A retconned Godzilla for a short attention span fandom.

A Scientist is reanimating monsters (nay, “titans”) from subterranean hibernation around the globe, to bring balance to Earth’s environment through their radioactivity. (Get it? They’re being “woke” in more ways than one.) A titan named Ghidorah makes all the others do his bidding, causing them to destroy rather than renew. Too late, it is discovered Ghidorah is not of this Earth but an alien interloper, a malignant despoiler, a “false king.”

And only one titan is powerful enough to overthrow this three-headed, bat-winged, fire-breathing dragon dubbed “King Ghidorah” – Godzilla! Teens swoon, men cheer, women wet.

GODZILLA: KING OF THE MONSTERS follows on the heels of its Legendary Pictures predecessor, 2014’s GODZILLA, cementing the eponymous titan in the psyche of Generation Z as the savior of humanity. Meaning they’ve got Godzilla ALL WRONG.

Toho Company’s original 1954 movie GODZILLA was a parable of nuclear abuse. The Japanese monster named Gojira, born from the radioactive hellfire of an American atom bomb, was a scarred mutation that lashed out at mankind in pain – in a tragic metaphor of Nature striking back at hubristic humanity. This 2019 Godzilla has apparently been around for eons, chilling in the “hollow Earth,” surfacing occasionally to right wrongs – he’s no parable, no metaphor, no victim – he’s a superhero.

The original 1956 movie called GODZILLA: KING OF THE MONSTERS was the atrocious American re-edit of the 1954 GODZILLA (inserting Raymond Burr as the “star,” with everyone speaking American), because white racist Norman Rockwell Americans didn’t know what Japanese people were, and couldn’t read subtitles. Nothing’s changed. That movie was a pile of dogshit. And with its arrogant re-editing and omission of American blame for the A-bomb dropped on Japan, it actually perpetuated the very racism and hubris that the original cut decried.

Back then, the title was idiotic because there was only one monster – Godzilla. In 2019, the title makes sense, with the revelation of a cavalcade of “monsters” under our toes, all paying obeisance to a tacit leader, nay, a king… a Monarch. Which also happens to be the name of the ambiguously evil corporation seeking out the monsters, led by Charles Dance, phoning it in something fierce.

Vera Farmiga is the environmental scientist who invents the “Orca” – an audio device that wakes and calms the titans. Millie Bobby Brown is Vera’s teen daughter (can we have a moratorium on introducing teen characters in movies wearing headphones listening to the latest douchebag pop sensation?), angered at Vera’s duplicity in raising the titans, which end up destroying Earth, telling her, “You’re a monster!” (Ha! Didja see what the filmmakers did there?—uh, yeh, because it’s—heh, irony…) Kyle Chandler is Vera’s estranged husband, who wants to kill all the titans with extreme prejudice. Somehow, these three civilians end up giving orders to all the military personnel around them, because that’s okay during times of Godzilla.

Ken Watanabe oozes gravitas in the most somber, credible role as historian Dr. Serizawa. Remember I said ‘Nothing’s changed’ in Americans not understanding there’s such a thing as Japanese people? Well, Serizawa clearly keeps calling the lead titan “Gojira” (since he applied this name to the creature when it was discovered in the last film, he definitely has naming priority), yet everyone ignores him and just calls it “Godzilla”! Deaf or racist? Choose one.

Sadly, Serizawa’s sidekick Sally Hawkins dies in this entry (even though her Q had noticeably risen since her gill-man affair in THE SHAPE OF WATER). Bradley Whitford is Generic Cubicle Guy, in a role supposed to be funny. Thomas Middleditch (SILICON VALLEY) is miscast in a role supposed to be serious. David Strathairn is the head Soldier, who, like all military men, can only get hard when ordering deathstrikes. Aisha Hinds is trying valiantly to be Okoye from BLACK PANTHER and failing. Joe Morton is the grown version of Corey Hawkins from the last film. And there’s Ice Cube’s son as a dumb grunt. (O’Shea Jackson’s role as Cube in STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPTON commanded respect; here, he is the voice of the dismayed audience – but, no thanks, I’d rather have someone represent me who sounded like they could read.)

