50 Years Ago, Godzilla's Reign Of Terror Ended With A Bang

It was the end of an era for the King of the Monsters. The late ‘60s and ‘70s had not been kind to Godzilla’s box office potential, due to both the proliferation of competing sci-fi series on television and franchise fatigue. The films had become undeniably sillier, with its leading kaiju evolving from a tragic atomic metaphor to a fire-breathing heavyweight champion. Many of the integral figures that were involved in the beginning were gone — director Ishiro Honda hadn’t helmed any of the ‘70s efforts, suit actor Haruo Nakajima had been laid off, and Eiji Tsuburaya, special effects wizard, had passed away. Terror of MechaGodzilla was not exactly set up for success. But it found a way to roar — and bring a franchise back to life, or at least give this era a fitting finish.

With the return of Honda, and the help of a particularly inspired script and themes that recalled the most potent years of the series, Terror of MechaGodzilla provided a spectacular end to the first run of films. It accorded Godzilla the closure he deserved… at least for a little while.

Terror of MechaGodzilla’s screenplay was written by Yukiko Takayama, not an established Toho Studios regular but rather a young writer that had entered a contest. It went through rounds of revisions — Takayama’s original idea included a pair of monsters that eventually combined into one. Eventually, the new drafts did merge them in a sense and when the script was completed, the new, single creature was named Titanosaurus. Teamed up with MechaGodzilla, making a comeback with its alien creators after their defeat in the previous film, they menace Japan until Godzilla rises up to stop them.

Honda’s early films had been filled with not just allegory, but a curious wonder for the kaiju onscreen. It had been lost in recent films, turning many into giant action figures, but we find that again with Titanosaurus, who evokes some of the lonely sea monster qualities that Godzilla once had. MechaGodzilla, on the other hand, is less of a goofy robot warrior here and framed with more appropriate metallic menace. It’s effectively a Godzilla-shaped version of the Oxygen Destroyer weapon that took down Godzilla in the first film — a soulless doomsday device. Honda finds it to be most effective in its stillness, an unchanging grin amidst hellfire.

But it's in the human characters that Honda and Takayama bring heart to this movie. The most interesting duo is not the hero and his love interest, but rather a father, Shinzo Mafune, and his daughter Katsura. The father, expelled from his industry due to his supposed “crackpot” science theories, discovered Titanosaurus. His daughter, rebuilt into a cyborg after a lab accident, can communicate with Titanosaurus and is later altered to control MechaGodzilla, too. Honda obviously has empathy for both of them. Shinzo Mafune (being played by Akihiko Hirata, who was the tragic Dr. Serizawa in Godzilla) is more pitiful than megalomaniacal at times. Meanwhile Katsura ends the film (spoiler) by sacrificing herself and reclaiming her humanity from both the aliens and her misguided father.

Honda’s direction perfectly balances a foreboding atmosphere with the loonier elements. MechaGodzilla and Titanosaurus’ dual attack on the city is very well-staged, but when Godzilla shows up to fight them, it mostly turns into a big pro wrestling match. Composer Akira Ifukube, also returning to the series for the first time since the late ‘60s, delivers what might be his moodiest Godzilla score since the original.

It’s not all grandiosity though. The final scene and final goodbye from Godzilla is undercut when a promotional Godzilla suit, bearing a big, toothy smile and a dim expression, is used instead of the regular one. It’s jarring to say the least.

Furthermore, the international rollout of Terror of MechaGodzilla was more confusing than anything. In the U.K., it was released as Monsters From An Unknown Planet. Meanwhile, in America, the theatrical cut was retitled Terror of Godzilla, while the television cut, bearing some additions that were meant to get kids up to speed on the whole “Godzilla” thing, was given the appropriate Terror of MechaGodzilla branding. By the time Godzilla came back in 1984, the entire series would be pseudo-rebooted and every film but the first one was wiped from its lore. You can’t help but wonder if poor marketing was to blame at least a bit on the last Godzilla film of the previous era.

Honda would never direct a feature film again. Instead, he’d spend his later years working with Akira Kurosawa, his longtime friend and a man who became known worldwide for movies like Seven Samurai and Rashomon. The acclaim that came to Kurosawa was never granted to Honda — in the minds of many, the former made “important films” while the latter concocted a near endless stream of “monster movies.” But as Terror of MechaGodzilla showed us 50 years ago, the Godzilla films could be not only exciting, but imbued with passion and a remarkable sense of symbolism. Honda cared deeply about the worlds he invented, whether they were getting stomped on or not.