Godzilla vs. Mothra (1992)

directed by Takao Okawara

Japan

102 minutes

4.5 stars out of 5

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What an absolute delight this one was. How incredibly entertaining and beautifully crafted these 1990s films can be! It took me a long time to come around to them because I may be a bit of a Showa purist, but I've been rewatching some of the Heisei films lately and they're surprising me with how perfect they are. Kenpachirō Satsuma is a master of the suit, and this movie has some of the best and most extensive full-body shots of Godzilla I've seen thus far.

This film introduces us to a darker counterpart of Mothra called Battra, a sinister-looking entity who is prophesied to battle Mothra, yet is also intertwined with her in a complex, fascinating relationship. Mothra (and Battra too, to some extent) in this film represents not just the anger of the wronged inhabitants of Infant Island this time, but the will of the entire Earth, rebelling against the human race's cruelty and repeated betrayals. Like in Mothra vs. Godzilla, the question is raised of whether humans are deserving of Mothra's (and by extension, Earth's) mercy, and while ultimately the film takes the stance that we can be redeemable if we own our mistakes, the link between rampant greed and the destruction of the planet is made plain. Big businessmen debate over the buying and selling of Mothra's egg and the furnishing of more mining, testing, and depleting right up until (and while) their city is destroyed by the direct consequence of their unchecked greed. "How can it be my fault?" rages the CEO, kneeling and slamming his fists on the floor while beside him a television plays a live feed of the destruction he is responsible for, but refuses to see as his doing.

This film has possibly the most unlikeable lead character in a Godzilla movie that I can think of. I'm paying more attention to the human drama while rewatching these Heisei movies and finding that there is a lot more nuance there than I had given them credit for, but in this case, I actually think the lead guy is more of a dirtbag. He does go through a whole redemption arc (although he doesn't really do much to deserve it other than just, like, realize he should have been paying child support) and turns out as a decent father by the end, but wow, I did not care to see this guy on screen more than I absolutely had to. The first time or two I watched this, I applauded it for its character development, but now, even though I acknowledge that character development is there, I also acknowledge that I still don't like the characters.

When I rewatched this last night I couldn't stop thinking about how Mothra sometimes feels like she represents forgiveness. Especially in this movie. Godzilla is like the spectre of past mistakes, getting dragged up over and over, unable to stop haunting humanity, and Mothra is the possibility for forgiveness and healing and regrowth. And the important thing is that they coexist! They always coexist, in every film! Remembrance of past mistakes is both possible and essential for looking towards a future where we can make things better! I might have cried at the end of this movie.

Another thing I was noticing more on this most recent viewing was the parallels between Battra's creation story and Godzilla's. We're not given much detail, but the Cosmos explain that scientists from their civilization had created machines intended to deplete the Earth's life force (presumably for their own gain) and that the Earth, in response, gave birth to Battra as self-defense. Pitting a creature born from the Earth, tied to the Earth intimately, having come into existence due to human (I mean, "human", Cosmos, whatever) error but ultimately through the energy of the Earth itself, against Godzilla, a wretched horror dredged up from the bottom of the sea and cursed to haunt the land through no fault of its own by human hubris... I mean, that's mythologically compelling stuff, I think.

If there's anything I think is unusual about this film, it's that it throws a couple of plot points at us and then refuses utterly to elaborate on them. I'm thinking specifically about Battra's origin story (I feel like a flashback sequence might have been warranted at that point) but also about the almost jarringly sudden reveal at the end that Battra was supposed to go take care of a giant meteor that is on a course to destroy the planet but, whoops, now Mothra has to do it instead because Battra sacrificed himself trying to kill Godzilla. Like, why even mention that when the movie has five minutes left to go? I want to say it's because of the explanation of how SpaceGodzilla evolved (Godzilla cells that were stuck to Mothra as she flew into space fell into a wormhole on accident and somehow became SpaceGodzilla), but was that movie really even in the planning stages at this point? Not to mention the two films were written and directed by different people.

Now this is where I run into the limits of my vocabulary, because when I'm as deeply sucked in and transfixed by something as I was during that final battle, I have a hard time expressing with any degree of eloquence why it's so good or why I'm enjoying myself so much. I just know that I am. This is visually one of the best fights I've seen in the whole franchise - the expansive miniature work is just astounding, I have no idea how they were able to construct an entire city that looks perfectly in scale with Godzilla. Not to mention that this will make you feel real emotion towards Mothra and Battra - towards puppets, not even an actor with a suit, but puppets - which is some kind of magic. And there's just this tone to it all, this mood, Godzilla stomping through a nighttime cityscape full of PlayStation ads, neon signage, skyscrapers, and all the hallmarks of a comfortably excessive decade of economic growth, tearing it all down, exposing the wires, the fragility of it. Godzilla busting out of Mount Fuji because sure why not. Battra refusing to succumb to his nature and recognizing himself in Mothra, and vice versa. I think this movie represents a crowning achievement of technique in the Godzilla series, in how it's able to make us feel for every character, human or not.