These modern moviemakers (writer-director Michael Dougherty and co-writers Zach Shields and Max Bernstein) have begged, borrowed and stolen from the panoply of Godzilla canon, the whole shebang creaking under the weight of its homages, references, retcons and rejiggerings (only a few are listed here – consult your local YouTube nerd for a comprehensive “Easter Egg” list):

• Vera’s man-splaining about titans balancing the environment echoes THE RETURN OF GODZILLA, 1985 (Scientist: “When mankind falls into conflict with nature, monsters are born”);
• If you thought it was canny to connect Godz to the trendy enviro-movement, it was already done back in flower-power days, as Godz battled a Smog Monster literally birthed from chemical pollution in GODZILLA VS. HEDORAH (1971), and again messaged very explicitly in GODZILLA VS. MOTHRA (1992);
• They initially call Ghidorah “Monster Zero” (from GODZILLA VS. MONSTER ZERO 1965);
• Mothra was always accompanied by annoying twin interpreters/fairies; here, they represent the twins in a more subtle way with Ziyi Zhang;
• Soldier launches Oxygen Destroyer (a device from 1954’s original);
• Serizawa sacrifices himself (as his namesake did in 1954);
• Composer Akira Ifukube’s mighty 1954 Godzilla Theme raises Godz from the seas;
• Godzilla goes nuclear, about to explode (like GODZILLA VS. DESTOROYAH, 1995);
• Ghidorah shoots rays from his body – like Godz did in 2016’s SHIN GODZILLA;
• The concept of controlling the titans through soundwaves was introduced in 1968’s DESTROY ALL MONSTERS;
• Speaking of “Destroy All Monsters” – a protestor here has scrawled this on a picket sign.

Although Godzilla’s giant monster foes accrued into an impressive rogues’ gallery of various guys in rubber suits over the decades, there are only three featured here: Mothra (a rainbowed, 300-foot moth, that shoots a silly-string concoction that looks suspiciously like semen), Rodan (a pterosaur-like 250-foot bird, birthed from a volcano, leathered wings afire), and Ghidorah (the golden triple-dragon with 500-foot batwings). The rest are made-up passengers (Behemoth-mammoth, Scylla-spider, Methuselah-ankylosaur, Muto-Cloverfield monster). No more rubber suits. These juggernauts are rendered in such stunning CG photorealism, their interaction with each other and their surroundings has never been more awesome, in the truest sense of the word. All these titans bow down to Ghidorah – except Mothra, who jizzes on him.

Another Mothman sighting!

Though Mothra first battled Godzilla in GODZILLA VS. MOTHRA (1964), here she is re-rendered as “Queen of the Monsters,” playing for Team Godz. First of all, is she really a female with such heavy loads of jizz? And does being Queen mean she is married to Godzilla, a different species? I wanna see that sex tape.

The main event: the Ali vs. Frazier of daikaiju – Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah! Round 7. [ding ding!] Is it worth its weight in popcorn? Mostly. If the filmmakers didn’t feel the need to cutaway to the humans so often, screaming or awestruck or running between the legs of battling monsters (because that’s totally how you escape injury). Godzilla has battled this bat-demon at least 6 times; this time, Ghidorah is intent on terraforming Earth to his charred cinder specifications.

Godzilla and Ghidorah roar at each other, at opposite ends of the frame, across a desolate cityscape. This tableau was the Climax Shot for every film called Godzilla Versus [Insert Stupid Name]. It was usually followed by Godzilla half-running/skipping to meet his foe, who also half-ran/skipped towards Godzilla, who was usually wearing a headpiece that looked like the Cookie Monster. Thankfully – those days are long gone!

The visual effects teams have outdone themselves. Just look at that trailer shot of Godzilla rising in the rain. The lighting, the shadows, the runoff, the depth, the weight, the sound design… Now the Climax Shot will throw you back in your seat, as these new titans shake the very Earth as they thunder toward each other, roars like jet engines splitting the screen, clashing head-on in bone-breaking fury, camera tracking them low and pushing-in on the impact shot… It’s the most epic rendition of these icons ever!

The humans are a different story – rendered utterly useless to the plot. Like every Godzilla movie, there is the Scientist, the Soldier, the Politician, and the Annoying Kid. All shoehorning their picayune treacheries and disagreements into a world-girdling story in which they matter less than microbes.

