the boat (such as in the role William Holden played in championing Japanese films -- in particular, Inagaki's "Samurai" -- in the United States).

He's not a great prose stylist -- he regularly treats "none" and "each" as plural nouns, as in "none ... have been," "each ... have been" -- and I scratched my head over the conclusion "as lightweight films go, it is something of a masterpiece" (of "Sanjuro," p. 331), as well as the meaningless "infinitely more transcendent" (p. 558).

The book includes 44 b&w photos. Most are merely okay (perhaps Richie got most of the great ones for his books), although the one of Mifune in full costume driving off the set of "Yojimbo" in his MG is priceless.

One comes away from this largely reverent book with increased respect for both its subjects (yes, that is possible!), particularly the actor, about whose modesty and professionalism there are endless testimonials.

Even as a world famous star and head of his own production studio in his 40s, Mifune would clean bathrooms and ashtrays, spray the sidewalk, fetch chairs for others. He always knew his lines, and was unfailingly kind to new, young actors. Because he acted as his own agent, he rarely received top dollar for his work, which usually meant greater gate receipts for even truly bad films after the mid 1950s.

I snapped this book up as soon as I ran across it, just over a week ago, and I'm glad I did.