2015/05/16

Deathiversary Week 2015: Day 5

I guess I got a real good jump on yesterday because I was up for like 4 hours after "The Deadly Asteroid" watching spooks and conspiracy videos (oh man, what if the Nazis built a secret base on the Moon!?). I felt really shitty the whole time, though, and end result of not only the hard liquor but also some bad spaghetti I ate... some of. I woke up today early because I got booped on skype, then took a nap because fuck that, took a shower, and finally went out to get a giant fuck off lasaga. And it's a good thing too, because otherwise I'd have to eat my purse, and a purse is not food.

So I only got started at about 17:30, but this is alright because I'm gonna be watching some awesome things today, and my itinerary includes staying up all night drinking and watching Godzilla movies, probably until the sun comes up, so it wouldn't make much sense to start today early anwyas.

So in addition to the three 80's movies, I'm also going to watch the two episodes of Mystery Science Theater 3000 which featured Godzilla movies, both from the second season in 1991. Joel's hosting, so these are good ones. This will serve as a nice buffer area after watching Biollante again, giving me time to cool down and just get wasted and forget about all those big ideas and powerful images that makes the 80's movies so incredible. In the end, this day, the 13th, is the true focal point of the week, just as it was exactly one year ago. This is the climax, and from here on out we'll be entering the third act, falling action and an eventual resolution of some kind. But if you only read one of these posts from this year - or any year - Day 5 is the one that's important.

2015/05/14

Deathiversary Week 2015: Day 4

Last night I broke out the hard stuff and became officially drunk for the first time this week. The result of that was me cutting the bullshit and small talk and getting right down to the important stuff, which is what alcohol is great at bringing out in people. For a number of reasons I wanted to try and avoid that as much as possible this year, namely that I'm trying to keep these posts short and sweet to avoid focusing too much on them so I have more time to, you know, watch the movies themselves, and of course my theme of looking forward as much as back, which, if you've been reading along, you've noticed by now is a thing I have to constantly remind myself of, as I didn't get my own memo. The problem is that things just aren't going to get any better, and the whole theme is just a facade, so I have a hard time trying to maintain it. Still, though, in the immediate future there's more to look forward to for Godzilla, at least for now, so there is a reason to keep trying.

I've also only just now realized that I only used maybe a 10th of all the screenshots I took for each movie last year, I've got thousands of screenshots from last year, and there's no reason I need to be repeating them. So this means I ended up pointlessly repeating screenshots for 8 movies I've covered in the past two days. Wamp wamp. Anwyas, today I'm watching all 26 episodes of the Godzilla cartoon that ran for two seasons from 1978-1979, which, at 20-something minutes a piece equals a little more than the running time of six feature length films, which is the pace I've been maintaining for the past few days. It is also a pace I'm breaking from here on out, with five features planned for the 13th and 14th. I don't really know how much I should get through on the 15th, as that depends on what all I'll do for the 16th, so it could be anywhere from 3-5, or maybe even all 6 millennium films, but I doubt that.

I'll probably do more hard drinking today as the cartoon wears on, and of course there'll be plenty tomorrow, that's Biollante day. I don't, however, expect that to release a bunch of unbridled rage like it did yesterday, since there's really nothing about this show that could set me off. AND tomorrow I planned a buffer after Biollante, which is what I was talking about when I mentioned there would be 10 movies over the next two days, as there's only 7 movies from the 80's and 90's, and Godzilla 1985 which I'm pretty sure I previously mentioned only brings that up to 8. So what will those other two be? That's a secret. Tee hee. ;o

2015/05/13

Deathiversary Week 2015: Day 3

Yikes! Well, things have actually have sped up some with this whole process, but oh man Megalon already destroyed dam! Yeah, it seems like at least 90 minutes (though not all the same movie) are gonna get only half paid attention to with the way things are going now, BUT I feel like the Day 2 post is pretty cool, got some interesting little things in there, which is basically now my main concern. Why would anyone read this? Last year my journal of events was written with the expectation that they were the last words I'd ever write, but this year my expectation is that things are going to get way better (for Godzilla at least), so without all the weight to what I'm talking about, my biggest concern is... is this stuff even worth saying?

So, for Day 2 at least, I think it was. Day 1 verged into 2014 territory slightly but I think I've got a grip now on what it is I'm doing with these posts this year, and my focus is trying to stick to "things that I wouldn't really have a reason to mention on The Godzilla Cycle proper but should probably bring up at some point."

Day 3 continues with a really, really fucking cool movie, then a really, really fucking goofy one, followed by something I've been looking forward to since last year, and after some Mechagodzilla madness we'll be taking a trip back to one of the more memorable experiences of last year's Deathiversary week (not technically a Deathiversary but you know what I mean), the distilled, almost-doesn't-feel-real late 70's madness that is Cozzilla. So today should be pretty exciting, and tomorrow... the cartoon! Hooray! ^o^


2015/05/12

Deathiversary Week 2015: Day 2

So last time my post was more or less in line with the sort of thing I did last year. Lots of personal stuff, a lot of kicking around kind of big, lofty ideas around, and generally just being big about the whole occasion. Now, last year that makes a lot of sense since I, you know, didn't think I was going to to around much longer. This year, as I've said, is different, and I've really just been kinda watching these movies and drinking, trying to have a good time and keeping grounded. I don't really want to take too much of my time writing these posts because it's detracting from the part where I'm, you know, watching the actual movies.

So for this day I'm gonna try and drastically trim it to maybe one or two paragraphs per movie, plus the drinking game rules, which I should mention I am not committing to memory although I have written them up for all the way out to 1977 which should last me until tomorrow. I do remember the core ones, and I at least think I remember all the stuff I came up with, and additionally I'm sort of coming up with new stuff on the fly since I need more excuses and I'm drinking lighter stuff today. I've jotted these down as notes and will incorporate them into the post later.

But yeah, I think except for the Biollante day and the last day, I kinda wanna keep this light and just focus on one or two ideas that came up during the movie. Whether I'll be able to keep that light is a whole other thing, but because of time restrictions and my dwindling desire to bother writing anything at all, I think I can stick to it. For example; I just finished watching Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster and I really don't have any interest in writing this post yet, I'm only writing this intro now because of the limited time issue. But, anwyas, here's some more things:

2015/05/11

Deathiversary Week 2015: Day 1

A year ago today I sat down to catch up with an old friend. Both of us were on our death beds, with Godzilla facing commercial compromise and cultural irrelevancy, and with having a whole other load of problems to deal with, and without Godzilla around I didn't think I could keep it up anymore. My life has never been without him, and, simply put, I don't know how to live in a world without Godzilla, and more importantly I didn't ever want to.

I would like to say that things are different now, that my survival is an obvious sign of my personal recovery, and that Godzilla in Hell and Higuchi's latest revival attempt are all signs that Godzilla's not going down without a fight, and there's still some hope left. These are the things I would like to believe, even though I know they aren't true. Watching gino 2 in that theater induced a severe amount of cognitive dissonance in me, it didn't even feel real, like I dreamed the whole thing. I woke up later the next day with an enormous hangover before finished my Day 7 post, taking a long hot shower, and just... I just didn't... do anything.

I was in denial, I eventually realized, because of how surreal the whole experience was, and how alien the concept of a world and a life without Godzilla is to me. My brain refused to accept what had happened, and so I wrapped myself in a cocoon of the past, rediscovering parts of Godzilla's story that had gone untold in English with surprisingly very little effort, writing articles about immense sweeping chronological intra-continuities, and even attempting to write an encyclopedia of every Toho monster myself, which hit a snag due to my limited resources.

