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Looking Back on the Evolution of Godzilla Through the Decades

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I’ve been a Godzilla fan for as long as I can remember, with my childhood fascination with the radioactive reptile likely stemming from the 1998 animated series which served as a sequel to the first American remake. From there, I soon begged my parents to feed me with whatever Godzilla-related media they could find. As a teenager, I became a little more selective in my enjoyment of movies featuring the King of the Monsters, gravitating towards the horror aspects of the original and a handful of its successors. As a grown man, however, I have no shame in admitting that I frequently rewatch the cheesiest of these flicks while rooting for the monsters as if they were professional wrestlers in rubber suits.

That’s why I don’t say it lightly when I claim that I’m not aware of any other movie monster (or franchise, for that matter) as versatile as this one. I mean, a brutal throwback to the original film (in Godzilla Minus One) is currently co-existing with a physical incarnation of the planet’s immune system (in Legendary’s Monarch: A Legacy of Monsters), and that’s why I think this is the perfect time to look back on the many faces of Godzilla and dive into how a fire-breathing dinosaur can mean so many things to so many different people.

Everyone and their mother is aware that Ishirō Honda’s 1954 Godzilla was more than a simple creature, with the film exploring the aftermath of the atomic bomb and the social climate of post-war Japan. After all, details like the titular monster’s keloid-scar-inspired skin texture and the inclusion of imagery meant to harken back to the fire-bombing of Tokyo remind the viewer that this movie was produced less than a decade after the end of World War II. But how could such a horrific monster movie spawn worldwide toy-lines and one of the most prolific franchises of all time?

Well, the runaway success of the original Godzilla (and its infamous American re-edit) quickly led to a sequel. And while Godzilla Raids Again didn’t necessarily turn the giant dinosaur into a hero, it did create another kaiju for him to fight, giving audiences a chance to root for their favorite monster in a decidedly less controversial adventure. That was all it took for Godzilla to become an institution, with future sequels expanding his rogue’s gallery and turning him into a more marketable King of the Monsters by becoming the lesser evil among his foes.

Here comes a new challenger!

As time went on and the character became more popular overseas, we saw a gradual shift in the depiction of Godzilla as popular culture turned him into something akin to a Japanese national hero. It was only in the Heisei era that we’d begin to see more nuanced takes on the monster, like in 1984’s reboot The Return of Godzilla. Marketed as a return to form for the franchise, Return is a direct sequel to Honda’s original film, making the radioactive dinosaur a proper villain as he wreaks nuclear havoc in the midst of the Cold War.

This reinvention would be more popular than many of the kid-friendly sequels of the latter-day Shōwa era, but Toho would soon make Godzilla a protagonist again in a series of sequels that combined the joy of multiple monstrous antagonists with the reboot’s darker edge. This new continuity culminated in 1995’s Godzilla vs Destoroyah, which saw our radioactive anti-hero undergo a nuclear meltdown which endangered the entire planet – all the while fighting against his deadliest foe yet.

Funnily enough, when it came time to finally produce the long-gestating American reboot of the character, Hollywood decided to go back to basics and tell a surprisingly simple kaiju story where Godzilla would be the only threat. However, instead of engaging with the monster’s controversial atomic history, Roland Emmerich’s 1997 remake depicts the creature as more of a confused animal (literally a radiated iguana) than a vengeful force of nature – with the final moments even making us sympathize with a being that had no fault in its creation.

Meanwhile, Toho would once again experiment with multiple conflicting takes their biggest IP, with the ensuing Millennium Era featuring the character as everything from a monster-fighting hero to a stand-in for natural disasters in the span of five short years. I’d argue that the most notable (and spooky) of these incarnations was Godzilla: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack, where Mothra and a new, friendly version of Ghidorah team up to face a villainous Godzilla possessed by the spirits of those killed by the Japanese during the Pacific theater of World War II.

After the middling reception of 2004’s Final Wars (a throwback to the costumed wrestling days of 1970s Godzilla flicks), Toho would retire Godzilla for over a decade, with the character only really making a resurgence in 2014 with his second American Reboot. In Gareth Edwards’ re-imagining, which is now the definitive version of the monster in Legendary’s Monsterverse, Godzilla is described as a radiation-consuming embodiment of earth’s natural balance, a neutral guardian of sorts that doesn’t necessarily involve himself in human affairs (despite apparently having been worshipped by the people of Atlantis, as we saw in the 2019 sequel).

A worthy addition to the franchise.

The success of this reboot led Toho to reconsider Godzilla’s retirement, with the studio recruiting Evangelion creator Hideaki Anno and his co-writer Shinji Higuchi to re-imagine the character for modern-day audiences. The result of this bizarre experiment was my personal favorite incarnation of the monster in 2016’s Shin Godzilla, where the constantly-evolving antagonist became an allegory for the dangers of Nuclear power in the wake of 2011’s Fukushima disaster. And while I’ve already written about the merits of this Lovecraftian reboot, I also think that the film’s final lines about the monster being something that we must learn to live with rather than destroy also apply to franchise moviemaking as a whole.

