Submersion of Japan (1973) – Review

The disaster boom struck Hollywood hard in the 1970s, with the Airport franchise kicking off, as well as Irwin Allen’s The Poseidon Adventure and The Towering Inferno cementing him as the “Master of Disaster,” but Hollywood wasn’t the only producer of such cinematic spectacle. In 1973, Japan threw their hat in the ring with Submersion Japan.

Also known as “Japan Sinks,” this Japanese disaster film was based on the best-selling novel by Sakyo Komatsu and directed by Shiro Moritani. This entry brought us a harrowing and thought-provoking scenario of the gradual sinking of the entire Japanese archipelago due to intense seismic activity and tectonic shifts. The story kicks off with a series of catastrophic geological events that begin to unravel across Japan. A team of scientists, led by Dr. Tadokoro (Keiju Kobayashi), discovers that the tectonic plates beneath Japan are moving in such a way that they will eventually cause the entire nation to sink into the ocean. And who exactly can aid the country in its time of need?

Do these men have The Right Stuff?

Dr. Tadokoro, along with his team, conducts extensive research and studies on tectonic plate movements and seismic activity. They discover that a significant tectonic plate shift is underway, causing Japan to slowly but inexorably sink into the ocean. This shift is irreversible and, according to their calculations, could lead to the complete submersion of Japan within the next two years. Realizing the gravity of the situation, he urgently contacts government officials, including Prime Minister Yamamoto (Tetsuro Tamba). At first, the government is skeptical about the findings and reluctant to cause panic among the population. However, as more earthquakes and tsunamis strike various parts of Japan, causing massive destruction and loss of life, the government is forced to acknowledge the impending disaster.

It’s hard to ignore a country in flames.

Amidst the chaos, a love story unfolds between Onodera Toshio (Hiroshi Fujioka), a submarine pilot involved in the scientific exploration and evacuation efforts, and Reiko Abe (Ayumi Ishida), a young woman whose family has been affected by these disastrous events. It’s these two who will provide this film’s romantic subplot – and what disaster film is worth its salt if it doesn’t have a little romance – but what’s interesting about their relationship is that it’s far from overtly romantic. When Onodera tells Reiko “I don’t know if I love you or not. I also don’t know what marriage is like. You know I’ve never been married, but somehow, I feel I could get along with you,” it’s clear he’s no Don Juan.

Can this kind of love survive a major catastrophe?

Meanwhile, the Japanese population is gripped by fear and uncertainty, and the film portrays the various reactions of people from different walks of life—some refuse to believe the warnings, some descend into chaos, and others face the inevitable with stoic acceptance. As the country grapples with the looming apocalypse, the film delves into various subplots involving ordinary citizens, military personnel, and politicians, each facing the crisis in their unique ways. These personal stories help ground the film, adding emotional weight to the grand-scale disaster unfolding as they realize that evacuating 110 million people isn’t going to be all that easy.

“Is anyone using Greenland?”

Stray Observations:

• Onodera and Reiko are having a passionate “From Here to Eternity” beach love-making when interrupted by a volcanic eruption. Who knew Mother Nature could be such a cock-blocker.
• This isn’t the first disaster movie released from Japan, as I’ve always considered Gojira to be, in most respects, a disaster movie. Wide-scale destruction via a radioactive monster is only one step away from a natural disaster.
• The actor playing Prime Minister Yamamoto’s driver was stuntman Haruo Nakajima who would become best known for playing Godzilla in the original feature film series from 1954 to the early 1970s.
• Roger Corman would buy this movie for New World Pictures and cut it down from 143 minutes to 82 minutes while also stuffing in Lorne Greene as an ambassador at the United Nations.

“I blame this disaster on the Cylons.”

For a film made in the early 1970s, the visual effects for Submersion of Japan are a technical marvel. The special effects, supervised by Teruyoshi Nakano, are impressively executed, particularly the scenes depicting massive earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and the sinking of the islands. The practical effects and miniatures used to represent collapsing cities and infrastructure still hold up today, displaying meticulous attention to detail and a genuine effort to create a believable disaster scenario. Clearly, building all those cities for Godzilla to smash paid off.

Even Godzilla, on his best day, never destroyed the entire country.

The film’s cinematography and use of colour also played a crucial role in conveying the scale of the disaster, as the stark contrast between the serene beauty of Japan’s landscapes and the ensuing destruction is visually striking, enhancing the narrative’s emotional impact. The sense of dread and helplessness is further amplified by a haunting score composed by Masaru Sato, which combines traditional Japanese instruments with orchestral arrangements to underscore the film’s tragic and apocalyptic tone. And while Submersion of Japan might be slower-paced compared to more action-oriented disaster films, its focus on character development and the psychological impact of the catastrophe sets it apart. It’s a film that asks its audience to contemplate not just the physical destruction of a nation, but the cultural and emotional devastation that would accompany such a loss.

The triumph of the human spirit.

But beneath its disaster movie exterior, Submersion of Japan is a poignant exploration of human resilience and the lengths to which a nation will go to preserve its people and culture. The film raises thought-provoking questions about the impermanence of human achievements and the unpredictability of nature, themes particularly resonant in a country that has historically faced natural calamities such as earthquakes and tsunamis. The film also touches on geopolitical themes, as Japan’s government faces a moral and ethical dilemma regarding the mass evacuation of its citizens. We are left with such questions as “How does a densely populated nation, with deep cultural roots and limited resources, deal with an existential crisis?”

And can the population survive dodgy rear screen projections?

In conclusion, Submersion of Japan is a thought-provoking and chilling disaster film that remains relevant decades after its release. Its blend of spectacular effects, compelling storytelling, and deep themes makes it a standout film in the genre, and its exploration of humanity’s fragility in the face of overwhelming natural forces is both poignant and terrifying, making it a must-watch for fans of the genre and those interested in Japanese cinema.