My review of gino 2 brought out more hate in me than I had experienced in some time. I figured out, eventually, that I was kind of starting to turn into a monster. My focus on Godzilla's past took me to reading about the world wars (and I'm including the Cold War in that, of course), and from there I became re-acquainted with the very hard learned lessons of true modernism, the foundations of the society we live in today, which have their roots in the consequences of WWII, whose story Godzilla exists to tell. I kept reading, and I kept writing, and otherwise tried to carry on as usual, but I became more and more enraged at the violation of all the principals that made us modern people that I'd see every day.

I figured, then, that I had three options: write, kill, or die. I decided that the feelings that were stirring in me were useful, and I now knew what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it, a break from the stasis of the past few years. In addition to this, killing one bigot, or Garth Edwards, would only result in me offing myself immediately after because there's nothing else really after that, and what difference will that really make? None, I thought, so it was both pointless and easily the most difficult option. And of course, with so many ideas, I didn't want to go yet, I feel like I still have things I need to do. So the choice became very clear.

But of course my changing attitude doesn't reflect changing circumstances. I'm still in the same situation I was last year, and in fact am even a little worse off. Despite having found goals, I didn't gain any extra time or resources. My hand will start blinking in two and a half years, and by then it will be far too late for me to start having a life of my own. There may still be a little hope now, but what I know that I definitely have is two and a half years. That's enough time for me to write what I want to write and get it out there. If nothing changes by time of Carousel and my "renewal," then at the very least I will have still finished something important to me. This is now what I live for, to record my thoughts about the things I care about, whether or not it matters to anyone else. It's all I have left now, but it gives me purpose and has kept me alive for a year now after Godzilla's death.

And what of Godzilla? Will he truly rise from the grave once again? Or is it for real this time? Realistically speaking, there is probably a fairly good chance that Godzilla can continue unhindered in some form under the radar, in much the same way "classic Transformers" still maintains a presence in our culture through a combination of throw-back merchandising such as comic books reviving old storylines, reissues of old toys, and convention booths catering to "older" fans. But will he ever be the same again? I can't say. Again, I want to believe everything will be fine, but in many ways I feel like the damage is already irreparable and not enough people are actively working to fix the problems. I attempted to try and spread the word about the Deathiversary traditions to various Godzilla forums, but after only the first two became filled with such an immense feeling of sadness, anger, and futility that I quickly remembered why I had this exact same ritual last year: because no one cares about Godzilla anymore, they just want to buy more products.

My theme this year will be attempting optimism. I want to try and look forward to the future, instead of dwelling on the tragedies of the past, but without forgetting why I'm doing this in the first place. This year I want to focus on not finality, but how I've survived over this past year, and how Godzilla hasn't quite given up yet, and neither should I. Consider this a prequel to Godzilla in Hell, call it Godzilla in the Dark Wood or Godzilla Crosses Acheron if you will, with Godzilla's contemplation over all the events of his life that led him here to this point, before he subsequently refuses to rest in peace and tears Hell a new asshole.

2015/05/08

GRA up, Deathiversary drawing near

The Godzilla Raids Again article is up and just as finished as the Godzilla one, leaving the bottom half about the Americanization process mostly blank for now. This is sort of ironic since, as the development on GRA was so short that it doesn't really justify a separate article, the "Volcano Monsters" link on the Development contents page redirects to an article that doesn't really mention The Volcano Monsters yet. I've been feeling weirdly sluggish and tired most of the day, so it's only now that I'm getting this page up and, consequently, I haven't started on the Anguirus article yet.

But there is other big news! Godzilla's Sad Deathnight is coming up! Woo? No, not Woo, Godzilla, who on May 16th of last year was brutally murdered by a conclave of hooded figures who, according to my own personal conspiracy theory, are actually Ermac-esque sentient amalgams of all the world's money given human form. Naturally, this isn't the sort of thing most folks would "celebrate," but the fact that it's been a whole year since this happened is... well, it's hard to describe. I guess alcohol is a time machine or something, because it really just seems like that whole year completely disappeared. Things have changed some since then, and Godzilla might have a chance at coming back after all, but given how powerful hollywood and skynet are it's probably all futile.

But I'm still here, still writing this thing, and Godzilla still matters to me even if the rest of the world has decided their souls are for sale and the only thing they're interested in is what they're told to like by the "geek blog" subversive marketing plants and social media experiments. Good fucking job, technology, you managed to give one of the most evil kinds of people the ability to essentially brainwash idiots, which, of course, make up the largest percentage of the population. Because of course they fucking do.

So I'm going to do exactly what I did last year, starting from a week before May 16th (which is the 9th) I'll watch a cluster of Godzilla movies (and some television stuff) and post a corresponding "journal" type entry either that same day or the next. What's different about this time, other than some changes to the line-up, is that since gino 2 is already out on home video and seeing it again (which I am NOT looking forward to, but I feel like I have to in order for the tradition to have any meaning) won't be an all-day thing where I go to the theater and have a bunch of drinks before the set time it comes on, then drink a lot in the theater, and after it ends going to a bar and drinking much, much more. No, instead the eighth day, the culmination of the Deathiversary "celebrations" and the Sad Deathnight itself, will be just as jam packed as the preceding week. So I'm going to push some things up into the eighth day and try to plan some other sort of festive thing to keep me from thinking too much about... anything, really. I mean, that's how I managed to keep this up for a whole year last time, so making it into a kind of event and distancing myself from what has actually happened while drinking - a lot - and coming up with some sort of morbid ceremony should work too.

My journal documenting this event will be posted here, right on the Godzilla Cycle, rather than on my old blog which doesn't have a real theme or purpose other than just being where I can type things sometimes. In addition to this, my old Deathiversary (I don't think it can be technically called that, but w/e) posts from last year on my old blog will be linked to here in a contents page linked on the navigation bar up top. I'll include some quick diagnostic info about each day, most notably a list of films and other things covered in that day, and generally my hope is to keep this a running tradition.

If Godzilla manages to come back once more, and survive all of this, if I have ANY lasting legacy, if anything I do is remembered after I'm gone, my only small sliver of immortality I wish for is that Godzilla's Deathiversary continue to be observed by all those who carry Godzilla in their hearts, no matter how few they may be. We cannot afford to forget this a third time. We, as a civilization, stand or fall by the legacy we leave behind for the future. We can either be put up on a pedestal with the ancient Mediterranean world, or we can fall into obscurity like the dark ages. Will we be remembered because of our obsession with money, fame, technology, and our sadistic dependency on using subversive advertising to bend others to our will? Or will we be remembered as the civilization that stopped the Cold War from turning into the apocalypse, that put a man on the moon, and used technology to find new forms of expression and discovery?

Are we the civilization that created Godzilla or destroyed him? If Godzilla buries me, I can't rest unless I know that this immense failure and dangerously close call is remembered and observed. We have to remember May 16th, 2014, or else it will happen again, and all we'll have left to leave future generations is go-gurt and let's plays.

Surely we can give the future a better impression of us than that.

Otherwise I will haunt the shit out of you stupid motherfuckers.