Fearful talk of Godzilla’s radiation levels increasing, which will lead to a nuclear explosion. He starts glowing red in his empowered, heightened state, and then – that whole plot thread just peters out! Because they have to tease Godzilla versus Kong in the post-credits scenes. But they’ve reappropriated both of them as good guys; no more considered nasty beasts that kidnap white women. Who do we root for???

Thus will we separate the Kings from the Godz…

END

Publicity shot for DESTROY ALL MONSTERS. Japan say “WTF”?

Destroy All Credibility!

DESTROY ALL MONSTERS was planned as the last Godzilla film from Toho Company, which is why, we presume, legendary GOJIRA director Ishiro Honda, Just Doesn’t Give A Fuck anymore.

After aliens called Kilaaks gain control of the monsters on Monster Island (translated as “Monster Land” in the English dub), forcing them to destroy Earth cities, Japanese scientists battle for control of the transmitting frequencies to take back control of the monsters and attack the Kilaaks with their own medicine.

DESTROY ALL MONSTERS is a kiddie delight, featuring many Godzilla favorites roaring and breaking things in rubber suits – Godzilla himself (sporting his Cookie Monster headpiece), Minilla (Godzilla’s bizarre son), Rodan the bird-thing, Mothra (as a caterpillar only – guess they lost the moth outfit), King Ghidorah the three-headed golden dragon, Anguirus the ankylosaur-thing, Baragon, the deformed tyrannosaurus-thing (not the “rainbow” Barugon from GAMERA VS. BARUGON), Kumonga the spider, Manda the serpent, and a coupla other unnamed/arbitrary rubbers that I’ve never seen/noticed before.

On the other hand, if you’re an adult, your head will explode with the idiocy you are being asked to swallow in DESTROY ALL MONSTERS. Firstly – Monster Island: Mankind has been successful at herding all the monsters from Godzilla movies onto this one island and putting up virtual barriers (like electricity grids, magnetic shields, etc.) to keep them captive. That’s at least ten prequel movies right there! Secondly – this whole premise is based on a world acclimatized to the existence of “monsters”! What the hell?!

The United Nations building just looks like one big cookie
to Cookie Monster.

This word “monster” has gotten out of control. Its original meaning is “deviant” – an organism that does not conform to its species’ genetic structure.

Maybe Godzilla (being irradiated an’ all) might comply with the monster tag, but what are all the other organisms, like Anguirus and Rodan? Are they just regular versions of their species? If so, they’re not monsters. And if they are just species types how come there is only ONE of each of them?!

So maybe that’s why it’s better to use the Japanese word for these things – daikaiju.

Dialogue might be lost in translation from its original Japanese, so I am criticizing the stupidity of the translation as well as its intent: at the Moon base where they monitor Monster Island, one guy says, “The monsters look cute when you look at them from this angle.” Oh god. Captain Katsuo (Akira Kubo) calls his girlfriend on Earth; he “really thinks that monsters are here too. I can’t say for sure, but it worries me.” What evidence does he have? Besides bad screenwriting and translation. Again, sorry, Japan, for the humiliation you are put through by American studios.

But then – Katsuo is proven right! He discovers the subterranean base of the Kilaaks, controlling the monsters from the Moon! So I hear what writers Ishiro Honda and Kaoru Mabuchi are trying to say (i.e. the “monsters” are the aliens), and I again apologize, gentlemen, that your concepts came out so deformed in English.

Before he discovers the aliens in the Moon, Katsuo and his troops, who really love yellow jumpsuits, fly back to Earth (in a spaceship that looks suspiciously like Thunderbird 1) and find the people monitoring Monster Island mind-controlled by the Kilaaks. Katsuo meets the Kilaaks’ leader, a projection of a Japanese girl in a silvery bodysuit. Because that’s how all aliens communicate. The Kilaaks, from a small planet “moving between Mars and Jupiter,” blackmail Earth: “Let Kilaaks stay here and you live by their rules. If you agree, the monsters will go away.” (Which presumes that if Earth does not agree, the Kilaaks will continue to make the monsters destroy Earth, which means – no one wins?)

Rodan is attacking Moscow – and an American trying to do a Russian accent is heard reporting on the radio; Baragon attacks Paris – and a “French” accent is heard on the radio. And what about the old white guy with the “old white guy” voice. (Truly amateur hour with this American dub.) And Godzilla attacks New York, atomic breath and hawk-like scream/roar.

