Godzilla, Mothra, Rodan, King Ghidorah. That's the four major Toho food groups right there. Of course they're only around for about twenty minutes, which really isn't enough in a 90 minute movie; Mothra never even metamorphoses. But don't forget - there's the absolute lunacy of the rubber suit universe to confound us while we wait for fights.
It can be a wonderful plane of existence, this manga world where rules are made to be stomped on. A chic princess steps out of an exploding airplane at 30,000 feet and lands on earth, dressed as Che Guevara and claiming to be the Venusian Cassandra - in a nod to the Greeks, nobody listens to her. In fact conspirators in Foster Grants and Elizabethan syphilis collars try to assassinate her with a letter opener. She is aided by 8-inch sisters who have a flying carpet but sometimes travel by pet carrier. The sight of these Liliputian twins singing "Do not forget to smile!" to a giant maggot, on a "Where Are They Now?" TV show, is not one I will soon forget.
King Ghidorah is my favorite rubber monster for a couple of reasons. One is his three heads, which always look dangerously out of control, whipping manically as they spit their death-rays. Another is the death-rays themselves, which except for Toshiro Mifune's sword are the most destructive force in any Toho film. This is after all the monster who killed Venus - usually it takes an entire civilization of alien monkeys to threaten a whole planet. These rays rip up cityscapes and topple buildings more effectively than Rodan's wings or Godzilla's breath, which has all the damaging power of tepid steam. However, the premium placed on puppeteers and pyrotechnics made Ghidorah the most expensive monster to film, so we never really get enough of him, especially this time, when he's barely on screen long enough to blow up an amusement park.
Also appearing are the standard early-60s Garfield-eyed punchy boxer version of Godzilla, a buzzard-like incarnation of Rodan, several snazzy suits and more stingy-brim hats than James Bond could toss onto a hat rack, all photographed in a very pretty, if staid, use of 70 millimeter Tohovision. Plus the selfless line:
"This is rather primitive, and not scientific, but..."
and this exchange:
"No doubt. She is the princess."
"Okay. Let's try shock treatment."
It can be a wonderful plane of existence, this manga world where rules are made to be stomped on. A chic princess steps out of an exploding airplane at 30,000 feet and lands on earth, dressed as Che Guevara and claiming to be the Venusian Cassandra - in a nod to the Greeks, nobody listens to her. In fact conspirators in Foster Grants and Elizabethan syphilis collars try to assassinate her with a letter opener. She is aided by 8-inch sisters who have a flying carpet but sometimes travel by pet carrier. The sight of these Liliputian twins singing "Do not forget to smile!" to a giant maggot, on a "Where Are They Now?" TV show, is not one I will soon forget.
King Ghidorah is my favorite rubber monster for a couple of reasons. One is his three heads, which always look dangerously out of control, whipping manically as they spit their death-rays. Another is the death-rays themselves, which except for Toshiro Mifune's sword are the most destructive force in any Toho film. This is after all the monster who killed Venus - usually it takes an entire civilization of alien monkeys to threaten a whole planet. These rays rip up cityscapes and topple buildings more effectively than Rodan's wings or Godzilla's breath, which has all the damaging power of tepid steam. However, the premium placed on puppeteers and pyrotechnics made Ghidorah the most expensive monster to film, so we never really get enough of him, especially this time, when he's barely on screen long enough to blow up an amusement park.
Also appearing are the standard early-60s Garfield-eyed punchy boxer version of Godzilla, a buzzard-like incarnation of Rodan, several snazzy suits and more stingy-brim hats than James Bond could toss onto a hat rack, all photographed in a very pretty, if staid, use of 70 millimeter Tohovision. Plus the selfless line:
"This is rather primitive, and not scientific, but..."
and this exchange:
"No doubt. She is the princess."
"Okay. Let's try shock treatment."