初代ゴジラ • Godzilla 1954

a.k.a.: Gojira, Shodai-Goji, Original Godzilla, First Generation Godzilla
Species: Mutant Godzillasaurus
Origin: Near Odo Island
Height: 50m
Weight: 20,000t
Powers/Abilities: "Smoky" Atomic Ray
Main G-Series Credits: 1, 2 (Stock Footage), 22 (Stock Footage), 26, 27, 28 (Stock Footage)

    Godzilla's birth parents are the fear of the bomb and the mystery and fascination with dinosaurs, two incredibly powerful forces during the 1950's of whom Godzilla is not their sole offspring. However, Godzilla's particular mix of inherited attributes are unique among his kind. While contemporaries the Rhedosaurus weren't much more than simple animals who's nuclear origins are simply an excuse for them to appear in the modern world, Godzilla is both an entirely new kind of (actual) dinosaur (perhaps the first instance of Spec Biology in monster movie history) which isn't merely a metaphor of, but a pure personification of the bomb.

As a dinosaur, Godzilla is a mish-mash of parts from various bits of horrifying bizarre popular art of the time. A carnivorous theropod like a Tyrannosaurus, but with the stance of an Iguanadon, and dorsal plates inspired by - but distinct from - a Stegosaurus. A unique silhouette that would not feel too out of place among the kind of nonsense people actually believed back then, but maintains a character of its own. As a monster, Godzilla is an unstoppable and non-negotiable force, its slow swath of all-consuming destruction spreading ever outward, Godzilla is the god of destruction, and spews a beam of thermonuclear death, driving home that he is a very particular kind of destruction. When put together, Godzilla becomes something totally transcendent of a mere dinosaur, some sort of immortal god in the semblance of a yet unknown species. Not only that, but since the bomb has transformed him so, who's to say where the bomb really ends and the dinosaur begins? This caveat lets Godzilla, as a monster first, keep all of his characteristics in tact as science marches on and we are able to make certain conclusions about how much of the original animal is in Godzilla now. And with this, he carries, in his original chimeric form, a semblance of an emblem from a time when humanity was far more ignorant and naive, an avatar of a god that mocks our stupidity through its presence alone.

While Godzilla the monster made his existence well known to mankind, his prior life as an animal is mostly a large question mark. Dr. Kyohei Yamane has one theory, but it isn't really until 1991's Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah when the matter is actually established on film. And while it may seem heretical to second guess Yamane's theory, in the late 70's and early 80's this was done multiple times. In fact, a number of U.S. sources actually ran with some of these alternate hypothesis, and even some original ones, and so depending on what context you're talking about Godzilla might still be a very much unknown quantity in the world.

In particular, Yamane's thesis, filtered through the lens of 50's sci-fi writer style bad fact checking, goes something like this: Godzilla's species is that of a Jurassic animal which was adapted to a marine lifestyle, evolving back into a sort of terrestrial one during the Cretaceous, and as it exists now is actually something of a mix between the two. It makes a fair amount of sense. An amphibious dinosaur sounds far more likely to both survive the KE event (in fact, it looks like with the evolution of birds being where it was at the time, it might have been only amphibious or coastal dinosaurs who survived) and remain undetected for so long, as the only food source for such a large, undetected animal would logically be in deep water. There are other peculiarities to this oddly specific evolutionary history which become apparent in later Godzilla films as well.

Pre-1954
Obviously none of the islanders on Odo Island knew any of this back in "the old days." As I've theorized elsewhere, Oodako's lack of a proper name may be an attempt at suggesting that it really was a giant octopus responsible for the Odo Islander's "Gojira" legend, but let's assume for now that Godzilla was somehow responsible for it. This is interesting for a couple of reasons, mainly because it sets up right away that there is absolutely no ridiculous "suspended animation" nonsense being espoused, and that if Godzilla was effected by the bomb then he has to actually be present for that to have happened. So, so refreshing compared to the utterly nauseating crap Godzilla's international contemporaries claimed. But there's also something else suggested by this, because it first means we have to accept that Godzilla (or his parents, or their parents, or what have you) was coming to the island and cleaning out their fishing grounds, but then, at some point, he stopped. Remnants of the placation ceremony survived into 1954, but they were of a purely traditional and symbolic variety, and for who knows how many years Godzilla simply lost interest in the island and its people. Why? It's really tempting to connect this to the advent of the industrial revolution and Japan's imperialistic age, and with all the over-fishing and world wars going on, Godzilla probably thought it a much wiser decision to start hunting progressively further and further away. Finally, with the Castle Bravo test, it became something he was no longer able to ignore.

We get the impression of immense age from the monster, from both the scientist and the villager, who variously claim Godzilla's origins lie in "the olden days" to as far back as the Jurassic period. But how old is the individual, really? There's really no word on it at all, but we might be able to take an educated guess with the help of a little math. Coelophysis, hundreds of which have been found, particularly in Ghost Ranch in New Mexico, are one of if not the most well known late Triassic theropod, and a close (if not synonymous) relative of Gojirasaurus. While a very distant relative, we do know that Coelophysis reached sexual maturity at around their 2nd or 3rd year and their maximum size at about 8 years. Superficially similar giant carnivorous theropods like Allosaurus and Tyrannosaurus had a maximum life span of maybe 30 years (Sue the Tyrannosaurus was 28 when she died), and reached maturity in their teens, a lot like Ian Curtis. Allosaurus is said to have reached maximum size at 15, and Tyrannosaurus' puberty lasted from age 14 to 18. But these animals both have pretty similar histories, small carnivorous hunters that increased in size as their prey did, their biology has to be pretty far removed from something like Godzilla. For a modern comparison, the only living "Terror Bird," the Cariama, which has a cute miniature version of a killing claw and is just under a meter all, lives for about 50 or so years, which coincides with the absolute theoretical oldest age for Aptenodytes, the largest living penguin.

Although the deep sea and island hopping habits of the species means there's a good reason humans haven't been stumbling into them all the time, when we look at the Godzilla cycle as a whole, there's only maybe 4 or 5 individuals left that we know of in the post-war world. This actually seems to indicate they have a very prolonged life cycle, as does the two on-screen births of a Godzilla, albeit both under the influence of mutagenic radiation. Perhaps with more competition, or in the deep past, the maximum life expectancy for an individual was ~30 years got Godzillasaurus and it's immediate ancestors, 50 at the most, but with a total lack of natural predators and the biggest problem facing the species being getting enough food and finding a safe place to stash their incredibly slow developing eggs, maximum life expectancy gradually evolves into a minimum, and while the creatures may still mature between 15 to 18 years old, it wouldn't be unusual in the early modern period to find an individual who might be 100 or so years old. After all, there aren't many of them, and if they don't cling to life as long as they can, we wouldn't have any Godzillas at all.

One last point to make about the first Godzilla's age, is that the sacrifice to a sea monster thing doesn't seem to be a very widespread or well known tradition. It looks like it's kinda just Odo Island that did this, and that raises the question of why other island settlements weren't fighting off Godzillasauruses of their own. Did they just get lucky? Going back to both the animal's island-hopping lifestyle and the fact that there was a time when "Gojira" stopped eating all the fish and the old ways transitioned into a vestigal ceremony, it does give the impression that the same animal is responsible for the tradition. And then we have to consider the old man who takes this Gojira business very seriously. The character is played by Kokuten Kodo, reprising his role as a stock elder character in several Kurosawa films from the 40's and 50's, who was born in 1887, making him 67 in 1954. Assuming his character is the same age, there would have to have been some semblance of the ceremony in 1887, and if we say he was just a child when Gojira stopped coming, and it was the previous generation or two that instigated it... we could make things nice and symmetrical if we said Gojira first came to the island in 1854, 100 years before Godzilla and about the time the Elder's parents would have been born. Counting backwards, we might say that the first Godzilla was 115 years old, born in 1849. But then, this is just my own guess.

