Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla

Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla (2002)
Toho Studios
Director: Tezuka Masaaki, Kikuchi Yūichi (special effects)
Also known as: On the posters it’s Godzilla X Mechagodzilla, with the “X” pronounced “tai” like the 1974 film’s title. Some use the acronym GXM for convenience. I don’t think anyone’s seriously interested in calling this one “Godzilla vs Mechagodzilla III”.


Godzilla, Mothra and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack (GMK, 2001) was the most successful of the first three Millennium series Godzilla movies by quite a margin, taking well over twice its budget in domestic ticket sales and enjoying widespread critical acclaim. Director Kaneko Shūsuke had done it again, revitalising a beloved but flagging daikaiju franchise with modern sensibilities, a large dose of mysticism and a dash of horror.

For reasons, executive producer Tomiyama Shōgo decided not to ask Kaneko to make another Godzilla movie, but instead brought back Tezuka Masaaki, the director of Godzilla vs Megaguirus (2000), objectively the least successful of the three movies. Perhaps he felt Tezuka’s vision – less horror, more heroic action – was a better fit for Toho’s or his own view of what a Godzilla movie should be. (It’s worth noting that Toho released several of the Millennium series Godzilla movies on double bills with children’s animated films about Hamtaro, an anthropomorphised hamster...) Tomiyama was so confident in his choice that he backed Tezuka to direct multiple films – having abandoned their plan for a trilogy based on Godzilla 2000: Millennium (1999), Toho would absolutely, definitely follow through on a new trilogy featuring the fan favourite character Mechagodzilla. Given the strong military focus of Godzilla vs Megaguirus, Mechagodzilla and Tezuka must have looked like a match made in heaven. The gamble paid off, for this first movie at least.

The first thing to say about Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla is that it’s almost a note-for-note reprise of Godzilla vs Megaguirus. A female officer of the JSDF’s anti-Godzilla force holds a personal grudge against Godzilla because of her commanding officer’s death in a disastrous operation a few years earlier. There’s a suggestion of romance between her and a frankly obnoxious scientist who’s been key in developing a physics-defying superweapon to fight Godzilla. There’s also a precocious child with ties to the opposing kaiju that she confides in. Unsurprisingly, as well as sharing a director, this movie was scripted by one of the two writers behind Megaguirus.

I think it all gels better here than in Megaguirus, though. The JXSDF feels like a more satisfying tribute to the Heisei series’ G-Force than the G-Graspers in Megaguirus, which felt a bit too much like a dozen people operating out of a downtown office. As the overly forward scientist, Yuhara is awkward and unfiltered rather than offensive in the way Kudō was, while Yashiro has more personal motivation than merely having lost a colleague to Godzilla, which Tsujimori would have had in common with her entire battalion. Making the child character a relative of one of the adult leads provides a more credible reason for her to keep meeting up with Yashiro than was the case with Jun and Tsujimori. On a technical level, too, this movie outshines Megaguirus throughout. The opening scenes of the JXSDF fighting Godzilla at night in a typhoon stand out as particularly good.

If Tesuka’s back as director, then so is Ōshima Michiru as the incidental music’s composer. This time the old Ifukube march doesn’t even get a look in. The main theme from Megaguirus is reused whenever Godzilla makes an entrance and over the end credits, but there are some great new themes as well for Kiryu and the JXSDF.

At first glance, Kiryu seems to serve much the same narrative function as Mechagodzilla did in its 1993 appearance: a military solution to a natural problem, which in this case becomes as bad as the original problem. There are some important differences, though. For one thing, Kiryu is actually effective – the cost was terrible, but it got results in the end. And then there’s Kiryu’s name, which is more “authentically” Japanese than Mechagodzilla, which just makes the 1993 machine sound like a piece of imported technology and made the 1974 version more obviously an alien creation. It’s significant that Kiryu is the product of a specifically Japanese military-industrial organisation, not an international body with American involvement like the UNGCC in Godzilla vs Mechagodzilla II. This is unmistakably Japan’s dilemma: can it, should it solve its contemporary problems by rearming? The question of rearmament is very briefly mooted in this movie but swiftly glossed over. The answer, supported by the film’s conclusion, seems to be not only that the circumstances might warrant it, but that the end would justify the means.

The question of rearmament is one that Japan has faced since the end of the American occupation in the 1950s, when the US urged them to rearm and they understandably demurred. It would come to the fore again soon after this film’s release, when Japan was asked to join President George W Bush’s “coalition of the willing” in the 2003 invasion and occupation of Iraq. Japan sent ground troops, but only in their constitutional capacity as a defensive force, not as aggressors. It’s only in the last couple of years that the Japanese government has passed the changes to their constitution necessary for Japan to build and maintain an offensive capability again. This move is believed to have been prompted by the intimidatory actions of their neighbours China and North Korea.

The other interesting thing Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla does is raise the question of whether Kiryu is in any sense “alive”. Godzilla vs Mechagodzilla II had that bit of nonsense at the end about “life against artificial life”, but Kiryu contains organic components and genuinely seems to be haunted. Reclaiming and weaponising the corpse of the 1954 Godzilla has quite literally raised the spectre of that original assault on Japan. This would seem to work against the upbeat ending of Kiryu’s eventual success by suggesting that by aping our enemies, we’ll only become like them.

The only other thing I’ll say about Kiryu for now is that, by having it be Japan’s superweapon (à la 1993) and having it attack Tokyo (à la 1974), the creators of this movie are very much having their cake and eating it.

Let’s end with a bit of actor-spotting. There are some familiar guest stars playing the two Prime Ministers in this movie. Portraying the 1999 Prime Minister is Mizuno Kumi, who appeared in several Shōwa era films, perhaps most notably (for us) as the alien infiltrator Namikawa in Invasion of Astro-Monster (1965). As an aside, there has never yet been a female Prime Minister of Japan in real life. The 2003 Prime Minister, formerly the Science Minister with responsibility for the Kiryu project, is, delightfully, played by Nakao Akira. Nakao featured in Godzilla vs Mechagodzilla II and the two movies that followed it as Colonel Asō, the head of G-Force who oversaw the construction of the Heisei Mechagodzilla. It’s about time that I also mentioned Ueda Kōichi, who played a variety of officials and other characters in small but memorable roles as far back as Godzilla vs Biollante (1989). Here he plays General Dobashi, a top Defence Ministry official, a role which he’ll reprise with substantially more screen time in the next movie.

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