Tyrannozilla Godzasaurus.
2204 A.D. A two-man sub circles an undersea grave of a gigantic three-headed dragon named King Ghidorah. Computers reveal three necks but only two heads, the woman in the sub telling the man, “It originally had three, when it fought Godzilla in the 20th century.”
CUT TO: 1992 A.D.
Intriguing. But GODZILLA VS. KING GHIDORAH gets stupid very quickly, as the authorities send Godzilla in to stop Ghidorah wrecking Japan, then have to send in a Mecha-Ghidorah to stop Godzilla wrecking Japan after he stopped Ghidorah wrecking Japan…
Writer-director Kazuki Ohmori (who brought us this movie’s predecessor, GODZILLA VS. BIOLLANTE) pens a convoluted tale of Visitors from the future who time-machine back to 1992 to warn Japan that it has ceased to exist in the 23rd century due to Godzilla’s destruction. They aim to travel even further back in time to World War II, to stop Godzilla being irradiated when he was just a dinosaur (you know, back in 1944 when dinosaurs used to roam free across Japan), and teleport the un-radiated dinosaur forward to 1992 where it will be safe… you know, from all those humans.
Told you it was convoluted. And stupid.
The three Visitors from the future are: an American named Chuck Wilson, playing a mannequin-faced Visitor named Chuck Wilson – no, I’m serious; another American playing a guy named Grenchiko, and a Japanese woman (Anna Nakagawa) who introduces herself as, “Emmy Kano. I’m Japanese.” (Uh, nobody asked.) They request to take three people back in time with them – Terasawa (Kosuke Toyohara), a young writer with a kinda Australian dubbed accent, whose research book about Godzilla (published in the future) they regard as gospel; a dinosaur expert, Professor Mazaki (Katsuhiko Sasaki), and Miki (Megumi Odaka), a psychic chick – wait—what? She oughta be a BIG help!
With production values pretty mid-range (which is high-end for a GODZILLA flick), we wonder why this story keeps sinking lower into imbecility. First question: Why teleport the dinosaur HERE to 1992? Why not to 65 million BC?
One of the subplots involves a soldier from WWII, now a businessman named Shindo (Yoshio Tsuchiya), who claims that a dinosaur saved his troops against American forces. He is regarded as a nutter, but when the Visitors and our modern heroes travel back to 1944, they see this incident take place, as Shindo’s cornered Japanese troops are rejuvenated when a “tyrannosaur” rampages through the Americans, who shoot it down in their retreat. As his men all gather round, Shindo gives praise to the dying dinosaur for saving them.
The movie is basically retconning a tyrannosaur as the progenitor of the totally-differently-shaped Godzilla. Apparently, it was hit by an A-bomb after they left, and it came back to life as Godz. They know they’re talking bullshit though, as they pull out a picture of the dinosaur from 1944 (a Japanese monster suit that kinda looks like a tyrannosaur if you have just woken from a coma) and Terasawa says, “Godzilla’s head is smaller than a tyrannosaurus – but look closely at its eyes and face.” Don’t you mean get drunk first, then squint real hard at its eyes and face?
By the halfway point, the plot is such a mess that we don’t even question the Japanese girl, Emmy, introducing the passengers on the time-machine to “Dorats” – three reptilian puppets with bat-wings that are supposedly irredeemably cute; the Godzilla version of Ewoks, I guess. Emmy: “They’ll be very handy if we get lost, because they can always cheer us up.” Jesus! I thought she was going to say they have powerful homing instincts or something! How stupid of me.
The time machine is piloted by an android, M-11 (Robert Scott Field), who turns from the underhanded evil intent of the Visitors, when he is reprogrammed by Emmy to be cool like Wolverine.