1954 - Godzilla
At some point before March 1st, 1954, a Godzillasaurus egg was laid on Adonoa Island in the Bering Sea. We know it must be before this date because the resultant hatchling was not a mutant Godzilla but a pristine Godzillasaurus, although it didn't stay that way for long. This is in contrast to Minilla, who's egg has been around since 1955. We also know that the Adonoa egg can not be the child of the Lagos Island Godzillasaurus, and that the 1954 Godzilla did have a child, which is not Minilla, because that's explicitly the child of the Lagos Godzilla. Therefore, probably in the spring of 1953, "Gojira" mated with the female Godzillasaurus (who has never been seen on film but was scripted), who laid the egg in early 1954, while Gojira returned to his favorite fishing spot he used to visit as a younger dinosaur. But instead of a plentiful fishing ground with annual sacrifices like he remembered, Gojira saw the sun rising in the west, and everything changed.

Throughout the decades, Godzilla, the character, has gone through almost every motivation and characterization possible, but never has any Godzilla equaled the sheer single-minded destructive rampage that the original unleashed in 1954. Whether it was intentional malice or not that provoked the attack, this Godzilla was also unique in the completely indiscriminate nature of his destruction. Maybe he was angry and vengeful, but that revenge was still totally directionless. Godzilla, as a character, isn't apparent here, instead he is only the personification of the forces that spurred him into action.

The dates of the film coincide roughly with the actual filming. The original marks his first ship sinking on August 13th, and assuming it takes a few weeks for the electric perimeter to be built, the conclusion of the story might take place around mid to late October, or maybe even as late as November 3rd, which would be pretty cool. However long the event played out over, Godzilla's path seemed to take him on a bee line through Odo Island to Tokyo, then back out for several weeks, and then back again. Maybe the depth charges alarmed him a little, but then after realizing it wasn't an issue, he came back to tore everything to pieces? I'm looking at the fact that after his second, totally devastating rampage, he was found hanging out in Tokyo Bay, which is odd considering how much time must have passed between his two attacks.

At any rate, with the deploying of the Oxygen Destroyer, the only time in main series continuity that weapon was ever used, the nightmare of Godzilla finally ended and the monster was killed off for real.

Post-1954
Or not... ?

This database's policy is that only Godzilla gets separate articles per continuity/individual/etc., but it's interesting to note that the 1954 Godzilla, by virtue of it being a connecting thread between all (or most, really) of the main series timelines, is the only Godzilla to appear in multiple sequels in different timelines where they're not only the same individual, but also take the monster's previous appearance as back story. Compare this to, say, the Lagos or Adonoa Godzillas, who despite appearing in multiple continuities never share any history with each other. Hence, it's sensible to have a separate article for the Showa and Heisei Lagos Godzillas because they are completely different, but the rules are tested a bit when it comes to the Millennium and GMK Godzilla, and even the "Kiryu" Mechagodzilla. Still, I'm sticking with the format.

1954/1996 - 呉爾羅 • Prototype/Ancient/Folklore Gojira
The earliest development of the character Godzilla in any sort of recognizable form is totally unknown, because we don't really know where he started. And in fact much of his predecessors - a giant octopus, a giant ape, someone suggesting the name "Angirasu" for the monster, etc. - are equally shrouded in myth and rumor, probably all intentionally. What can be said with certainty is that the "G" in Project G stood for "Giant," which means the name wasn't there yet, and that the name was there when Shigeru Kayama wrote the original version of the story. It isn't hard to find sound-bites in books, documentaries, and even wikipedia about a phase when the monster was under consideration as a literal gorilla-whale hybrid, but whether or not this actually matches up with the decision to make the monster a dinosaur is debatable. So the only true prototype version we have of Godzilla, for sure, is the one in Kayama's original story.

And wouldn't you know it, the details of this monster are nebulous and unspecified. We know about the monster as a character, that it comes from the sea, is motivated by hunger, has been stealing fish from villagers since the "old days," and he can't stand lighthouses. The only physical descriptions, that I know of, being that the story is still untranslated and I have to rely on second (or third?) hand sources, is the big ears that flop when he's angry, and that because he steps on things, he presumably has feet of some sort.

In fact, there's no word on if this monster was even a mutant, or was simply "woken up" by the bomb after being in hibernation since the old days. Based on his behavior, more similar to the Rhedosaurus than Godzilla, and Kayama's previous catalogue of straight sea monster stories that got him the job in the first place, and especially considering Honda's influence on the finished film, there's not a real reason to believe the prototype Godzilla is anything more than an ordinary, if enraged, animal.

Now while you would think that over the years "Proto-Godzilla" would have gotten a fair amount of exposure and publicity, this monster has curiously faded into obscurity. While the early concrete versions of the monster, such as the "Warty" and "Scaly" marquettes, have gotten multiple figures and collectibles of themselves, a vague sea monster with flappy ears has only ever been seen again, far as I know, once: in "Origins of a Species," the very last Godzilla comic published by Dark Horse.

The flappy eared monster therein is supposed to represent a legendary monster, a stylized representation of Godzilla viewed through the lens of a second or third generation Odo Islander who's telling the tale to their grandchildren or so. It's interesting that this tall tale Godzilla strongly resembles Gorgo in the face, which may or may not be intentional. It's fitting, then, that the prototype of Godzilla, from the development of a film that's so shrouded in it's own folklore, now exists in published material as a legend.

1956 - Godzilla, King of the Monsters
While Godzilla, King of the Monsters was a fairly drastic "Americanization" of the original, all of the changes and edited/added scenes form a story which only overlays the existing narrative, so not a hell of a lot actually changes. The one big thing is the year, now 1956, which means that Godzilla spent two years since his mutation just sort of idling around, I guess. The only other alteration to the character itself was a throwaway line added for shock value by Steve Martin (but not that Steve Martin) about how the monster is apparently over 400 feet tall. This line sounds like it belongs in a trailer, but in the context of the movie, it may be that Martin is just really fucking terrible at guesstimating. Alternatively, the 1956 U.S. Godzilla could actually be over 120m tall, and all of those buildings might just be way larger than they are in real life.

1977 - Cozzilla
In the Italian colorization, Godzilla, il Rei di Monstri or more popularly known as (even to the creator) Cozzilla, the date has been mostly restored. In the original Godzilla's first ship sinking occurs on August 13th, with the rest of the story taking place over a month or more, but here Godzilla's final rampage is moved up to August 6th to coincide with the dropping of "Little Boy" on Hiroshima 9 years earlier. Since this is a colorization of Godzilla, King of the Monsters (with a handful of strange, confusing stock footage thrown in for no conceivable reason), which as I just mentioned merely overlays the Steve Martin narrative over the mostly untouched original story, so too does Cozzilla follow in roughly the same time period, meaning the initial ship sinking must have occurred in late June or early July. Also, this version of Godzilla had an ability to wildly shift its color into a bizarre array of kaleidoscopic neon hues. Or... something.

1985 - Godzilla 1985
In the Americanization of The Return of Godzilla, which likewise to the original was a direct sequel to the Americanization of the first film which ignored the first 14 sequels, the origin of the monster is handled with an ominous air, with Martin bringing up the fact that 30 years ago no one ever found Godzilla's body. Now, Godzilla, King of the Monsters didn't actually change the ending or anything, Godzilla's skeleton still evaporates at the end, but the characters in the film don't necessarily know this, and the implication that Martin is making is that this Godzilla is actually the same one from 1956, reconstituted through some unknown means in something of a prediction of GMK. It doesn't explain why Godzilla is now 80m tall now... but then again, perhaps he shrunk from the original 120m?