In an almost-powerful scene, the mind-controlled guy jumps out a window to his death; at his autopsy, they find a microchip behind his ear that was holding him under control. A good futuristic plot point. At THIS point, the Earth Commander orders Katsuo back to the Moon: “You will go underground with your spaceship.” Because ships built for space are also good for drilling into rock. Strangely enough, Katsuo somehow flies around underground in the Moon and finds the Kilaaks!

Godzilla can’t resist the sensual pull of Ghidorah’s three buttocks!

Katsuo’s team destroy the mind-control transmitter, and give control of the monsters to Earth. Now the real stupidness begins! When the Kilaaks find they have lost control of the monsters, they send King Ghidorah to attack all the monsters, including Godzilla, telling Earth: “Ghidorah is a space monster, so can’t be controlled by Earth.” Sounds reasonable.

And this is the point when DESTROY ALL MONSTERS devolves to squawk-roaring and girl-punching, until all the Earth monsters gang up and beat the snot out of Ghidorah. And then Godzilla – remember that guy? – finds the Kilaaks hidden base and kicks it in. Then all the monsters skulk on back to Monster Island. And we wonder how they got out in the first place with their unbreachable barriers. And upon returning, are they going to reactivate their barriers to keep themselves locked in, even after they’ve helped mankind for no reward? Our heroes fly over in a helicopter and smile and wave, and it’s all we can do to hold in the vomit…

Even though this was the last supposed Godzilla movie, full marks to the model-makers, who still went to all that trouble building those landmarks and little cities, replete with heavy artillery (tanks, trucks, missile launchers, etc.) only to have them annihilated. Also, the producers had to get all those sweaty rubber suits out of storage at the same time, so in one sense, they were trying for a BIG sendoff for the Big Guy. However, it only diluted Godzilla’s role by having so many rubbers taking up screentime. And no one did anything to curb the goofiness that had overtaken the character immediately after his inception. To wit: that’s still the Cookie Monster headpiece.

Honda would go on to direct the next installment GODZILLA’S REVENGE (aka ALL MONSTERS ATTACK), which seemed like he was giving Even Less Of A Fuck, as that movie was made up of stock footage stitched together with new cheap scenes. Only after that embarrassment would Godzilla be partially redeemed with writer-director Yoshimitsu Banno’s socially-conscious GODZILLA VS. THE SMOG MONSTER. Then four films in succession that marked the nadir of Godzilla’s Showa Series (still using Cookie Monster), until the Heisei Series reboot (replete with vicious new headpiece) in 1984 with THE RETURN OF GODZILLA.

It wasn’t too late for Godzilla to regain his cred; it sadly was too late for Ishiro Honda.

END

Godzilla with wings.

Prehistoric Pteranodon destroys Japanese city. Military weapons have no effect on it. Burying it under a volcano works though. Such is the prosaic plot behind RODAN, a Japanese monster movie made while Godzilla wasn’t looking.

The movie itself has its strong points, due to the talent involved – literally, the full team that brought us the original and best GODZILLA (1954): director Ishiro Honda, writer Takeo Murata, producer Tomoyuki Tanaka, and even composer Akira Ifukube. The new beast they belch forth, RODAN, is not as epic and tragic a figure as Godzilla, but its debut here is far from the swill Toho Company would later churn out like dog poop through a sausage maker.

Written like a mystery thriller, and constructed along the eerie lines of the American horror production THEM!, Rodan does not even appear until the 50-minute mark of this 74-minute film! And then we get two of him! (Purely for the tear-jerking ending, as you will see.)

It’s always dicey watching the American edit of any Toho Company film, and RODAN doesn’t escape the editor’s sharp, stupid knife, as U.S. Production company The King Brothers inserts over 4 minutes of hydrogen bomb test footage as the intro – which has nothing to do with the rest of the movie. In GODZILLA, the American edit excised all references to America and the H-bomb; now they seem to want to crow their stunning achievement in death and debilitation; in poetic flourishes that display incognizant bluntheadedness and a jaw-dropping hubris. (It’s the same soulless indecency and criminal stupidity exhibited by George W. Murderer and his Pimp Cheney illegally torturing prisoners and then congratulating themselves in public for doing so – and remaining free. Nothing’s changed.)

