Godzilla has been the King of Monsters since 1954. He’s battled King Kong, battled King Kong again, befriended King Kong, been a vessel for a critique of the Japanese government’s use of kamikaze attacks and is perhaps the most recognizable monster of all time outside of the classic Universal Monsters. What began as a monster movie metaphor for the devastation of the nuclear bomb and its subsequent testing on Japan has sprawled into a franchise, adding other Japanese creatures like Mothra and King Ghidorah to create one of the most massive monster franchises of all time. But Godzilla, like all larger-than-life monsters, had his humble beginnings in a movie that functions more as a character-driven drama than the monster extravaganzas the franchise became.
Ishirō Honda’s “Godzilla” (1954), originally titled “Gojira,” actually features Godzilla himself very little. The focus of the movie is on the characters and the decisions they must make. As Godzilla begins his attacks, first on ships out on the water, then on Odo Island and finally on Tokyo itself, the scientific and political communities must decide upon a course of action.
Some want to kill Godzilla. Others, like Dr. Kyohei Yamane (Takashi Shimura), abhor this idea and want to study the monster to learn of its resistance to the H-Bomb and apparent invulnerability. As Godzilla continues on, these debates persist, leaving the people of the island to fend for themselves against an invulnerable monster. In this respect, “Godzilla” serves as a critique of both the Japanese government and the H-Bomb, showing the audience firsthand the damage indecision combined with danger can cause.
For all the newer movies would have you believe, the original vision of Godzilla was never anything but terrifying. Takashi Yamazaki’s “Godzilla Minus One” (2023) brought the franchise back to its roots, with a character-driven study on war, but movies like “Godzilla vs. Kong” (2021) took away from the message of the original movie by giving audiences the impression that Godzilla was cool. Honda’s Godzilla is a monster of old, woken by unimaginable horror to wreak even more.
In the film’s most famous moment, Godzilla destroys Tokyo, leaving it in flames. That is the shot that everyone remembers. What not everyone remembers is the scene of a mother and daughter huddled next to the body of the girl’s father, trapped in a city wreathed in flames, as the mother promises her daughter that she’ll see her father soon. In all I heard about Godzilla, I never knew about the man reporting his own death on the radio, watching as Godzilla comes towards him on the radio tower, broadcasting for the whole island to hear. Godzilla has a cool design, but the reality of him is truly horrifying — and reflects a deeply awful part of history.
“Godzilla,” while giving us a deeply recognizable monster, also gave us one of the most recognizable Cold War metaphors in cinematic history. Godzilla was woken by H-Bomb testing and is radioactive as a result. The disaster meetings shown throughout the film are reminiscent of those set up in Japan during and after World War II. At one point in the film, Emiko Yamane (Momoko Kôchi), expresses something akin to exasperation at the idea of having to evacuate because of Godzilla, saying that she barely escaped Nagasaki. The fear and exhaustion shown by the characters in Godzilla is clearly meant to reflect the state of Japan in 1954, which Honda knew very well. Indeed, much of what drives the movie is both the reactions of people to Godzilla and the ways in which they live their lives.
While Godzilla continues through the island, Hideto Ogata (Akira Takarada) and Emiko must decide on the right time to tell her fiancé, Dr. Daisuke Serizawa (Akihiko Hirata), that they have fallen in love and intend to get married. While they reckon with this decision, Emiko’s father Dr. Yamane tries to prevent Godzilla from being killed, as he believes that he is the last of his species and should be studied for his invulnerability.
Meanwhile, Dr. Serizawa has developed what could potentially be a weapon of mass destruction that could also kill Godzilla and make the people of Japan safe. While he grapples with the idea of having created something that could have the same destructive power as the H-Bomb, young Shinkichi Yamada (Toyoaki Suzuki) begins living with Hideto and Emiko, as his home was destroyed by Godzilla.
It’s these plots that make “Godzilla.” “Godzilla” isn’t about the monster — it’s about the humanity of it all.
It’s the people that make a movie. Whether it’s “Fargo” or “Back to the Future,” a good story is about the people in it, not the events that take place. This is why “Godzilla” works so well. It understands that it is not about Godzilla, but the people of Japan and their experience of him. It may sound crazy to say that “Godzilla” isn’t about Godzilla, but it really isn’t. He has very little screen time. And what screen time he does have is still more about the people involved than anything.
Godzilla, as a monster, is more metaphor than actual character, and Ishirō Honda understood that and directed it accordingly. Godzilla is there to highlight humanity — humanity is not there to highlight his monstrosity. Emiko, Hideto, Shinkichi, Dr. Yamane and Dr. Serizawa are not just people who are living in fear of Godzilla — they are people with their own lives, desires and secrets. They are the movie, not him.
Godzilla may be the King of Monsters, but some more recent iterations have lost the plot a little when it comes to what else he is meant to be. A Godzilla movie should not be about Godzilla, but what Godzilla represents. He is the H-Bomb, he is corrupt military practices, he is war, he is the King of Monsters. But more than anything, he is simply Godzilla.
“Godzilla” (1954) will screen at the Fargo Theatre on November 4 at 7 p.m. as part of the Centennial Film Series. Tickets are $7 and will be available at the door.
