It was a Monster Mash!
Shooting laser beams at our balls.
“The flying saucer people are obviously not going to arrive tonight.” The “Flying Saucer People”? Maybe that’s why. That’s one of the more sensible lines in GHIDORAH: THE THREE-HEADED MONSTER, another dimwitted Godzilla movie that brings together four – count ’em, four! – Japanese monsters to try and make a rip in each other’s rubber suits.
I took this movie at face value, said to myself, Let me try something different: I’ll imagine this is not a “Godzilla Movie” so I’m not constantly expecting him to turn up for no good reason out of nowhere; let me focus on the human story. Watch the movie for its merits without the crutch of being associated with that screeching, fire-breathing culty dragon…
… and it’s STILL crap!
I wonder how these Japanese filmmakers and the cult of Godzilla that support them have enough discernment not to put dogshit in their mouths and chew on it like expensive steak. Because someone who cannot tell that this finished film resembles dogshit must surely be starving to death; how are they able to pay their bills or be trusted to stop at red lights?
Nothing makes sense. Film is written like a 10-year-old making it up as he goes along (thanks to regular Godzilla scripter Shin’ichi Sekizawa): a meteor lands in Japan, births a three-headed golden, batwinged dragon (nee “space monster”) that starts laser-beaming toy cities, and is immediately named Ghidorah (how did they arrive at this name?); scientists visit the meteor, which is intermittently magnetic (which, it turns out, has nothing to do with anything for the rest of the movie – it’s not like Ghidorah is intermittently, or even actively, magnetic); a princess jumps out of her plane and reappears claiming to be a “Martian” who tells us her planet is dead due to Ghidorah, and that Martians have long lived undercover with humans; oh yeah, and they have the power of prophesy (which of course, NEVER comes true – she predicts the Earth is going to be destroyed by Ghidorah – doesn’t happen – yet NO ONE calls her on it). The detective who was assigned to protect the princess sees her pictured in the paper with a report about her being from Mars (front page news when reporters are this gullible!) and ponders, “Maybe she’s trying to elude her assassins!” Yeah, that’s right, by claiming to be a Martian and spreading her face over the front page of newspapers. Now no one will find her!
And that’s why this movie is a shambles – not because of the guys in rubber suits (that’s the fun part!), but because the story that is built around them doesn’t make sense even within its own universe and rules.
Okay, can we dispense with the kindergarten attempt at storytelling and just get some good old-fashioned rubber-suited action up in this dungcastle?
Rodan, an expressionless bird-puppet, appears to terrorize Japan. Godzilla appears (as usual, for no good reason out of nowhere) and fights Rodan. Yay! Summer Lovin’ – Had me a blast!… And then those twin “fairies” – emissaries of Mothra, who speak in unison just to irritate me – call Mothra, to gather all the rubbers and convince them to unite against Ghidorah.
The monsters actually have a sitdown (“rar-rar-rar-roar,” “grunt-rar-ugh-rar”). And the fairies translate for the humans. Has my head exploded yet? American production companies shat on director Ishiro Honda‘s original GODZILLA (1954) by inserting Raymond Burr and a translator to cater to American audiences; seems Honda liked that dogshit idea so much, he used the technique himself to ruin one of his own movies. [To be said with an annoying slap-delay]: “Now Mothra is trying to convince them not to fight each other, and Rodan is saying ‘No’ and Godzilla is saying, ‘What has humanity done for them’?” etc. until I kick my fluffy toys in spastic frenzy.
Mothra isn’t a moth anymore – he’s a slug. In their Sesame Street Cooperation Mode, Godzilla lets Mothy grab onto his tail to help him up a hillside, and Rodan puts Mothy on his back to spray his caterpillar-jizz at Ghidorah from above. And this movie has the distinction of Godzilla being laser-beamed in the balls by Ghidorah – and then later in the ass! It’s so retarded it’s FUN. (Oh, by the way, Mothra is a “she” – I don’t care, I’m still going to call it a he. How can he be female if he carries such heavy loads of jizz?)
Tanks and missiles can’t harm Ghidorah’s hide, but spraying jism in his face calms him down. That seems to be a universal panacea: spray jism in somebody’s face and everyone’s calmer.
So sad – the doctor is played by the magnificent Takashi Shimura (of SEVEN SAMURAI fame), who was in the first GODZILLA (1954), the dark nuclear abuse statement. (The filmmakers still jab in a few snarkers: “We don’t want to use atomic weapons without consulting the rest of the world” –cough-Hiroshima.) Working with director Honda again seemed like a good call. Unfortunately, Shimura must have been unaware that by this stage Honda was actively trying to tunnel his career into a pile of dogshit.