And what is the intent of the Visitors? They want to bring Godzilla back to actually destroy Japan because it is too powerful in the future. Instead, the three Dorats they released get irradiated and turn into King Ghidorah – which is terrorizing Japan when they get back to 1992. And the dinosaur they teleported to the bottom of the sea has turned into Godzilla in the present anyway, because of a downed nuclear sub. But wait: why did they teleport that dinosaur to the sea bed when they wanted to bring back Godzilla to destroy Japan? Who knows? Not the writer-director surely…
So one hour into the movie, at last Godzilla rises from the sea to destroy Ghidorah. Then goes on a rampage himself, being Godzilla. Better budget means real tanks, and stock footage of real Tomcat jets can attack the process shot named Godzilla. So the feature of these films – Godzilla battling monsters – was delayed until an hour into the film. Then, the usual bashing and breaking and roaring and funny non-physics wrestling moves come into play. The model makers are once again to be commended for their impeccable, intricate work on miniature buildings and structures doomed to destruction from the outset.
Emmy returns from the future inside a King Mecha-Ghidorah, operating its moves (don’t even ask – because I seriously have no clue how this robot Ghidorah suddenly exists!) and both monsters destroy many more buildings in pitched battle before they both fall unconscious into the deep ocean, which happens to be right near the coastline of Japan.
Akira Ifukube is back – the original composer of the 1954 GODZILLA score brings his epic thunder back to Godzilla for the first time since 1975’s TERROR OF MECHAGODZILLA. It’s the one good thing about this movie. And Godzilla’s sharp teeth and gums!
The effects department flex their muscle, with budget for “holograms,” convincing process shots, laser guns like STAR WARS, expansive miniature cities, lots of lightning from Ghidorah and awe-inspiring atomic breath from Godzilla, yet the dubbing is incredibly annoying, everyone enunciating like they’re explaining things to little kids. No surprise, as the simpleton actions in the story can only be appreciated by little kids: for example, the anatomically incorrect tyrannosaur terrorizes the Americans on the beach, so the captain in the ship offshore yells, “It’s a dinosaur – commence firing!” His lieutenant just yells “Fire!” and immediately the ship’s guns go ballistic on the dino – no coordinates, no thought of their men in the target area, no sense on Earth how this even happens instantaneously! Or how about: Shindo the Japanese commander hears his men dying outside, then suddenly he hears large thuds and men screaming (as the tyrannosaur approaches). Without looking outside, without any thought that it might be an earthquake or shells exploding, his first words are, “Dinosaur!” Because that’s the only other thing it could be in 1944 Lagos.
“It’s possible that after they were exposed to radiation, the three Dorats merged into one giant monster named King Ghidorah!” Yeh, that’s totally possible.
One guy plants explosives and says to the other, “Go ahead!” and the second guy presses the detonator saying, “Make my day!” Dirty Harry’s coming for you, Ohmori!
A TERMINATOR moment when M-11 is in a car crash, then exits the burning car with scars on his head and arms that reveal steel endoskeleton under his skin. Then, in a Jeff East-like slomo strut, he runs down the car he was chasing and stops it with his mandroid strength. James Cameron’s coming for you, Ohmori!
The moment that elevates this film starts as a poignant reunion, as rampaging Godzilla comes face-to-face with Shindo on a balcony – the soldier that honored him on Lagos Island in 1944 as he “died” as a dinosaur. There is pause, a flickering of recognition, tears edge Shindo’s eyes, as he sees this force of nature calm for a moment, searching its painful memories. They gaze at each other across time… then Godz fires up his atomic breath and blows the building to hell! This movie’s rating just went up from 4 to 5 Cukees!
END
GODZILLA VS KING GHIDORAH (Dec 1991) | UnratedDirector, Writer: Kazuki Ohmori.
Music: Akira Ifukube.
Starring: Kosuke Toyohara, Anna Nakagawa, Megumi Odaka, Katsuhiko Sasaki, Akiji Kobayashi, Tokuma Nishioka, Yoshio Tsuchiya, Chuck Wilson, Richard Berger, Robert Scott Field, Kenpachiro Satsuma.
GODZILLA: Kenpachiro Satsuma. KING GHIDORAH: Hurricane Ryu Hariken. GODZILLA-SAURUS: Wataru Fukuda.
Version: U.S. edit, English dub.
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You say Ghidorah, I say Tomato…
The way they pronounce King Ghidorah in this film, and the fact that the “King” was not added to many of the earlier English dubs, makes me wonder at Ghidorah’s real name. Just as Godzilla is a Western bastardization of Gojira, I’ll bet this Ghidorah moniker is something totally different as well.