So do we surmise the H-bomb spawned Rodan? But nowhere else in the movie is the H-bomb mentioned; Rodan is identified as a prehistoric creature that was hibernating in a deep volcano, and only the interference of mining so deep roused him from his egg.

Also in the American edit, we have to put up with lead character Shigeru (Kenji Sahara) narrating – an American dubber putting on a Japanese accent, and speaking for this character, who doesn’t have narration in the original film.

Like THEM, early scenes where people are disappearing are eerie, but – also like THEM – only until the monsters are revealed; until that giant caterpillar shambles around the corner and we giggle, because we see it’s just two guys in a caterpillar suit like a pantomime horse (one guy in the front thorax and another guy in the back thorax).

And what eats giant caterpillars? Why, a giant bird of course! But we spend the whole second act not knowing what it is – Rodan first appears as a mysterious supersonic “UFO,” outracing jets and destroying them, then toppling bridges and buildings. The mystery unfolds slowly, with good use of flashbacks. When we eventually see the giant bird, it is effective, because we know the power it possesses.

The somber young Akihiko Hirata (who played tragic, eye-patched Dr. Serizawa in GODZILLA) is the lead scientist. But he is not like the conservationist Dr. Yamane character in GODZILLA – there is no heft given at all to keeping the Rodan creature alive for study or conservation. This movie is purely humans-good, creatures-bad.

Cue toy planes. When the toy planes fail, bring in the toy tanks! When they too fail, blow up the volcano where the creatures live. Padding explosivus maximus. Then the climactic moment, which I’m sure must have been played more poignantly in the Japanese version: one Rodan catches on fire and falls to her death on the lava. The other Rodan, rather than leave his mate’s side, tries to save her but is also engulfed in flames.

I’m giving this version a pass because I’ve seen how horrendously American edits butcher Japanese movies, but I believe the Japanese team wanted to play this creature the same way they played Godzilla being shaken from his home and retaliating; blameless nature at the hands of technology, etc. None of this comes across in this version of the film, but I’m sure that thematic content is on some American cutting room floor, otherwise why bother inserting that U.S. bigdick explosion in the front of the film?

Toho Company would later connect Rodan to Godzilla. And all hope was lost…

END

Gigan Mk II: monster, murderer, sushi chef.

Final Bores.

GODZILLA: FINAL WARS – the movie where every single Godzilla enemy turns up to try out their new rubber suit design, and where each line of dialogue makes no sense in the context of the line just before it.

It’s Godzilla’s 50th anniversary, his 29th film, and the 6th and final film in the Millennium series… and aliens from Planet X appear again, having traded in their disco spandex for some righteous Clive Owen longcoats. Unfortunately, they bring the same contradictory stupidity they displayed in GODZILLA VS. MONSTER ZERO (1965). Let me count the ways:

Giant monsters are busy destroying the Earth. Planet X teleports them away, then threatens Earth: “We are going to send these monsters to destroy your planet!” Uhm… weren’t they just doing that, X-dopes?

Leader X-alien (Kazuki Kitamura) tells captured humans, “We want to harvest you alive.” His next line – to his alien cohorts – about the humans: “Kill them.” Uh, that’s not exactly what ‘alive’ means, sir…

Our hero Ozaki (Masahiro Matsuoka, the Japanese Keanu Reeves) is lasered by X-Leader, along with everyone else. No one dies or anything – it’s basically just a lightshow. Suddenly, Ozaki becomes Neo and can stop the lasers from hitting them. It didn’t matter anyway because no one was dying from them. That same power, unfortunately, cannot be used to stop a Sweet Japanese Flying Sidekick.

Deus ex Gigana: After all the monsters are defeated, including a sleeker Gigan, THAT’S when X-idiot sends “a new, more powerful Gigan.” You couldn’t send him out sooner, before the ass-kickings? Complete with sushi-chainsaws for arms, Gigan Mk II is so dangerous he slices his own head off. (He must’ve seen the script. No wonder they didn’t send this doofus out earlier.)

In his first movie role, American Ultimate Fighting champion Don Frye, his voice a raspy croak after it navigates the labyrinth of that humongous porn-stache. The aliens can teleport, yet apparently not out of the way of his Sweet American Right Hook.

Leaping Lizards: Godzilla, King Caesar and Rodan play soccer using Anguirus as the ball.