Doubt it? Why then does Mothra the slug look like a trail of dog poo? Moth – or Metaphor ?
I rest my case, yeronner.
END
GHIDORAH: THE THREE-HEADED MONSTER (Dec 1964) | Not Ratedaka: SAN DAIKAIJÛ: CHIKYÛ SAIDAI NO KESSEN.
aka: THREE GIANT MONSTERS: THE GREATEST BATTLE ON EARTH.
aka: GODZILLA VS. GHIDORAH.
aka: GHIDRA.
Director: Ishiro Honda.
Writer: Shin’ichi Sekizawa.
Starring: Yôsuke Natsuki, Yuriko Hoshi, Hiroshi Koizumi, Akiko Wakabayashi, Emi Itô, Yûmi Itô, Takashi Shimura, Akihiko Hirata, Hisaya Itô.
GODZILLA: Haruo Nakajima. GHIDORAH: Shoichi Hirose.
Version: Japanese with English dubbing.
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3 Comments on “GHIDORAH: THE THREE HEADED MONSTER”
A Critique of Jon Dunmore’s Review Style:
Jon Dunmore’s reviews often feel like they’re more about the critic than the film. While there’s no denying that his style is bold, it’s also frequently dismissive and overly snarky, which can overshadow any meaningful analysis. His approach tends to lean heavily on mockery, often choosing shock value over substance. Instead of thoughtfully exploring the material or its cultural significance, he seems more interested in using the review as an opportunity to belittle the film—and by extension, its fans.
Snark Over Substance:
One of the core issues with Dunmore’s approach is that his critiques often feel more like rants than reviews. Take Ghidorah: The Three-Headed Monster, for example. Rather than engaging with the film’s themes or looking at its place in the Godzilla series, he focuses on mocking the absurdity of the plot. Yes, the film has its silly moments (it’s a Godzilla movie, after all!), but there’s little to no effort to look at what the filmmakers were actually trying to achieve. Whether it’s a commentary on Japan’s postwar identity, its anxiety about nuclear power, or the way it reflects Japanese creativity in the face of global pop culture, Dunmore doesn’t take the opportunity to explore any of this. Instead, he resorts to crude jokes and insults, reducing the film to “dogshit” and “dogvomit,” which doesn’t add anything constructive to the conversation.
Hyperbole as Humor:
Dunmore seems to believe that the more exaggerated and outlandish his insults, the sharper his critique will seem. But there’s a difference between hyperbole that makes a point and hyperbole that just feels lazy. Calling a film “retarded” or mocking the monsters’ rubber suits with a barrage of juvenile language isn’t insightful—it’s a shorthand for actual criticism. Sure, it might get a laugh, but it doesn’t say anything meaningful about the film or the genre. Rather than offering a nuanced critique, Dunmore’s reviews often reduce everything to shock value and crude humor.
Dismissive Attitude Toward Fans:
Another issue with Dunmore’s reviews is the way he dismisses the fanbase. He seems to believe that anyone who enjoys these films is somehow lesser or “small-minded.” It’s not unusual for critics to have a different perspective on popular culture, but Dunmore often positions himself as the ultimate arbiter of taste, creating a divide between himself and anyone who dares to disagree. This creates an “us vs. them” mentality that doesn’t encourage thoughtful discourse—it just shuts it down. If you’re a fan of Godzilla, for example, you’re immediately lumped in with what he sees as the “lowbrow” audience, which can be off-putting.
A Missed Opportunity for Insight:
Film criticism is an opportunity to engage with a work on a deeper level, even when it’s a lighthearted or campy movie. Godzilla movies, with their giant monsters and rubber suits, may be over-the-top, but they’re also a reflection of Japan’s culture, anxieties, and creativity. Dunmore often misses the chance to tap into these layers in favor of making fun of the film’s absurdities. Instead of offering a thoughtful discussion of what makes the Godzilla franchise so iconic—whether it’s the themes of nuclear devastation, the cultural impact, or the sheer creativity of the creature designs—he focuses on the surface-level silliness, presenting it as something inherently beneath him.