Turns out that Toho bows to the masses and have licensed the name “King Ghidorah” to Western markets. And have reverse-engineered it to sound like its Western epithet. In this film’s old trailer, we hear the Japanese narrator saying, “Kingu Ghidorah” as an obvious pander to the added “King.”
But it started out as: Ghee-do-Rah, or just Ghee-drah. Then the King was added: King Ghidorah. Now, in this film, the pronunciation is Kinga-DOR-a. Making it sound like the “king” phonetic was always just a part of the monster’s name that had nothing to do with actual “kings.” But I have a sneaking suspicion that NO ONE KNOWS what that golden monster’s name is anymore.
One Comment on “GODZILLA VS. KING GHIDORAH”
Jon Dunmore’s “Review” of Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah: A Sea of Confusion, Petty Snark, and Misguided Superiority
Let’s cut straight to the chase: Jon Dunmore’s review of Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah is an absolute mess—a bloated, incoherent rant that does more to prove his own lack of comprehension and maturity than it does to offer any genuine insight into the film itself. If the goal here was to showcase his superiority over fans who love this series, then Dunmore succeeds, but it’s a Pyrrhic victory—because in the process, he turns himself into a condescending, self-satisfied, uninformed hack who can’t grasp the simplest tenets of what makes Godzilla movies appealing.
1. Unrelenting Mockery with Zero Substance:
Dunmore’s entire approach to reviewing Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah is like a petulant child throwing a tantrum in the middle of a movie theater. Rather than offering a legitimate critique, he resorts to an endless stream of insults, ridiculous exaggerations, and dismissive one-liners. He calls the film “stupid” and “convoluted” repeatedly, as though these are the only criticisms a movie can possibly have. Where’s the actual analysis? Where’s the thoughtful breakdown of why the film doesn’t work or where it excels? Instead, Dunmore spends the review acting as though he’s the lone intellectual on a deserted island, with the rest of us lowly Godzilla fans doomed to suffer in ignorance. And all the while, he’s busy smirking at the “imbecility” of it all, making sure to remind us how much smarter he is than anyone who actually enjoys this silly monster romp.
Let’s be clear: Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah is certainly not a bastion of high-minded cinema, but it’s far from the “mindless nonsense” Dunmore claims it to be. And if you don’t get the appeal of watching giant monsters fight, that’s on you—not the film.
2. An Ignorant, Lazy Approach to the Plot:
For someone who seems so eager to shred the movie apart for its convoluted plot, Dunmore is shockingly unaware of the larger context in which this movie exists. Yes, the time travel mechanics and the plot twist about the Dorats turning into King Ghidorah are absurd. But Godzilla movies have always dealt with strange, nonsensical plot points—whether it’s time travel, mutants, aliens, or the random appearances of new kaiju that make no sense. That’s part of the charm! It’s part of the genre. So when Dunmore laments how “stupid” the plot is, he’s either forgotten or has never grasped that Godzilla films are designed to be fun, over-the-top spectacles that sometimes play fast and loose with logic. If you’re looking for coherent time travel or grounded storytelling, you’re better off watching 12 Monkeys than a Godzilla movie.
Dunmore’s failure to see the film for what it is—goofy, colorful escapism—is a glaring flaw in his “criticism.” Instead of laughing along with the absurdity, he holds it against the movie, completely ignoring the fact that Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah is about spectacle and fun, not winning any Academy Awards for storytelling. His fixation on the plot holes—while valid on a surface level—is a classic case of missing the forest for the trees.
3. Infantilizing the Film:
Dunmore’s condescending tone takes a turn for the worse when he dismisses the film as “simpleton actions for little kids,” mocking the characters and their dialogue as if we’re watching some kind of preschool drama. Yes, the characters are often one-dimensional and the dialogue can be silly—this is a Godzilla film, not Citizen Kane! But the way Dunmore talks down to both the film and its audience reveals an utter lack of understanding about the cultural context of these films. Godzilla is a franchise that has always aimed at both kids and adults, with its monstrous spectacle being tempered by a healthy dose of camp and fun. It’s a genre that thrives on absurdity and larger-than-life characters and events. Dunmore, instead, treats the film as though it’s a betrayal of some highbrow cinematic ideal he’s clinging to, as if Godzilla were meant to be a piece of sophisticated art.