FINAL WARS is another movie I tried to watch as if “not a Godzilla movie.” Apart from its first battle sequence between enhanced humans (which was reasonably good) and the surprising quality of the effects (hologram computers, sets that look only half-plastic), as soon as monsters appear after the first hour, it quickly loses its brain.

The new monster designs are pretty righteous – but then again, we’re only comparing them to other Godzilla movies where the suits looked like a 5-years-old’s idea of scary monsters. Now they look like a 9-year-old’s idea of scary monsters. Monsters include: Gigan, Gigan Mk II, Rodan (with dynamic new flight mode), Manda, Mothra (and his annoying twin bitches), King Ghidorah, Anguirus, King Caesar, Minilla (Godzilla’s son), Kamacuras (mantis), Kumonga (giant spider), Ebirah (lobster), Hedorah (the smog monster), Keizer Ghidorah (a new monster’s first and only appearance in Godz cinema), and even Zilla (the only computer-animated monster here, basically a cheap GODZILLA 1998 animation, that they heap derision on, in keeping with inexplicable public derision of that movie – “stupid, tuna-eating monster”). Obviously director Ryûhei Kitamura and the four writers don’t subscribe to Less is More. And where’s Jet Jagaaa?

What the actual fuck?!

There is character development between Ozaki and the other hero soldier Kazama (Kane Kosugi), and a subplot involving their mutant DNA and its ties to Planet X. Mutant DNA and X, you say? Yes, there is the odd reference to X-Man, but not in that Marvel way.

It’s pointless trying to describe the asinine plot because there IS none. It’s a 10-year-old fight-game fantasy that moves from one action sequence to the next with no thought to why. The trailer is the movie: a senseless mashup of explosions, fistfights and big dumb rubber. Dynamic posing, people running in the air, jiu-jitsu, lasers shot from hands, a motorbike chase that is padding deluxe, teleporting, mind-control, badass leather longcoats, toyt Japanese women, and lots of oouwah!

For its production values 10,000 light years ahead of all other Godzilla movies up to this point (excepting 1998’s ROLAND-ZILLA), it deserves some credit. I can see why some fans contend this is their “favorite Godzilla movie” because the monster action is sensational (again, compared to other Godzilla movies); if they had just kept the plot around the monster fights simplistic, the movie might have been salvageable, but it’s just too tiresome trying to work our minds through the convoluted contradictory dialogue. In the end, after all the double-think explanations, it makes no sense at all why monsters are appearing at the same time all over the Earth. And Godzilla stomping the globe and killing them is not only pointless, but impossible, if he only travels at that lethargic stomping speed or even at that slightly faster swimming speed. Which begs the question: What the hell is wrong with those fans?

If you know the names of all these monsters, please get a life.

One small thoughtful moment while a farmer drives Minilla around (which is wasted immediately because he’s driving Minilla around): “Long before you were born, humans did a terrible thing that made Godzilla very angry. Humans made a gigantic fire that caused destruction. Godzilla has never forgiven them.”

Barring two films in the Millennium series (GODZILLA AGAINST MECHAGODZILLA and GODZILLA: TOKYO SOS), these films all adopted the stance of direct sequel to 1954’s original, ignoring the whole Showa and Heisei series, and even the other Millennium series films around them!

So I’m going to make like this series and ignore this movie.

END

When the X-Men costumes were much less gay.

The Shark Jumpty Dance.

GODZILLA VS. MONSTER ZERO is a perfect exemplar of why Godzilla movies are so bad. And – I know what you’re thinking – it’s NOT because of the guys in the rubber suits. It’s because even within the world of the movie – Nothing. Makes. Sense.

This movie – like so many other “Godzilla movies” of its era – is so badly written, with such poor understanding of motivation and plot, with such juvenile construction, that every aspect of the production is affected adversely, from the acting, to the hideous translations, to the Neanderthal misapprehension of space travel. The rubber suits then just add gravy to a film already execrable on so many other levels.

Aliens from “Planet X” capture two Earth astronauts and ask permission of them to “borrow” Godzilla and Rodan to rid their planet of Monster Zero. (Relax, Godz fans: “Monster Zero” is just what the aliens call Ghidorah. Yes, that same old golden dragon with the three waggly heads. The lame name change was done for the same reason producers changed Godzilla’s name to Gigantis in GODZILLA RAIDS AGAIN. They thought to bring in more viewers with a “new monster.” Times were different, audiences were different, venality was the same.) In return for lending Godzilla and Rodan, the aliens (who all speak Japanese badly dubbed with English thankfully) promise the cure for cancer.