Because Godzilla 1985 was the last Americanization before Godzilla 2000, with all of the subsequent Heisei or VS. series films getting a straight, almost completely unedited dub that changes nor adds anything, there is no separate Americanization continuity that acts as a sequel to the glorified Dr. Pepper commercial. This means that without an Americanized Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah we never actually get a confirmation of whether Martin's line is a result of no witnesses or a legitimate retcon. Either way, with the original film being only available to westerners through the grey market for so long, many people incorporated Godzilla 1985 into the regular Heisei timeline, which caused everyone a lot of headaches in the 90's as Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah and Godzilla vs. Destroyah were very clearly not a part of Steve Martin's world.

2000 - Godzilla 2000 (U.S. Version)
Last note about the U.S. first generation Godzilla is that there was a rumor going around at the time of Godzilla 2000's U.S. version theatrical release that the film ignored all previous Godzilla films except the original and Godzilla 1985. Now on the surface this is ridiculous because why would Godzilla shrink 30 meters, but it's established at this point that the Americanizations don't really have much concern over spurious things like facts or measurements, and the 1956 Godzilla could have been 120m and the 1985 Godzilla could have been 50m depending on how little information the loopers had. And when we look at the people involved in the Americanization of Godzilla 2000 and the end result, it isn't unreasonable to suggest that these people were so clueless that they legitimately thought this was the case or intended something like this from the start. And if that's true, and the 1985 Godzilla is the same as the 1956 one as per Martin's line, then so is the Michael Schlesinger one.

1977 - King of the Monsters: Resurrection of Godzilla
In the beginning, the film that became the introduction to the Heisei Godzilla was a totally different beast, not only to that particular film but to the entire series. Although the tradition has by now been well established that remakes are not tolerated, in the late 70's the rules weren't quite nailed down yet, and a lot of strange ideas were considered. As such, the original 1977 draft of Resurrection of Godzilla called for a straight retelling of the original film, but in color, and as such would have featured the return of the first generation Godzilla.

1994 - Godzilla 7: Godzilla vs. Godzilla
The next aborted return of the original Godzilla to the silver screen was in the earliest versions of Godzilla 7, where it came back as "Ghost Godzilla," a spectral version of the original monster that would have somehow killed the current generation of Godzilla, the second iteration in the Heisei timeline.

2000 - Godzilla X Megaguirus
While the issue of whether the Millennium Godzilla was the original or a new one was never established in Godzilla 2000 (although the new Battle Spirits card suggests it is indeed a second one), in Godzilla X Megaguirus we're given the monster's back story, which takes us through some new footage of Godzilla's 1954 attack on Tokyo, featuring the Millennium Godzilla in Shodai-Goji's place. No mention of an Oxygen Destroyer at all, and then we fast forward to 1966, and of course in the present of the film the Godzilla featured is the same one, meaning, at least in GxM's continuity, the Millennium Godzilla is the same individual as the one from 1954.

2001 - Godzilla, Mothra, and King Ghidorah
In something of a revival of the "Ghost Godzilla" story, the 1954 Godzilla was likewise brought back from the dead, although this time as some sort of a zombie possessed by other ghosts rather than an incorporeal ghost itself, as the GMK Godzilla from... you know, GMK.

2002 - Godzilla X Mechagodzilla
In yet another, slightly broader approximation of Ghost Godzilla, the 1954 Godzilla is brought back from the dead again in the Kiryu/Shinsei timeline, only this time not as Godzilla again, but as a spooky ghost-cyborg version of Mechagodzilla. Although mostly machine, Mechagodzilla's DNA computer created from material extracted from Godzilla's spinal column (the skeleton in this timeline doesn't completely dissolve like in the original story, but lingers behind and is recovered by the government) causes it (somehow) to retain the memories of Godzilla from before his robo-resurrection. It is the reason behind a number of instances when a mysterious force overtakes the machine and causes it to become unresponsive and act under it's own will.

1998 - Legends of Godzilla CCG
In the card game Trading Battle was based on, "Hydrogen Bomb Giant Monster Godzilla" is presented as is from the film, but in the context of the game mechanics, represents less of "this is the Godzilla from 1954" and more of "this is a Godzilla with the attributes of the 1954 one." Illustrated most starkly by the card's "digivolutions," putting it in the middle of an evolutionary tree that, in the films, were all different individuals, digivolving from Minilla and to the Showa or "Second Generation" Godzilla as is the literal translation of the character's only "official"-ish name.

水爆大怪獣 ゴジラ(初代) • Hydrogen Bomb Giant Monster Godzilla (First Generation)
1954 Godzilla
Ancient Godzilla Species
[X]   [X]    [ ]    [X]   [ ]   [ ]   [ ]
Fire Water Electric Earth Space Air Forest
★ Radioactive Flame (Heat Beam)
← Little Baby Monster Minilla
→ Gigantic Flame Beast Godzilla
6/5/3/7







(note: the image used in this article is a recreation of the original card, which can be viewed here.)


1998 - Godzilla Generations - Dreamcast
Godzilla Generations is one of those games that presents elements of different movies just as they are, with something of a museum replacing new stories or characterizations. The original Godzilla or "GODZILLA 1st" here is a secret character, the first one, who is unlocked after playing through the game once with either of the two initially playable characters, 80's Godzilla or '74 Mechagodzilla. Playing through the "campaign" mode as GODZILLA 1st unlocks the 1998 Zilla, here called "GODZILLA USA" for legal reasons that I'm not going to get into here. GODZILLA 1st is basically a clone of the 80's Godzilla in game but it isn't able to use the Spiral Heat Beam because... well, because that's not a thing 1954 Godzilla can actually do.

初代ゴジラ GODZILLA-1st
A: Atomic Ray
B: Block
X: n/a
Y: Roar (recovers health)
L: Tail Whip left
R: Tail Whip right

1998 - Godzilla Trading Battle - PlayStation
First Generation Godzilla was one of the cards obtainable in the PSX game which was a variant of the Legends of Godzilla CCG. Because the cards themselves level, the stats of the cards change over time.

2007 - Godzilla Unleashed - Wii
The very last of the last minute additions to the game, Godzilla 1954 is pretty obviously 90's Godzilla with a different head and black & white. A quick fix, but it actually works pretty well and doesn't stand out as particularly unfaithful, especially compared to some of the... other monsters... Because of this '54 is also a clone of 90's Godzilla, and directly so unlike 90's differentiation from the "2000" Godzilla (who of course is actually the 1999 Godzilla). As such he has the same totally nonsensical fireball attack that not only has Godzilla 1954 ever had, but no Godzilla has ever had. The only thing that comes close is the Hanna-Barbera cartoon where Godzilla breathed actual fire, but even then it wasn't in the form of a fireball, and the 1954 Godzilla is certainly not the same as the Hanna-Barbera one.

Unlike Generations and Trading Battle, though, this game is not a museum piece, and the characters are all in-universe versions with similarities to their movie counterparts, but they are not identical to them... except for Godzilla 1954 and 90's Godzilla, who are left out of the story altogether and are not playable in the single player campaign mode at all. Despite this, all three of the monsters are given their own bios and stats, and the stats are universal across each iteration (and are unique from the film versions), while the bios reflect that of the original character. Clearly scale was on the developers mind since they bothered to make sure each of the monsters' game stats reflected their stature in-game, but this contradicts the museum-like nature of the two "bonus" Godzillas. Both Godzilla 1954 and Godzilla 1990's are kind of stuck in this weird in-between area where they're half of one thing and not quite the other.