Since then, Toho has also partnered with animation studios in two separate anime projects – one of them a trilogy of feature-length specials re-characterizing the monster as god-like threat that reshapes the earth itself into its image and the other a 13-episode series that incorporates hard sci-fi into the monster’s origins. While neither of these were massive hits, it’s nice to know that creators can still come up with novel spins on Godzilla nearly 70 years down the line.

However, it’s important for Toho not to lose sight of the monster’s gloomy origins, and that’s why Takashi Yamazaki’s Godzilla Minus One appears to be a retro treat for fans of serious monster movies. And while I haven’t yet had the pleasure of checking it out, I think there’s something special about a Godzilla flick going back in time to the context that originally inspired the character. Plus, it looks like it would make for one hell of a double-feature with Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer!

At the end of the day, the best part about getting into Godzilla movies is that there’s something in this franchise for everyone. From serious ruminations on the consequences of nuclear war to family-friendly creature features, the series has no problem with re-inventing itself for new audiences. And when your favorite movie monster can effortlessly glide between genres and themes in order to keep itself relevant, I think it’s safe to say that the future looks bright for Godzilla fans.

Shin Godzilla

‘Shin Godzilla’

Born Brazilian, raised Canadian, Luiz is a writer and Film student that spends most of his time watching movies and subsequently complaining about them.

Books

‘Jaws 2’ – Diving into the Underrated Sequel’s Very Different Novelization

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It took nearly five decades for it to happen, but the tide has turned for Jaws 2. Not everyone has budged on this divisive sequel, but general opinion is certainly kinder, if not more merciful. Excusing a rehashed plot — critic Gene Siskel said the film had “the same story as the original, the same island, the same stupid mayor, the same police chief, the same script…” — Jaws 2 is rather fun when met on its own simple terms. However, less simple is the novelization; the film and its companion read are like oil and water. While both versions reach the same destination in the end, the novelization’s story makes far more waves before getting on with its man-versus-shark climax.

Jaws 2 is not labeled as much of a troubled production as its predecessor, but there were problems behind the scenes. Firing the director mid-stream surely counts as a big one; John D. Hancock was replaced with French filmmaker Jeannot Szwarc. Also, Jaws co-writer Carl Gottlieb returned to rewrite Howard Sackler’s script for the sequel, which had already been revised by Hancock’s wife, Dororthy Tristan. What the creative couple originally had in store for Jaws 2 was darker, much to the chagrin of Universal. Hence Hancock and Tristan’s departures. Hank Searls’ novelization states it is “based on a screenplay by Howard Sackler and Dorothy Tristan,” whereas in his book The Jaws Log, Gottlieb claims the “earlier Sackler material was the basis” for the tie-in. What’s more interesting is the “inspired by Peter Benchley’s Jaws” line on the novelization’s cover. This aspect is evident when Searls brings up Ellen’s affair with Hooper as well as Mayor Larry Vaughan’s connection to the mob. Both plot points are unique to Benchley’s novel.

The novelization gives a fair idea of what could have been Jaws 2 had Hancock stayed on as director. The book’s story does not come across as dark as fans have been led to believe, but it is more serious in tone — not to mention sinuous — than Szwarc’s film. A great difference early on is how Amity looks and feels a few years after the original shark attack (euphemized by locals as “The Troubles”). In the film, it seems as if everything, from the townsfolk to the economy, is unaffected by the tragedies of ‘75. Searls, on the other hand, paints Amity as a ghost town in progress. Tourism is down and money is hard to come by. The residents are visibly unhappy, with some more than others. Those who couldn’t sell off their properties and vacate during The Troubles are now left to deal with the aftermath.

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Image: As Martin Brody, Roy Scheider opens fire on the beach in Jaws 2.

It is said that Roy Scheider only came back to fulfill a three-picture deal with Universal (with Jaws 2 counting as two films) and to avoid having his character recast. Apparently, he was also not too pleased (or pleasant) after Szwarc signed on. Nevertheless, Scheider turned in an outstanding performance as the returning and now quietly anguished Martin Brody. Even in the film’s current form, there are still significant remnants of the chief’s psychological torment and pathos. Brody opening fire on what he thought to be the shark, as shocked beachgoers flee for their lives nearby, is an equally horrifying and sad moment in the film. 

