Killing the Kaiju
Problematic Dilution or Expected Evolution?
I’ll be honest, in preparation for Godzilla: King of the Monsters, which comes out in about a month, I will be marathoning every Godzilla movie I own while playing with the numerous action figures spread across my dresser at any given moment. It should take at least three days, but if I’m reasonable about sleep, more like five. Then I’ll go pay extra for an already overpriced ticket to see it in an IMAX theater. That being said, let me tell you why this movie is cultural hack work and you should definitely not see it.
The first Godzilla movie came out in 1954. Produced by the company Toho, it was black and white, artsy, and legitimately received as a horror film, audiences screaming in theaters as they would at a slasher flick. Of course, it goes deeper than some cheesy summer blockbuster — and this very first film certainly wasn’t the building smashing creature feature that cultural consciousness today knows as “Godzilla”. In the movie a creature of the ocean depths is awaken by the testing of a bomb, and it goes on to cause mass death and destruction to the Japanese ecosystem and society. The monster is obviously a metaphor for the atomic bomb, and the movie a response to the nuclear horror Japan faced at the hands of the U.S. during World War II. As such, the Godzilla we see here is an eldritch horror of a villain: untouchable, unreasonable.
Following the success of the 1954 film, executives did what they do best and decided to start banging out sequels in the hopes of printing money. These films were what turned Godzilla into the leader of a franchise and what turned Kaiju films into a genre all their own (the word “Kaiju” in Japanese generally referring to giant monsters or legendary creatures). Although they were made to be much campier and child oriented than the original, this was still a point of power for the Japanese, as the movie and toy sales created a booming business and helped propel the trend of a growing economy. Godzilla wasn’t the only one, but he was by far the most popular and certainly the star of his own show, as opposed to the Ultraman and Captain Maxx rogues’ gallery of Kaijus, which existed only for the aforementioned heroes to punch.
Production of Godzilla franchise films continued through a number of periods that are now grouped together into categories by years. I could at this point go on for another couple of hours about the history of the franchise and implications of the categorizations, but for now all you need to know about are the two most recent periods:
- The Millennium Period (1999–2004)
My first exposure was to Godzilla was with the Toho-produced first film in this series Godzilla 2000, but the majority of America’s first exposure came near the end. It was a 1998 abomination of a film produced by TriStar and simply titled Godzilla. It was so vehemently rejected by Godzilla fans and members of Kaiju culture, that its sequels were cancelled, it was later booted entirely from the franchise, rebranded as simply “Zilla,” and it only ever appeared again for a split second in Godzilla: Final Wars (the Avengers of Godzilla movies, produced for the the franchise’s 50th anniversary) just to be humiliatingly dominated by the “real” Godzilla in some sweet, sweet fanservice. In fact many fans, including myself, disparagingly refer to the worst iteration of our beloved character simply as “American Godzilla”, with mocking emphasis on American. So why then do we have…?
2. The Post Millennium Period (2014 — current)
Here the timeline splits. After a ten year hiatus Toho makes a comeback announcing 2014’s Shin Godzilla (Shin meaning “new”), while Legendary Pictures in the same year releases a new American film called Godzilla . It was okay I guess, though I’m telling you now its use of Bryan Cranston in the trailer was total click bait. I still prefer Shin, and so did Japan - taking a quick glance at the reviews. But here’s the thing: I can’t remember a time (though admittedly my life is short) where Godzilla was ever as mainstream in American culture as it is today, and I see plenty of people getting hyped for the upcoming movie which has turned this franchise into a Hollywood blockbuster. So I’m happy right? Well… yeah, kind of. Every now and then I get the hipster bug when I hear the excitement for the new film, and the petty part of me wants to say “where were you before?” But if the things I enjoy get more successful, then I will get more of those things, and more people to enjoy them with. At the same time, I’m a purist. I can’t help but feel a little tugging at the back of my mind that somehow, even with all the gains (in revenue, relevance, and potential) made from Godzilla’s immigration, something has been lost.
That something is a noticeable change made when the king of the monsters emerged from the depths onto U.S. shores. The first American iteration of Godzilla (the aforementioned bastard child, Zilla) was painted in a highly sympathetic light. It was mostly peaceful, only attacking when prompted, running away from the military, even having eggs (giving it a protective mother vibe). In the second attempt, Legendary Pictures’ 2014 film, he appears only to fight off creatures even more destructive than he, essentially becoming an antihero. The media in the film literally refers to him as a “savior”. I can only imagine the upcoming films in this American trilogy plan to continue this trend: that of Godzilla as a terrible and destructive, but necessary weapon, and a last resort that ultimately prevents more suffering than he brings. Sound familiar? He’s the atomic bomb, but now from the point of view of the ones who dropped it.
So the shape this story begins to bring on is one of the Americans cannibalizing a Japanese symbol for the destructive force of American weapons, and using it as their own positive symbol of power, painting him in an increasingly positive light. But Toho had to have made the concious decision to let them have the rights, and they are still the distributors of the American movies in Japan, so they’re still benefiting, right? Japanese people are still being paid and employed for use of their culture? Well… yes and no. Before Godzilla (2014) was picked up by Legendary Pictures (an American production company) to be made into a high budget feature film, it was being directed as a short film by Yoshimitsu Banno, one of the original directors and writers during Godzilla’s Shōwa period (The earliest of those categories I mentioned earlier, this one taking place from 1954 to 1975). Banno was replaced with a white, English director, and shortly died after. The upcoming sequel Godzilla: King of the Monsters is being directed by a white American. The last planned movie in the trilogy, Godzilla vs. King Kong, also is currently being directed by a white American. All casts are majority white.
And look, I get that sometimes things have to be adapted to audience tastes for business reasons, but haven’t we made some decent strides in Asian representation in Hollywood recently?. What complicates things further is while the American Godzilla has gone Hollywood with ballooning budgets and bigger theaters (thus more eyes), there is no planned live action sequel to the Japanese Shin Godzilla, and they have instead struck a deal with Netflix for two animated features. Obviously streaming services are nothing to scoff at anymore, but it’s particularly easy for animated films to lose eyes (often being dismissed as juvenile), and for Netflix originals to get swamped by the sheer mass of titles available. What I’m getting at, and this is pure speculation on my part, is I worry that the American Godzilla, will become the Godzilla, and the spirit and meaning of the original will be lost.
At this point one might counter that the Japanese films are still an important part of Godzilla’s history, and will remain in posterity for those who are interested in his origins. But when I first entered the fandom, the only version of the original 1954 film that was widely available in the states was the one released for a 1954 American audience. It was heavily edited down to remove the politics and some of the less ‘murica friendly themes. They also added a white lead. They actually re-shot some of the scenes using doubles of the original Japanese actors so they could put a white actor in the middle and call him the protagonist… and oh lord, the dubbing.
Perhaps this last issue isn’t as much of a problem as it once was now that we have the internet (and better translation abilities). Perhaps I need to get with the times and understand that legends grow and evolve. And to be fair, the new movies are still dope, because it’s always fun to watch little things get smashed by big things. The takeaway is that I’m not here to bash something I actually still love and enjoy, or to kill something others love and enjoy by just hunting for something to be overly PC about because I’m an eDuCAted COasTaL LiBruL. But I do think it is possible, and even necessary to point out flaws in the things you enjoy, if not to problematize it, then to at least start a discussion. Just something to think about.
