Part 2 - Godzilla vs Megaguirus: Strengths, Stupidities and Sophistry, Transcript version

By Joe Gibson

 

The following is the second and final part of my review and literary criticism of Godzilla vs Megaguirus. (Here is part one: Plan 9 Crunch: All About Cult Films: Transcript Version - Godzilla Vs Megaguirus: Strengths, Stupidities, And Sophistry PART ONE). If you would prefer to watch this essay, here is the link to the YouTube upload Godzilla vs Megaguirus: Strengths, Stupidities and Sophistry. If you are stumbling on this without the context of either the first part on the blog or the full video, this part will pick up discussing Kiriko Tsujimori’s standout scene climbing on Godzilla’s back, but you really should look at the setup I described for getting to this point so you can understand my analysis getting to this moment.

 

The G-Graspers take samples of the felled Meganula, and Godzilla approaches the raft where Tsujimori and Okamura are. Tsujimori relocates Okamura back to the ship and puts on her protective gear in the same manner with the same confidence as she puts on her sunglasses. She swims over to Godzilla, the being that terrified her before she lost her commanding officer, and she clings to his back even though the radiation exposure registers on her suit. She shoots the micro transmitter into Godzilla and jumps off into the ocean, so that they can track him without using his energy. Finally, she calls him a lizard just as her CO did.

 

That scene is, for many, a stand out moment in the entire Godzilla franchise, but I seldom hear discussion about how this is evidence that she is acting as her commanding officer in this, her coolest moment. He died trying to get her to safety, with a strategic retreat, when she was so scared of Godzilla that she was not thinking rationally. Now, she swiftly and decisively removes her subordinate from danger, fearlessly climbs on Godzilla’s back and pushes herself to make sure this retreat is not a total loss by planting the tracker and escaping to curse the lizard once more. In that regard, she has surpassed her CO, but the question is if she realizes that. Another question would be if she was only able to do so because of her superior technology or her discipline.

 

Now comes the introduction of a scientist to explain what the child already told us and the film already showed us about the Meganulon life cycle, and this is another example of the film’s odd exposition habits. As a small SGS searches through the flooded Shibuya for Meganulon eggs and finds many, Tsujimori’s composure betrays her, and this makes sense as she is currently not wearing the sunglasses and in a deferential mood to Kudo, who designed the small SGS, and the other experts in the room. She might also have realized just how severe Jun’s mistake was, and she perhaps relates that back to her own mistake long ago. Sugiura plays with a chessboard, and this is the only bit of foreshadowing as to his later heel turn. Next, sans sunglasses but in more formal military wear, she explains the operation to lure Godzilla to Kiganjima island to shoot him with Dimension Tide, and she appeals to the next generation and children, indicating she is likely still thinking of Jun. Sugiura assures their backers that this plan will work.

 

Yoshizawa confronts Sugiura on his assurance to the government that Dimension Tide was ready before any tests, and Tsujimori, in full Major attire including a hat, takes Sugiura’s side but does so politely (so Yoshizawa has only kind words for Tsujimori). During the operation, there is another moment where a sunglasses-less Kiriko looks at Godzilla with fear but then steels herself, marking a change from Kiriko to Major Tsujimori in the operation. At the same time, the Meganula theme begins to play in all of its glory as soldiers floating in Shibuya try to shoot down as many Meganulon as they can before they mature. That is certainly a sentence. The CGI is noticeably bad, but the music augments this scene in a very important way.

 

 

When Godzilla finally arrives at the island, his suit finally shows the brighter green pigment it is known for, but very quickly, he is swarmed by dragonflies, so the contrast may be the intent there. It makes sense that the Meganula would follow him here; they found him before, and there are too many of them for him to kill before they can take some of his energy. During all of this, the Dimension Tide is on a timer, and Sugiura insists that they must proceed with the strike even if the bugs are there.

 

After Godzilla kills most of the Meganula, the strike fires on Godzilla, and Sugiura smiles prematurely. The strike merely displaced Godzilla, either sending him backward or possibly burying him (which will become important next time they fire the Dimension Tide). Godzilla contemplates going after the Meganula, then turns around to glare at Tsujimori and then starts heading to the National Chemistry Institute in Shibuya, which we learn from Sugiura on a phone call as he knocks all of the pieces off his chess board.