In a candid interview coupled with Marvel’s illustrated adaptation of Jaws 2, Szwarc said he had posted the message “subtlety is the picture’s worst enemy” above the editor’s bench. So that particular beach scene and others are, indeed, not at all subtle, but neither are the actions of Brody’s literary counterpart. Such as, his pinning the recent deaths on Jepps, a vacationing cop from Flushing. The trigger-happy drunk’s actual crimes are breaking gun laws and killing noisy seals. Regardless, it’s easier for Brody to blame this annoying out-of-towner than conceive there being another great white in Amity. Those seals, by the way, would normally stay off the shore unless there was something driving them out of the ocean…

Brody’s suspicions about there being another shark surface early on in the film. For too long he is the only one who will even give the theory any serious thought, in fact. The gaslighting of Brody, be it intentional or otherwise, is frustrating, especially when considering the character is suffering from PTSD. It was the ‘70s though, so there was no intelligible name for what Brody was going through. Not yet, at least. Instead, the film delivers a compelling (and, yes, unsubtle) depiction of a person who, essentially, returned from war and watched a fellow soldier die before his very eyes. None of that trauma registers on the Martin Brody first shown in Jaws 2. Which, of course, was the result of studio interference. Even after all that effort to make an entertaining and not depressing sequel, the finished product still has its somber parts.

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Image: A page from Marvel’s illustrated adaptation of Jaws 2.

How Brody handles his internal turmoil in the novelization is different, largely because he is always thinking about the shark. Even before there is either an inkling or confirmation of the new one. It doesn’t help that his oldest son, Mike, hasn’t been the same since The Troubles. The boy has inherited his father’s fear of the ocean as well as developed his own. Being kept in the dark about the second shark is also detrimental to Brody’s psyche; the local druggist and photo developer could have alleviated that self-doubt had he told Brody what he found on the dead scuba diver’s undeveloped roll of film. Instead, Nate Starbuck kept this visual proof of the shark to himself. His reasons for doing so are connected to the other pressing subplot in the novelization.

While the film makes a relatively straight line for its ending, Searls takes various and lengthy detours along the way. The greatest would be the development of a casino to help stimulate the local economy and bring back tourists. Brody incriminating Jepps inadvertently lands him smack dab in the middle of the shady casino deal, which is being funded with mafia money. A notorious mob boss from Queens, Moscotti, puts a target on Brody’s head (and his family) so long as the chief refuses to drop the charges against Jepps. In the meantime, the navy gets mixed up in the Amity horror after one of their helicopters crashes in the bay and its pilots go missing. A lesser subplot is the baby seal, named Sammy by Brody’s other son Sean, who the Brodys take in after he was wounded by Jepps. Eventually, and as expected, all roads lead back to the shark.

In either telling of Jaws 2, the shark is a near unstoppable killing machine, although less of a mindless one in the novelization. The film suggests this shark is looking for payback — Searls’ adaptation of Jaws: The Revenge clarifies this with a supernatural explanation — yet in the book, the shark is acting on her maternal instinct. Pregnant with multiple pups, the voracious mother-to-be was, in fact, impregnated by the previous maneater of Amity. Her desire to now find her offspring a safe home includes a body count. And perhaps as a reflection of the times, the author turns the shark and other animals’ scenes into miniature wildlife studies; readers are treated to small bits of infotainment as the story switches to the perspective of not only the killer shark, but also the seals and a navy-trained dolphin. The novelization doesn’t hold back on the scientific details, however weird as it may sound at times. One line sure to grab everyone’s attention: “There, passive and supine, she had received both of his yard-long, salami-shaped claspers into her twin vents.”

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Image: Roy Scheider’s character, Martin Brody, measures the bitemark on the orca in Jaws 2.

Up until the third act, the novelization is hard to put down. That’s saying a lot, considering the overall shark action borders on underwhelming. There is, after all, more to the story here than a fish’s killing spree. Ultimately though, Szwarc’s Jaws 2 has the more satisfying finale. Steven Spielberg’s film benefitted from delaying the shark’s appearance, whereas the sequel’s director saw no need for mystery. The original film’s reveal was lightning in a bottle. So toward the end, Jaws 2 transforms into a cinematic theme park ride where imagination isn’t required. The slasher-at-sea scenario is at full throttle as the villain — wearing her facial burn like a killer would wear their mask — picks off teen chum and even a pesky helicopter. And that’s before a wiry, go-for-broke Brody fries up some great white in the sequel’s cathartic conclusion. That sort of over-the-top finisher is better seen than read.

It would be a shame to let this other version of Jaws 2 float out to sea and never be heard from again. On top of capturing the quotidian parts of Amity life and learning what makes Brody tick, Hank Searls drew up persuasive plot threads that make this novelization unlike anything in the film franchise. If the Jaws brand is ever resurrected for the screen, small or big, it wouldn’t hurt to revisit this shark tale for inspiration.

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Image: The cover of Hank Searls’ novelization for Jaws 2.

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