Conclusion:
Jon Dunmore’s reviews, while certainly entertaining to some, often lack the depth and engagement that many fans and readers might appreciate. His reliance on snark and hyperbole detracts from any real conversation about the films he reviews. If you’re looking for a review that dives deep into the themes, history, and cultural significance of a film, you might not find it here. What Dunmore offers instead is a string of insults that, while humorous in small doses, can feel more dismissive than insightful. There’s room for criticism and humor in film reviews, but when the critique becomes more about mocking the film than analyzing it, the review falls short.
If you enjoy a no-holds-barred, take-no-prisoners review style, Dunmore’s approach might appeal to you. But if you’re seeking a thoughtful or balanced look at a movie, you might want to look elsewhere.
WHER WE PROVE DUNMORE HAS CHERIOPHOBIA
So I haven’t watched this one yet. But that won’t stop me from coming for your head.
“ I wonder how these Japanese filmmakers and the cult of Godzilla that support them have enough discernment not to put dogshit in their mouths and chew on it like expensive steak. Because someone who cannot tell that this finished film resembles dogshit must surely be starving to death; how are they able to pay their bills or be trusted to stop at red lights?”
Poffy believes that insulting filmmakers and a fanbase was APPARENTLY worth an entire paragraph of text. At this point, you have definite Cheriophobia. Quote from “healthline”, “ Cherophobia is a phobia where a person has an irrational aversion to being happy. The term comes from the Greek word “chero,” which means “to rejoice.” When a person experiences cherophobia, they’re often afraid to participate in activities that many would characterize as fun, or of being happy.” Sounds… familiar, to say the least. From here on out, I will call this man “Duncemore” (Don’t try to say Poffy made this, silly! After this it’s nap time for you!) You don’t deserve to be dignified, DUMBASS!
“ Nothing makes sense. Film is written like a 10-year-old making it up as he goes along (thanks to regular Godzilla scripter Shin’ichi Sekizawa): a meteor lands in Japan, births a three-headed golden, batwinged dragon (nee “space monster”) that starts laser-beaming toy cities, and is immediately named Ghidorah (how did they arrive at this name?); scientists visit the meteor, which is intermittently magnetic (which, it turns out, has nothing to do with anything for the rest of the movie – it’s not like Ghidorah is intermittently, or even actively, magnetic); a princess jumps out of her plane and reappears claiming to be a “Martian” who tells us her planet is dead due to Ghidorah, and that Martians have long lived undercover with humans; oh yeah, and they have the power of prophesy (which of course, NEVER comes true – she predicts the Earth is going to be destroyed by Ghidorah – doesn’t happen – yet NO ONE calls her on it). The detective who was assigned to protect the princess sees her pictured in the paper with a report about her being from Mars (front page news when reporters are this gullible!) and ponders, “Maybe she’s trying to elude her assassins!” Yeah, that’s right, by claiming to be a Martian and spreading her face over the front page of newspapers. Now no one will find her!”
I’m actually looking forward to watching this film, unlike a certain manchild who’s crying about how he’s bald. See I can be happy and proud of it 😉
“ And the fairies translate for the humans. Has my head exploded yet? American production companies shat on director Ishiro Honda‘s original GODZILLA (1954) by inserting Raymond Burr and a translator to cater to American audiences; seems Honda liked that dogshit idea so much, he used the technique himself to ruin one of his own movies.”
You see, I’m actually looking forward to watching this scene. I watch in the original Japanese because I understand it. I believe it will sound better.
“ It’s so retarded it’s FUN.”
This is why I said in the beginning, you have Cherophobia.
“ (Oh, by the way, Mothra is a “she” – I don’t care, I’m still going to call it a he. How can he be female if he carries such heavy loads of jizz?)”
THIS is why I sent death threats to your door. Blatant refusal to actually try to care about the source material? Good old check in that box.
“ Working with director Honda again seemed like a good call. Unfortunately, Shimura must have been unaware that by this stage Honda was actively trying to tunnel his career into a pile of dogshit.
Doubt it? Why then does Mothra the slug look like a trail of dog poo? Moth – or Metaphor ?
I rest my case, yeronner.”
AND THIS IS ANOTHER REASON WHY YOU DESERVE TO SLEEP WITH THE FISHES. Because he’s sooo insecure about having only 990 subscribers on his YouTube channel (go on that to harrasss his ass, by the way) that he must insult foreigners. I would have thought you were xenophobic. Turns out you just hate everything.
If you try and not make this one a full~fledged comment, I’llnknow which overgrown baby had a little tantrum.
You heard it here, folks. Always insult your audience. This green curved pipe says so.