So these two astronauts (one of them a literal golden-haired American boy named Nick Adams, who was only cast to bring in American viewers – again, that old black magic called venality – an even worse actor than his Japanese counterparts) return to Earth and report to authorities, who do nothing, because Godzilla is not theirs to schlub around! Doesn’t matter in the least, because the aliens have traveled to Earth on the heels of our astroknobs and take Godzilla and Rodan up in “electromagnetic bubbles.” (In other words, the aliens can control both monsters at whim by encasing them in inescapable bubbles. Hold that thought…)

Is this where SON OF GODZILLA came from?

The Big G ‘n R proceed to throw rocks at Ghidorah on Planet X and perform all manner of doing nothing much, and succeed in driving him off! Hooray! If only veteran Godzilla scripter Shin’ichi Sekizawa understood the concept that if a civilization possessed interstellar travel it would also possesses NUCLEAR TECHNOLOGY that could do ONE BILLION TIMES the damage of rock-throwing and fire-breathing, then this scene wouldn’t be so fucking senseless! Why aren’t these interstellar aliens employing that technology on Ghidorah? Answer: Because though he writes space travel into his story, Sekizawa hasn’t got the faintest clue what space travel indicates about a society.

So the Earthlings are given a reel tape containing the cure for cancer. (They’re an alien interstellar species… it’s a good thing they still use REEL TAPES!)

When the two astrodoofs play the reel back on Earth, it’s not the expected cancer cure, it’s the alien commandant’s voice informing them Earth is being taken over by Planet X, and that Ghidorah, Godzilla and Rodan are under the aliens’ control, ready to destroy Earth’s  cities.

I just have one teeny tahny teensy little question for the meathead who wrote this Shakespearean epic: IF THE ALIENS COULD EXERT CONTROL OVER ALL THREE MONSTERS FROM THE VERY BEGINNING, WHY GO THROUGH THAT CHARADE OF ASKING FOR HELP AND TRANSPORTING GODZILLA AND RODAN TO PLANET X, TO HAVE THEM BATTLE GHIDORAH, AND THEN TRANSPORTING ALL THREE MONSTERS BACK TO EARTH? THEY ALWAYS HAD CONTROL OVER ALL THREE OF THEM. WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THE LAST HOUR AND 15 MINUTES OF THIS MOVIE? Consequently, what could possibly be the point in the last fifteen minutes?

Or how about the Jail Escape scene: our two heroes are behind bars in an alien spaceship (an interstellar alien race still uses BARS for imprisonment?). One of our heroes pulls out a noisemaker that disrupts the aliens. He turns it on: one alien falls to the floor holding his head in anguish, while the other… please move back while my head explodes again… while the other holds his head and runs toward the jail bars holding the key aloft – ACTING! – allowing our heroes to neck-grab him and extract the key from his hand! Now I know the script says our heroes have to escape this cell. And this child-acting and baby-plotting is the most plausible way they can do that?

The tragedy – the utter tragedy – is that the man helming this dungcastle brought the one true GODZILLA to life in 1954. We can see intimations of director Ishiro Honda‘s past greatness in some of his ambitious shots, like a spaceship landing on an alien planet with Jupiter in the background. But all the creative shots in the world can’t save him from the hot mess of the wretchedly constructed story. Apparently, after his shining moment in ’54, director Honda would degenerate to Good Company Man, and produce whatever turd the Toho Company put in front of him without question. As proven by this dogvomit. We have to ask ourselves: was GODZILLA 1954 a fluke? Literally, every single other Godzilla movie that Honda worked on – and he worked on many – is a testament to atrocious filmmaking. And again I say – IT’S NOT THE GUYS IN SUITS. It’s the guys in the other suits – the business suits. The executives at Toho Company. And the poor guys in the rubber suits became the most identifiable factors when the other execrable aspects of these movies made them nigh unwatchable.

Though a 10,000 page treatise could be written on the flaws in this movie, I’ve had enough. Go do something productive, like throwing rocks through Toho Company’s windows…

END

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