Godzilla 1954 is a secret character, because of course he is, and is the last monster you get in the game, requiring every other monster to be unlocked before you get a chance to play him. Unlocking secret characters in this game, like in Save the Earth, is a horrible nightmarish chore, because you don't actually "unlock" them, you unlock the opportunity to buy them from an in-game store with stupid in-game credits. You know that thing Smash Bros. does with trophies? Yeah, Godzilla Unleashed does that with playable characters. It takes 100,000... uh, monster coins or some bullshit, to buy Godzilla '54 even after you've unlocked him, and who knows how many playthroughs of the single player mode that equates to. But once you have him, you're finally done unlocking all the things, and can actually start playing the game. Hooray!

Godzilla 1954
Height: 100m
Weight: 55,000t
Bio: The original king of the monsters, this towering behemoth was the first post-war radioactive monster unleashed upon the world. Godzilla '54's atomic-powered body was so powerful that each footprint he left was a crater seeping with lethal radiation. The infamous day that Godzilla rose from the sea to conquer Tokyo will be remembered as the beginning of the humanity's epic struggle against the reign of giant monsters.

Basic Attacks (swinging wiimote while attacking uses a stronger, directional variation)
A: Punch
B: Kick
A+B: Tail Whip

Energy Attacks (hold Z then C to charge energy)
Hold C: Atomic Ray
Tap C: Fireball

Grapple Attack: Backwards Drop-Kick

2013 - Godzilla: Daikaiju Battle Royale - Flash
On November 3, 2013 (Godzilla's 59th birthday, how cute), Godzilla 1954 was finally added to the ever growing roster of Alex Merdich's fan flash fighting game Godzilla: Daikaiju Battle Royale. While the game is very much a museum-game (which I think by now has officially become a thing I'm just going to start saying), bolstered by Merdich's attention to detail and loving recreations of the original material, the arcade mode does present itself with some sort of loose story. The original concept of a straight Monster of Monsters sequel expanded into something wildly different, but this wrap around story that puts the ladder into context is the last remnant of it. What's interesting about this is that Godzilla '54 actually has a unique ending to his ladder, reminiscent of GvsKG where once he's done saving the Earth from space monsters... he's still Godzilla, and he's still going to be just as destructive.

The other unique things about him is the tail whip, an indespensible component of Godzilla's arsenal in the game this was originally intended to be a sequel too, is finally incorporated, making Godzilla '54 really the only iteration of the character you'll ever need to pick. More than that, though, Merdich's devotion to getting everything right landed him in a weird position. The movie was black and white, but the Godzilla suit itself was not. But not only that, there's so many different stories about which color the suit was, spawned both from intentional tall tales and the fact that there were actually four full costumes constructed for use in a black and white film all within a few years of each other, and after a few decades memories get blurred together and no one can seem to keep the story straight about whether the suit seen in the original Godzilla was red, brown, or grey. Merdich's solution to this was to give the character multiple costumes, a black and white, grey, brown, and green (!) version including white, blue, and orange beam effects for each of the non-monochrome versions. Why Merdich went with green, which no one has ever claimed the original suit to be, but not red, who some major players insist was at least the color of the prototype suit, is very curious. But regardless it's a very cool addition to the game.

Godzilla 1954
Special Abilities:
Incandescent Atomic Ray: Hold S, can be aimed up or down and fired while walking
Tail Whip: Hold down, Z
Regeneration: When idle animation loops three times, 5% health is regained

Project G • Development of Godzilla 1952-1954

Although the true beginning of Godzilla's development began in 1945, as this article is concerned with the direct development of the first Godzilla film (and some pre-Godzilla projects), and that begins in 1952.

- 1952 -
海から現れた化け物のようなクジラが東京を襲う
The Ghostly Whale Who Came from the Sea to Attack Tokyo

King Kong
    In 1952, King Kong was reissued internationally, and counted among its enormous audiences Eiji Tsuburaya. Beyond it's importance as a film itself, King Kong is one of the most influential films in history. In the west, stop-motion animator Ray Harryhausen famously was sparked into action by Kong, and his enthusiasm led him to a collaboration with Obie himself, which in turn launched his own career, one that is remarkable for being actually worth watching despite the creative and technical black hole that consumed most western monster films between the end of the Universal "horror" films and the first Alien movie. More than that, a succession of re-releases in the era before home entertainment where that sort of thing was necessary meant that it continually influenced multiple waves of future monster makers. While there is a storied history of monster movies prior to King Kong, there is probably no other single film - other than Godzilla, of course - which carries more responsibility for spreading the monster movie to all corners of the globe.

So to, is Godzilla's inspiration. Although there are plenty of rumors and internet hoaxes about a probably mythical "Japanese King Kong" (sometimes called "King Kong in Edo," and sometimes the two are said to be different creatures entirely), up until then Japan had never entered the monster movie gambit. And really, how could they? The French, German, and American cycles of monster movie history all revolved around a handful, or sometimes just one, exceptionally talented and visionary individuals. Film itself, the very language of cinema, in the ways through which actual stories can be told, weren't really established for the first few decades the technology existed. So naturally the possibility of special effects necessary to bring fictional creatures to life was too far-out to fathom for simple folks just trying to make a silly train movie. Each decade and country where these few pioneers sought to make monsters real had to essentially create their own filmic language and style distinct from dramatic one. Consider Melies' The Haunted Castle from 1896, where his photographic trickery is easily the most technically complicated aspect of the film, which otherwise consists of some doofus bumbling around in a single room in one continuous wide shot.

Eiji Tsuburaya
Eiji Tsuburaya was one of these technical geniuses, but circumstances led him to forgo applying those talents to start the next great wave of special effects and monster films. He entered into the film industry in 1919 as a cameraman, and remained as such throughout most of the inter-war period. When the tides of war came rushing back, his workload consisted of nothing much more than propaganda films, and while it was here where he first honed his miniature and photographic effects skills, it wasn't in an environment conducive to trying to pitch a monster movie. More so, during the occupation, Tsuburaya was blacklisted for his involvement with the genre. So it really wasn't until 1952 when he would have any kind of opportunity to pursue such a thing.

The end of the occupation and the re-release of King Kong made Tsuburaya willing and able to make his own monster film. Now back at Toho, Tsuburaya pitched the fantastically long-winded The Ghostly Whale Who Came from the Sea to Attack Tokyo, presumably a film about a... a ghostly whale... who came from the sea... to attack Tokyo. The two most interesting things about this proposal are the "ghostly" part (化け物のよう or bakemono no you), similar to a bakemono - ghost - in some way, skynet's translator somewhat hilariously defaults to "spooky" in this regard, but presumably not an actual ghost? The other thing is that for all of Tsuburaya's much publicized love of cephalopods, his earliest attempt at bringing a monster to Japanese screens was actually a whale, more directly ancestral to Godzilla than the beast that eventually became Oodako.

