Giant monster movies can be traced as far back as the 1930s if not earlier, but the threat of nuclear warfare brought the genre into a new era with the release of The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms in 1953. The movie introduced the idea of atomic-created creatures wreaking havoc on mankind, an idea that would fuel many a Hollywood sci-fi flick during the '50s and '60s. It would also bring us one of the most enduring and beloved icons to ever come out of Japanese pop culture: the one and only Godzilla. Inspired by The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms and Japan's still tender wounds following the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the monster known in his native land as "Gojira" has appeared in no less than thirty movies over the years. But every legend has to begin somewhere, so let's go back in time sixty years to Godzilla's first appearance in 1954 and see where the "King of the Monsters" got his start.
With a flash of light and an ominous roar, a fishing boat off the coast of tiny Odo Island is destroyed. A rescue vessel sent to investigate meets a similar fate, its survivors returning to the island swearing that they'd encountered an enormous beast. Their story oddly parallels old local legends about villagers who, long ago, would make sacrifices to appease an ancient sea monster named "Godzilla." Common sense might dictate that these stories are indeed just that, stories. So when these old tales prove themselves true and evidence of Godzilla's existence appears on Odo Island, everyone is naturally taken off guard. But no one is truly prepared for what happens when he surfaces in Tokyo.
Awakened by the recent nuclear weapons testing in the Pacific Ocean, the arrival of this prehistoric, dinosaur-like creature sends the people of Japan into a panic. Godzilla proves to be unfazed by every attempt to combat it, shrugging off the military's heavy artillery as he rampages through Tokyo. The government turns to renowned scientist Dr. Daisuke Serizawa (Akihiko Hirata), who has developed a powerful, top-secret weapon ominously named "the Oxygen Destroyer." Dr. Serizawa is extremely hesitant to allow it to be used, fearful of the dire consequences that would incur if it were to be used for the wrong reasons. But as Godzilla continues his reign of terror, the Oxygen Destroyer might be Japan's only hope.
When most people nowadays think of the classic Godzilla movies from Japan, they think of campy movies with bad English dubbing and actors in rubber suits stepping on cardboard buildings and fighting military vehicles that look like toys. But the original movie is actually different from the silliness from the '60s and '70s that most American audiences might be familiar with. It's in truth really more a blend of drama and horror than anything else. The titular monster is a walking, living, fire-breathing embodiment of the atomic bomb, the personification of a fiery nuclear terror and of a fear that said terror could potentially return. This is reflected in the movie's somber atmosphere, one that makes the movie feel as if a dark cloud were hanging over it.
Much of this is thanks to the skillful direction courtesy of the late Ishirō Honda, who would direct six more Godzilla movies (and in the process helped to introduce the world to other classic creatures like Mothra, Rodan, and King Ghidorah) before his retirement in 1975. But movies like this weren't so common in 1954, their tropes and clichés not really fully defined yet. That put Honda in relatively uncharted waters with Godzilla, which really helps it to stand out from the multitude of other giant monster movies. It doesn't bend of break any of the genre's rules because there aren't any to be bent or broken. The movie is instead helping to establish them as it goes.
I was thoroughly impressed with Honda's direction because of how well he builds and sustains the movie's mood and atmosphere. He isn't making some summer blockbuster, something we'd expect out of Roland Emmerich or Michael Bay. He's not making some campy, corny monster movie. Instead, he is more intent on making absolutely sure we know that Godzilla is to be feared. This couldn't be more evident than in an especially chilling moment where we see shell-shocked survivors weeping as Godzilla marches through the fiery rubble that was once Tokyo as if he were a king surveying his domain, holding dominion over all he sees. He's a destroyer, a horrifying force of nature that seeks only to crush everything in its path. That is the movie Ishirō Honda wanted to make, and he was more than successful.
And looking back at the movie so many decades after its release, the effects do indeed look dated and at times a little hokey. But much like King Kong and its stop-motion ape before it, there's something to Godzilla that makes them effective. You never question it, but sit back and watch with amazement. I would credit a lot of this with how Honda crafts the movie, using the cinematography, editing, and Akira Ifukube's now iconic music to make something that's greater than the sum of its parts.
The movie's script also surprised me. Written by Honda and Takeo Murata, the story does feature some of the same tropes that would come to be seen in future monster movies. But unlike many of those others, Honda and Murata handle them well. For starters, the characters are all written smartly. There's a shock and a horror that surrounds them, and each one is affected by it in a believable way. A lot of movies within the genre just don't care about the characters yet still try cramming down our throats anyway. Writers just keep trotting out the same clichéd crap time after time because they think audiences won't care either. Just as long as the monster occasionally wrecks stuff, who gives a damn about the characters?
But Honda and Murata make us care. The characters don't get caught up in their own pointless drama or put themselves in potentially harmful situations just to set up action sequences. Instead, the characters are intelligent and have a believability that is refreshing to see. Even the movie's love triangle is treated with a certain amount of class, as all three parties realize the gravity of the situation in front of them and all but say they've got bigger fish to fry than their own problems. This subplot is handled delicately enough that the characters all stay reasonable and unlike a lot of monster movies, the audience never wants Godzilla to squash them as soon as possible.
Secondly, Honda and Murata find a way to equally balance Godzilla and the human characters. I've seen more than a few instances where they spend so much time focusing on uninteresting people and petty squabbles with one another when you'd think they'd be more worried about the monster. But Godzilla rightfully remains the focus of the movie, while never sacrificing the characters either. We don't see a bunch of boring nitwits trying to deal with their love lives or a platoon of meathead soldiers who squabble amongst themselves too much. Instead we're given characters who have their own lives, their own ordeals, only to have everything shaken up by the arrival of Hell itself. Considering the movie's allegorical nature, it makes a lot of sense to tackle the idea this way. And you know what? It worked. It really worked.
But I won't lie and say everything about the movie is top shelf. In truth, some of the acting is a little on the hit-or-miss side. Nobody's awful or brings the movie down, but like a lot of movies, some actors are just outshined by others. Momoko Kōchi isn't particularly memorable, while Akira Takarada is solid yet at the same time just kinda there too, if that makes any sense. Meanwhile, Takashi Shimura (an actor known for his frequent collaborations with legendary filmmaker Akira Kurosawa and fresh off a starring role in Kurosawa's classic Seven Samurai a few months prior to Godzilla's release) brings a level of gravitas to his role as a paleontologist that wants not to kill, but to study Godzilla.
But they're all topped by Akihiko Hirata's strong, resonating performance. The character has a massive weight on his shoulders, and Hirata makes it believable. The way he approaches the role makes him fascinating to watch. He plays it with a stoicism that belies an inner struggle and turmoil. You can tell he's scared to death but tries to stay cool and keep it together. It's an impressive bit of acting that I really, really liked.
Of the thirty movies Godzilla has starred in over the past six decades, I doubt many of them could hold a candle to the sheer power of the original. It gives us a Godzilla that is a natural disaster on two legs, an amphibious nightmare as devastating as the nuclear weapons his creators intended for him to represent. No one could have possibly foreseen the impact that Godzilla would have on monster movies and pop culture in general, but regardless, he got off to a truly amazing start. Happy anniversary, big guy, and here's to another sixty years.
Final Rating: ****
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