The GODZILLA Canon: 1954 to 2016

At the beginning of quarantine, I made a decision to watch all of the Godzilla films. It would be no easy task with a total of thirty-two Japanese entries and four US entries (yes, I count 1998 Godzilla, as it was made canon in 2001 by Toho). It was also a perfect storm of potential with the release of Criterion’s Godzilla Collection, which included all the Showa Era (1954-1975) films, many of which were hard to find in the US without selling a kidney. After rewatching all of the movies in chronological order, I came to a realization: Godzilla always has been a metaphor for nuclear power, even during its silliest moments.

At this point, the 1954 Godzilla film is well known as a metaphor for nuclear power, but for those that might not know the whole story, here it is. Two significant events lead to the creation and understanding of Godzilla. First was the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, and second the Lucky Dragon No. 5 Incident of 1954. For those that might not know, Hiroshima and Nagasaki are the names of the two towns where the atomic bomb’s first weaponized uses occurred. Many historians debate whether it brought less bloodshed to the island of Japan compared to an actual invasion, but no one argues how horrendous of an act it was. It was an act that burned itself into Japan both metaphorically and literally. The Lucky Dragon No. 5 Incident occurred on March 1, 1954, when the Daigo Fukuryū Maru (Lucky Dragon 5) was fishing outside the Marshall Islands. The US government had declared a safe zone around the island as they were set to test a hydrogen bomb at Castle Bravo on the Bikini Atoll, part of the Marshall Island chain. The Lucky Dragon was outside this safe area when the bomb went off, but unknown to everyone involved, the explosion was more significant than expected. The weather had blown the fall out off course and onto the unexpecting fishing boat that believed the falling nuclear fall out to be snow. By the time the Lucky Dragon docked, the crew was already in the throes of radiation poisoning. This event only helped to stoke the fears of atomic weapons established previously with the bombings at the end of World War II.

Taking this fear and wanting to make a film in protest of atomic weaponry, producer Tomoyuki Tanaka, then working for Toho Studios, started work on a new film. He brought on director Ishiro Honda and special effects master Eiji Tsubaraya. In this new film, they wanted a monster to serve as an allegory for the danger of nuclear weapons. Honda said, “If Godzilla had been a dinosaur or some other animal, he would have been killed by just one cannonball. But if he were equal to an atomic bomb, we would not know what to do. So, I took the characteristics of an atomic bomb and applied them to Godzilla.” The plot involves a fishing boat that is sunk in the Pacific Ocean under mysterious circumstances. The fishing company loses more ships trying to investigate as Japanese reporters go out to cover the story. Godzilla emerges from the ocean bringing destruction and leaving nuclear footprints with him everywhere he goes. Along with his nuclear arsenal, he uses his atomic breath to set fire to buildings and melt massive radio towers. A scientist named Dr. Serizawa develops a weapon in secret that when used can destroy anything in its blast radius, boiling the water and turning fish into mere skeletons. He is convinced to use it on Godzilla, the Oxygen Destroyer, humanity’s last hope.

The messaging behind Gojira is clear and abundantly stated through its runtime. If unchecked, humanity will surely destroy itself with its interests in playing with increasingly more dangerous weaponry. Godzilla represents man’s fear of atomic power and the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Shown by his rampaging through Japan, leaving vast swaths of the town destroyed, people are left with burns and radiation poisoning, and the military can do nothing to stop it. The Oxygen Destroyer Serizawa’s invention represents the hydrogen bomb. With its use taking place in the ocean and being a more powerful force than the atomic bomb, Godzilla, knowing the sheer power of his creation and man’s propensity for destruction. Dr. Serizawa agrees to use the Oxygen Destroyer if the military is not given access to analyze his design.

After the first entry of Godzilla, the films seem to degrade in their serious tone. The movies are no longer about the dangers of nuclear weapons, but instead, they follow a loose continuity of another Godzilla appearing after the first died. The threat is no longer this new Godzilla but a series of monsters that appear terrestrially and extraterrestrially and attack humanity, forcing Godzilla to become a reluctant protector. Then a significant shift occurs in 1967 with the release of Son of Godzilla. Godzilla no longer attacks humanity or accidentally protects them but instead takes on the role of defender and father of the awful baby Minilla; seriously, he’s the worst. Suppose we track the metaphor for Godzilla being symbolic of atomic fear and his aggressor role in the previous films, where Mothra or King Kong were the heroes. Why would Godzilla shift to being a friendly being? Simple, in 1966, Japan was investing in nuclear power and no longer wanted the populace to fear nuclear energy. So why not take the symbol of atomic fear and turn him friendly.

In 1966 Japan began operations of its first nuclear generator, with the country naming nuclear power as a national priority in 1973. The Godzilla films around this time not only saw Godzilla become friends of the people, but the messaging started to focus on environmental responsibility. In the Son of Godzilla film, the song that plays over the credits includes a line that says, “(Monsters) pulverize everything, but megaton smog and exhaust are worse! They are the real monsters!” That’s not a very subtle message about pollution, and even less subtle is when Godzilla fights Hedorah the Smog Monster in 1971’s Godzilla vs. Hedorah. Here’s where everything comes together. With the rise of nuclear energy, an energy source that Japan has a traumatic history with, the evils of fossil fuel pollution started to become more apparent. This messaging peaks with Godzilla vs. Hedorah, where Godzilla fights the fossil fuel industry and wins. Nuclear power is superior to fossil fuels, and it’s so much safer. 

After this peak in 1971, the remainder of the Showa Era films continued to push the anti-fossil fuel messaging. A giant beetle-like Kaiju named Megalon comes out of the ocean to defend the Mu Empire from pollution the humans pump into the water in 1973’s Godzilla vs. Megalon. Aliens build a fake Godzilla to attack the humans, tricking them into thinking he’s turned evil again. Luckily some eco-warriors help uncover the plot and save Godzilla in Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla, the last film of this era. Godzilla is not seen again until 1984 with Return of Godzilla, where they reboot the continuity with only the original 1954 film staying canon. Return of Godzilla kicks off the Heisei era of films that play more off of technophobia and GMOs with the likes of Biollante and Megaggurius. The Millennium era follows where we see Godzilla acting as a sort of anti-hero. It’s not until 2016, when Godzilla returns to its roots with Hideaki Anno’s Shin Godzilla, where Godzilla became a metaphor for the modern era and its most daunting threat, bureaucracy.

For the longest time, I looked down on many of the Godzilla films from the mid-Showa Era. After realizing the message they were trying to convey and learning to drop my preconceived notions, I started having fun with them again, just like when I was a child. Although I still hate Minilla.