- 1953 -
インド洋で大蛸が日本の捕鯨船を襲う
"A giant octopus attacks Japanese whaling ships in the Indian Ocean"

The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms
    Following the successful run of King Kong was the first real Harryhausen picture, itself inspired by Kong. While The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms is utterly typical for the period, a dismal, stupid, and annoying bit of hopelessly bankrupt 50's sci-fi crap, it does have a few things going for it. First, and most obviously, are the impeccable special effects and animation, which are already clearly on par with O'Brien's work, if their earlier collaboration on Mighty Joe Young hadn't already made that clear. Second, there's Eugene Lourie, the director, a Frenchman from an arthouse background who for some reason or another transitioned into making horrible nonsense, who will eventually find his way out of this bag as he completes a sea monster trilogy, the next of which is the far superior O'Brien (and his assistants) animated The Giant Behemoth which is something of an unintentional remake of The Beast but with better everything (and the third one is, of course, Gorgo). Finally, there's an interesting angle in the film about the monster (really just a normal animal) - due to it quite literally being in suspended animation for actually millions of years - carries bacteria with it that is totally alien to the immune systems of Cenozoic animals. It's an interesting and often overlooked element to the "suspended animation" set-up that you don't really see anywhere else, although it does raise the question of why current pathogens aren't making the monster equally sick.

But while The Beast's merits as a film are severely lacking, it did manage to create a significant buzz. Although Obie would personally make two more films and Harryhausen's career was just beginning, ultimately their animation began to be featured in progressively shittier and shittier films, lost in a sea of outright horrible trash. But in 1953, the world had been starving for monsters ever since the end of the Universal series, and with Kong being re-released so near to it, the triumphant animation in The Beast certainly elevated it not only above the almost non-existant competition of the time, but the circumstances of its release and the immediate impact it had on audiences made it stand out more readily than most of following pictures.

Because of this, much has been made of the connection between The Beast and Godzilla. There are certainly similarities, for sure. We've got a prehistoric... diapsid, of some sort, spurred into action by atomic weapons testing, who starts sinking ships en route to a major metropolitan area, which it proceeds to smash up, which in the end is killed by a marvel of modern science. On the surface it seems like Godzilla owes a fair amount to the earlier film, especially when you know that the gamble Toho took on Godzilla wouldn't have happened if it weren't for The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms' success, and indeed some of its formula probably intentionally found its way into Godzilla. But the differences here are profound, and the two wildly different ways of presenting vaguely the same story really highlight exactly why it was Godzilla, and not the "Rhedosaurus," who went on to change the entire genre - and post-modern culture as a whole - drastically.

Last I'll say about the matter is that Ray Harryhausen, who is, and I can't stress this enough, a fantastic artist who gave monster movie history plenty of milestones, a pretty horrible human being. Not to get too into it here, but let's just say the guy is "from a different time" if you know what I mean. A Japanese monster movie, especially one that used his own works as a stepping stool, was simply not a thing to be celebrated, but rather reviled. In Harryhausen's eyes, Godzilla was a rip-off of his unassailable classic. It reads like a joke, but Harryhausen wasn't laughing.

Oodako
Oh, the octopus thing? Yeah, so Tsuburaya's next submission wasn't even pretending to be a long title, it was a sentence long story seed dropped off in the writer's room to try and get the ball rolling on Japan's monster movie. Of course nothing came of it, but it is important because this is the earliest Toho monster ever conceptualized that actually appeared on-screen, Oodako. Some accounts have it that as "Project G" was underway, Tsuburaya did his part to champion his giant octopus for the role of the monster, but while it seems like a thing that probably had to have come up at least once, so much of those first few months is shrouded, much of it intentionally, in rumor and legend. For a monster that technically doesn't have a name, this particular giant octopus has one of the most storied careers in monster movie history, and it actually pre-dates Godzilla's. Think about it.




- 1954 -
海底二万哩から来た大怪獣
The Giant Monster from 20,000 Miles Under the Sea

In the Shadow of Honor
    As the legend goes, Godzilla was born on a plane. Tomoyuki Tanaka was on his way back to Tokyo from Jakarta, sweating bullets after failing to save the politically challenged production of In the Shadow of Honor, a Japanese-Indonesian co-production that was supposed to be one of Toho's big releases that year. Now, with no time left to spare, he had to come up with a new big project that would keep the whole studio up. There's more, too. Tanaka rarely mentioned this in interviews, but the stakes were actually even higher, as it turns out that a radical group of Indonesian terrorists had kidnapped his children, and had secretly hidden a bomb on-board the plane. There was no more money in his savings for grandma's operation, and he was about to lose the farm as well. With no options left, Tanaka reluctantly used his ancient bronze flute handed to him by an ancient sorcerer by the name of "Don Bruhaha" which could only be used once, to summon an enormous ghostly whale from the depths of the Marianna Trench to grant him a single wish in return for possessing his body and using it like a puppet for the rest of his mortal days to enact his terrible plans on the surface world.

Well, so goes the legend. But what is the reality? The chronology of events seems a little confused, in that what's been written doesn't allow for such a plane trip to have occurred. On February 16th, Tanaka and Senkichi Taniguchi, the would-be director of Shadow of Honor, left for Jakarta. With things going along smoothly, they then headed to Hong Kong on the 25th to meet with the star, and then returned to Tokyo on the 28th with the expectation that filming would begin in a few weeks. Telegrams from Jakarta relayed the news of first the postponement of filming, and then the cancellation of the project, on March 20th. Tanaka offered to fly over and try to save the project, but nothing came of it and the studio moved on. This is likely where you'd expect the story to take place, but it doesn't seem to have played out that way.

Tomoyuki Tanaka
Tanaka's grand idea to save the day was a pitch with the dissapointingly-not-as-long-as-Tsuburaya's-titles The Giant Monster from 20,000 Miles Under the Sea. Because so much of what Godzilla is is Ishiro Honda's doing, it's hard to separate the two and really try to get an understanding of just what Tomoyuki Tanaka's pitch really was at that point. According to Wikipedia, the exact pitch was "a dinosaur sleeping on the Bikini Atoll seabed awakens under the influence of hydrogen bomb experiment, and attacks Japan." The core of the legends and sometimes just simple confusion about the earliest stages of Godzilla typically revolves around whether or not Godzilla was originally a dinosaur, or this was picked out from a group of competing ideas (such as an Octopus or literal Gorilla-Whale, both of which have been reported in various sources, both primary and secondary). It's not impossible that alternative ideas for the monster were brought up later, of course. Given how The Beast is thought to be a direct spark, and the popularity of dinosaurs in fiction at the time, I'd have to agree with that.

The thing that gets me, though, is the nuclear aspect. While Tanaka has always maintained that it was there from the beginning, this has seemed suspicious to me, like a lot of bold-faced credit hogging. His story does check out though, and the Lucky Dragon #5 incident was reported a mere four days before the cancellation of Shadow of Honor. Rather, this sort of gut reaction I have to the claim is probably an artifact of what we got. Godzilla is so through and through an Ishiro Honda movie that it's difficult, if not impossible, to imagine the story being told any other way. If we attempt to do so, we might end up with something more of a carbon copy of The Beast, using radiation scare as a cheap exploitation gimmick rather than giving the bomb the amount of gravity it deserves. Tanaka may not be lying, but just because the monster was always supposed to be the product of the Castle Bravo test doesn't mean the story was always supposed to be handled with tact and skill. Tanaka was, after all, a producer first and foremost.

The Lucky Dragon #5
On March 1st, 1954, the United States commenced their most powerful nuclear weapons test to date. The weapon was so powerful, in fact, that they woefully underestimated the area and intensity of the effects it would have. The bomb, given the oh-so-hilarious ironic nickname "Shrimp" (who's the asshole in charge of naming these things?) was dropped at 6:45 and by 6:46 the mushroom cloud had reached 14km in height with an 11km diameter. The explosion vaporized part of the atoll, leaving a 2km wide crater.