It’s clear from Dunmore’s review that he doesn’t understand what makes these films beloved by so many. The enjoyment of a Godzilla movie comes from a balance of spectacle, absurdity, and a certain level of self-awareness. If you can’t appreciate that, maybe the problem is with your expectations, not the movie.
4. Pointless, Mean-Spirited Nonsense:
Dunmore’s review reaches its nadir with his totally unnecessary and unfunny mockery of the film’s characters, like the bizarre focus on Emmy’s line, “I’m Japanese.” Did he seriously just mock this line because it’s, what, too direct? “Uh, nobody asked,” he quips, as though the existence of Japanese characters in a Japanese film is somehow worthy of ridicule. His need to belittle the characters for something so trivial comes across as needlessly mean-spirited, as if any interaction in the film that doesn’t conform to his very specific expectations of what it should be is immediately worthy of scorn.
And the complaints about the Dorats? Seriously? These creatures are a quirky, goofy part of the movie’s charm, but Dunmore treats them as a sign of the film’s idiocy, dismissing them outright without even the slightest acknowledgment of the humor or imagination involved. He calls them “irredeemably cute” in a mocking tone, yet fails to grasp that Godzilla movies often operate on a level of camp and absurdity that make these creatures, bizarre as they are, feel like an essential part of the movie’s fun. The film isn’t trying to make The Godfather with this subplot; it’s having fun with ridiculousness.
5. Incompetence in Criticism:
Let’s talk about Dunmore’s shocking lack of attention to detail. He criticizes the film for moments that are either too trivial or too typical of the Godzilla genre to warrant the level of scorn he heaps on them. The absurdity of the time machine and the notion of bringing a “dinosaur” to 1992 is acknowledged and brushed aside by everyone involved in the movie, because they know it’s a crazy setup for the main event: the monster battles. But Dunmore can’t resist, and instead of engaging with the fun, he lets his confusion over the story fester into an overly negative review.
For instance, he mocks the fact that they’re trying to turn a dinosaur into Godzilla, but isn’t that the whole point of these kaiju movies? The origin story of Godzilla has always been bathed in science fiction absurdity. The film doesn’t take itself seriously enough to demand the kind of high-level logic that Dunmore craves. But rather than seeing the humor and silliness, he takes it as some major flaw, as though this kind of narrative leap is in any way unusual for a Godzilla movie.
And then there’s the “Terminator moment” with M-11, which Dunmore criticizes for being derivative of The Terminator. Well, yeah, it is derivative. But you know what? It’s a fun, pulpy homage to one of the most iconic science fiction films of the 1980s, and Godzilla has always thrived on borrowing and playing with popular genre tropes. But Dunmore can’t appreciate that either. Instead, he just throws it on the heap of “stupid” moments without offering any reflection on the creativity involved.
6. Total Lack of Cultural Understanding:
It’s worth pointing out that Dunmore’s review also reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of Godzilla’s place within Japanese culture. The original Godzilla was created as a response to the horrors of nuclear warfare, and its legacy has grown to include satire, absurdity, and, yes, even childlike wonder. It’s a franchise that has evolved over time, yet Dunmore never once acknowledges the cultural significance of Godzilla in Japan or its influence on global pop culture. Instead, he just dumps all over the film as if it’s a failure because it doesn’t adhere to his own narrow standards.
Conclusion: Jon Dunmore’s review of Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah is a masterclass in misguided elitism and pointless scorn. It’s a piece that can’t see past its own self-righteousness to appreciate the charm, absurdity, and fun of the Godzilla franchise. Dunmore’s unwillingness to accept a movie on its own terms—goofy, over-the-top, and absurd—is the real issue here, and he spends most of the review confusing personal preference with objective criticism. Rather than understanding the film’s place within its genre, he makes the mistake of applying a rigid, unrealistic standard to something that was never meant to be anything but a fantastical, loud, and fun spectacle.
In short, if you want a thoughtful, nuanced critique of Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah, look elsewhere. Dunmore’s review is a showcase of how to miss the point completely while reveling in the smug satisfaction of thinking you’re smarter than everyone else in the room.“