Godzilla vs King Ghidorah

Godzilla vs King Ghidorah (1991)
Toho Studios
Director: Ōmori Kazuki, Kawakita Kōichi (special effects)


Godzilla vs Biollante (1989) had done well enough at the box office to justify the continuation of what was becoming a new series of Godzilla films, but it hadn’t built on the success of The Return of Godzilla (1984). In order to boost the series’ popularity, rather than create more original daikaiju like Biollante, the filmmakers decided to bring back some of the best-known old monsters but with a twist for the new audience. The first of these returning foes was perennial favourite King Ghidorah. In all his previous appearances in the 60s and 70s, Ghidorah had been the pawn of alien invaders. The Heisei series hadn’t yet gone so far as to introduce aliens, and rather than take that step the writers chose instead to bring Ghidorah in through the far more reasonable narrative device of time travel.

This is the first and (to date) the only Godzilla movie to involve time travel. Warning: contains non-linearity!

The first thing I think I ought to do here is try to make sense of the time travel plot. This will be a bit spoilery, but also potentially dull for anyone who can watch this movie, shrug and not care how much sense it makes. So if it matters to you, click the button below, but if not, please just read on.

This is one of those Godzilla movies that sets off some people’s Nationalism Alarms. After all, it does moot the possibility of Japanese global domination in the future, and the villains want to prevent that, so maybe – depending on exactly how you interpret the temporal convolutions of the plot (or, dare I say it, on how closely you’re paying attention) – the film is saying that it’s a good thing? But there’s no suggestion of a resurgent Japanese military empire. Rather, what’s hinted at is a world in which Japan dominates the world economically, and specifically Japanese business interests. It’s not so much a nationalist dream, more the kind of dystopia beloved of cyberpunk novelists, in which capitalism has gone into overdrive and nations as we once knew them have given way to the rule of transnational corporations. It’s just phrased rather awkwardly.

The key figure here isn’t any of the time travellers, but Shindō Yasuaki. A major in the Imperial Japanese Army in 1944 and the chairman of the Teiyo Group in 1992 – which we’re told is the most powerful organisation in the world in 2204 – he thus bridges Japan’s militaristic past and its objectionable potential future. He’s practically a James Bond villain already – he has his own nuclear submarine, for goodness’ sake. (And for bonus points, he’s played by Tsuchiya Yoshio, the Controller of Planet X in Invasion of Astro-Monster (1965).) He thinks he’s special enough to stare Godzilla in the face and get away with it during the kaiju’s rampage through Tokyo. Godzilla, who is presented as both an existential threat to Japan and, according to Shindō’s old comrade Ikehata, potentially its saviour, doesn’t think nearly so highly of Shindō. I think we can take that as a rejection of the future Shindō represents.

If we’re looking for a message in Godzilla vs King Ghidorah, it might be this: that wanting to change Japan's past, and specifically the bits between 1939 and 1954, won't solve today's problems. The Prime Minister jumps at the chance to thwart Godzilla, who once served as a reminder of how America subdued Japan during the war, but that hope is frustrated. Godzilla is still there – he’s always there. If it hadn’t been one thing, the film seems to say, it would have been another thing and we’d be in the same fix today. Japan’s future appears to be in flux, but its past is something the characters just have to come to terms with.

The issue of revisiting Japan's past would have been a topical one in 1991. Akihito, latterly referred to as the Emperor Heisei, had only recently acceded to the throne. One of his earliest public acts, during a state visit by Chinese Premier Li Peng in April 1989, was to express his remorse for the wrongs that Japan had previously committed against China. This was the first of many conciliatory statements from Akihito towards Japan's neighbour nations. It may look to us like a half-hearted almost-apology, but two things make it remarkable. Firstly, the revised Constitution of Japan drawn up under the post-war American occupation limits the Emperor's position to that of a purely ceremonial figurehead. Even commenting publicly on political matters in this way is more than many people would have expected of him. Secondly, some of those wrongs, notably including the 1937 invasion of China and the Second Sino-Japanese War, had occurred during the reign of Akihito's own father Hirohito, the Emperor Shōwa. Akihito's statement of remorse came just two months after Hirohito’s state funeral.

At a less introspective level, the theme of changing history in Godzilla vs King Ghidorah is appropriate given the fluid nature of the political landscape at that time. 1990 had seen the first secessions of former member states of the Soviet Union, with many more to follow in 1991, as well as the treaties that formalised the reunification of Germany. The USSR would be officially dissolved less than two weeks after the cinematic debut of this movie. In the basin of the Persian Gulf, Iraq invaded Kuwait in late 1990. The USA, which might have been hoping for an era of peace after “winning” the Cold War, ended up leading a military campaign against Iraq in early 1991 to shore up the political stability of the region, and incidentally protect its oil import interests. The volatility of Japan's own future in Godzilla vs King Ghidorah – raised high or brought low by forces beyond the understanding of the contemporary characters – may reflect anxiety over this real-world political turmoil.

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