As the little fishing trawler watched the sun come up in the west, a strange, sticky powder began falling from the sky. The "death ash," as the crew called it, was so foreign to their collective experience they didn't know what to think of it at first, one of the crew members even elected to taste it. The following day, everyone was in such poor condition that they immediately went back to port, and all hell broke loose.

The Lucky Dragon incident changed everything. While the threat of the bomb was well known since nearly the beginning, this information belonged to a handful of individuals carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders and slipping classified documents back and forth. Truman, Einstein, Oppenheimer, and apparently Stalin knew what was going on, and we're fortunate that they chose to take the matter so seriously, but with the radioactive fish scare, the simultaneous liver failure of the fishermen, and the indication that even the government didn't understand the power they were weilding, this marked the beginning of the anti-nuclear movement as we know it today. The cat was out of the bag, as it were, and the people of the world were justifiably terrified of being eaten by a god damned tiger.

Although it wasn't until 1963 when the first real progress of the anti-nuclear movement was made, the immediate reaction, both in Japan and the United States, was bold and pronounced. Again, it's hard to imagine Godzilla without Ishiro Honda, but without the "death ash," who's to say if anyone would have even listened to what Honda had to say? The importance of the film and the character are rooted in this outrage, something real, tangible, and dangerous. The threat that the bomb posed to all of humanity would set Godzilla apart from what, in the States, might have been just a monster that wanted you to wait in line for toilet paper.

Before the project was officially greenlighted, Iwao Mori, Tomoyuki Tanaka's boss, told him to talk with Eiji Tsuburaya first to see if such a thing was even feasible. Now that's a little odd, isn't it? If Tsuburaya has been spending the past two years dropping hints about wanting to do a monster movie, don't you think maybe he was already certain that he could pull it off? What a weirdo to pitch a series of monster movies, BE the special effects guy, and then not have the ability to actually MAKE the monster itself. Well, maybe Mori didn't know about Oodako and the whale thing. Of course Tsuburaya was all-in, and so Tanaka needed one last piece to bring it all together. Senkichi Taniguchi had already found another project, so a new director was needed, and Honda had a personal stake in it.

G作品
Project G

    With the project greenlit, the working title changed from the absolutely ridiculous TGMF20kMUTS to the more mysterious Project G (the G is for "Giant"), and marching orders were to keep everything under wraps. In the first month, between mid-April and mid-May, there doesn't seem to be anything known about the development of the project. This could simply be because there was no progress being made, or it could also be the lingering shadow of this policy of absolute secrecy. There is a piece of concept art floating around by Kazuyoshi Abe which features an ape-like head with a silhouette reminiscent of a mushroom cloud. I've heard that this was a submission, one of many welcomed solicitations by various artists across Japan, but this sort of flies in the face of the secrecy of the project. Another unknown regarding the image is exactly when this was supposed to be submitted, as the only specification I've ever seen is "early." The existence of this clearly mammalian image is one of the anomalies of the monster's design development that contribute to rumors that Godzilla was going to be various different kinds of animals during the production.
The name was a whole other thing, with there being no less that four different origins for "Gojira." I've read that among some of the other ideas for names was "Angirasu" or Anguirus/Angilas, but that tidbit isn't volunteered often and it's hard to find a real reliable source for it. Regarding the legendary, folkloric origin of the name, the popular story is that it was a nickname for an employee at Toho, sometimes a member of the publicity department, sometimes (perhaps more logically) a stage hand. Sometimes this individual is identified with a name, sometimes not. Sometimes, the story is totally different, relating an in-house contest for employees to name the monster. Kimi Honda, probably the most sensible commenter of the bunch, stated flatly that she believes the legend of where the name came from, as well as the name itself, were simply brainstormed like any other element of the film. It makes far more sense to me, at least, that a production studio full of talented artists can come up with something as simple as a name without having to resort to a nickname for a fat guy. It also makes a lot of sense that some of the legendary tale of the making of Godzilla is a "tall tale," as Honda put it, both because of the policy of secrecy at the time as well as the importance the events have to modern culture. We, traditionally, have liked our mythmakers to be just as interesting as the myths themselves.

Shigeru Kayama
On May 12th, novelist Shigeru Kayama agreed to take the case, and worked for 11 days, turning out a 50 page "treatment" which would become the basis for Godzilla's story. Kayama's story shows the skeleton of the finished film, with a handful of notable differences, and because the monster itself hadn't been nailed down yet, was only referenced in vague descriptions other than the large ears that flap when he's angry.

 A series of mysterious ship sinkings, as each subsequent rescue ship gets swallowed up under unknown circumstances, causes chaos and panic to escalate in Japan, especially occuring so soon after the Lucky Dragon incident. When we meet our main characters, they're a tad different. Emiko and Ogata are engaged, with Serizawa merely being a friend and the love triangle aspect of the story non-existant, although all three have the same roles in the plot. Dr. Yamane is drastically different, being a somewhat sinister character who lives in a spooky mansion and wears a cape. He doesn't even go to Odo Island, and his exposition about Godzilla's origin theory isn't given to parliament but rather on television, where he hammers home his point that Godzilla should not be killed because he's a rare specimen. This motivation, while somewhat less noble than that of his movie counterpart, is still pretty compelling. Even if it was just an ordinary, non-radioactive Godzillasaurus, that's still kind of a huge deal, right?

Yamane's characterization goes even further down this road, however. When the plan to build a giant electric fence around Tokyo goes into action, firstly, it's kind of a major plot point. This is nothing more than a montage in the final film, but in Kayama's story the fence takes several weeks to build, with a steadily increasing sense of tension as to if it will be built in time, as the costs build up as well. And as a counterpart to the dread, there's also a question of whether the monster will reappear at all. When Godzilla is confronted with a finished fence, however, Yamane steals away into the night to sabotage it himself, a last vestige of his fanatical efforts to prevent the monster from being harmed.
Cover of what I believe is the 1976 re-issue of "Godzilla: Tokyo and Osaka Edition," which collects Kayama's original story for both Godzilla films he wrote. Here called "Tokyo Destroyed by Godzilla" and "Godzilla and Anguirus."
And that's the character that probably changed the most, even more than Yamane. Godzilla, rather than being a personification of the bomb's devastation, an unstoppable wall of indescriminate desctruction that belches pestilence and flames, is really just an animal. Although the conclusion of the film still revolves around the Oxygen Destroyer and Dr. Serizawa's sacrifice, during his attack on Tokyo the military don't really do anything to him, so it isn't entirely clear if this monster is the same irresistible force from the film, but it certainly doesn't seem likely. Godzilla is a simple animal motivated purely by hunger and instinct, and in fact actually eats during the course of the story. Like, eating food. Think about it. The radioactive ray or beam or fire or whatever, being Honda's invention, was also not a part of the story at this point.

The conclusion of Kayama's story again mirrors the film, with the sacrifice of Serizawa, but without the focus on him that is apparent in Murata and Honda's rewrites, the scene only works as a symbol of protest moreso than an ultimate dramatic beat of a mercilessly melancholy movie. Regardless, the pieces were now all in place, with Tanaka's topical monster gamble, Tsuburaya's big chance to make Japan's first real monster movie, and Kayama's story of a prehistoric sea monster, all that was left was for Ishiro Honda to actually go ahead and make Godzilla.