 

 

The Meganula return their stolen energy to their queen and die, but we do not have time to think about that as Tsujimori and Kudo argue. Though lacking the physical markers of the change, Tsujimori switches from aggressive to meekly apologetic in a very pronounced manner. Back in Shibuya, Megaguirus’ magnetic powers cause the technology to malfunction, and she bursts out of the water with her iconic design consisting of a reptilian face, tail with a stinger and rapid CGI wings. I like Megaguirus a lot, and I also think her parts of the film are the most unscathed from plot contrivance. It just takes a bit to explain her powerset as I have not adequately done in the past. Her flight causes sonic booms and uncomfortable vibrations in the human ear, and now she can harness Godzilla’s energy. In the past, she was merely fast, strong and territorial. So is Godzilla though, as he is still on his way to Japan. In a brief cameo appearance, we see Jun trying to evacuate with the crowd.

 

Tsujimori finally asks Sugiura why Godzilla is attacking, recapping that it was definitely plasma energy that summoned Godzilla in 1996 and that Japan no longer produces energy. Again, I think that means that the Griffon jet and other advanced technology cannot be plasma powered because that would mean that somewhere else is producing the plasma power and not getting attacked if the contained plasma plant within the Science Institute is enough to summon Godzilla now of all times.

 

Megaguirus interrupts the Griffon’s battle with Godzilla, and this battle theme is another highlight of the movie’s soundtrack. This review will not replace the experience of watching the film, and to prove that point, I will not recap the choreography here. I like this fight a lot and think it shows off the fighting styles of the kaiju involved very well. Despite being so climactic, it technically plays out almost as a cul-de-sac in the film.

 

I will say that as payoff to Megaguirus affecting technology before, she affects the G-Graspers’ tech including Dimension Tide now. In this scene where Tsujimori’s eyes are not covered, she looks more vulnerable than the rest of her team, and this corresponds to the raising stakes. When Kudo returns to the base after his injuries sustained from Megaguirus, Tsujimori shows concern, until he calls her out on it, and she resumes a gruffer mission-oriented demeanor. Throughout the film, she shifts her attitudes very deliberately and constantly, and you’ll see why it is important that I bring this up literally every time it happens in the sophistry section of the essay.

 

 

The dispatch of Megaguirus means that Godzilla can resume his rampage, and Tsujimori finally admits they are helpless against Godzilla. This is an important but very, very understated part of her arc in the film. As the Griffon becomes airworthy, it convenes with Sugiura, who fled to the room and Yoshizawa, who followed him there. Tsujimori, guard fully down, asks Sugiura very emotionally why Godzilla is attacking the Science Institute, and here is the exposition that plasma energy was explicitly banned but Sugiura is still using it anyway to generate wealth and, implicitly, though again this contradicts a lot of the inferences you have to make in the movie, fund and power the G-Graspers. Tsujimori accuses Sugiura, finally blaming him for all of the people he sent to die fighting Godzilla for the last 5 years.

 

Now is the most confusing part of the movie. Her ideals having been broken down by the reveal that the G-Graspers were founded on avoidable casualties and the Dimension Tide literally falling out of the sky, she puts the helmet back on, steels her demeanor again, has Dimension Tide lock on her in the middle of the capital city and detonates Dimension Tide to take out Godzilla. This only somewhat diminishes the strength of her character. The best analogy I can think of is the 1976 King Kong and how it misses the mark for the most part but still somehow has the best version of Jack Driscoll as Jack Prescott and the only actually believable love story in the franchise, yet the wonky themes still mischaracterize Jack briefly towards the end of the film. How can avenging her CO in the most reckless way possible wearing insignias that exacerbated the problem be the ideal way to end this story?

 

 

Well, that stumped me before, but let’s draw to make sense of this. That is the point of this video after all. The imagery is very similar to the later circumstances of Minus One’s final charge, but I only bring that up for your benefit to understand this scene better. Obviously, this film existed independent of Minus One for about 20 years, but nonetheless in the same manner as Shikishima putting Noriko’s picture on the dashboard, she puts the dog tags, the symbol of her lost commander in front of her, executes a kamikaze run and ejects her seat at just the right moment to deal a critical blow to Godzilla. In this context, I wonder if we can view this as the death of the split Tsujimori and the beginning of a character free to live as she wants to. She immediately makes fun of Kudo for his concern over her, so the reading also exists that the Kiriko part is what died, but then the film shows us that she let her hair down finally, and she stands on top of a building surveying the damage, quite literally where she was before her CO died. In a bookend, she visits Kudo once more for help but with her hair down and sunglasses off. They tease each other to close out the film, though I have made the mistake in the past of implying there is not still a dutiful formality to their interaction that muddles the romantic interest.

 

Of course, the real end of the film is a post credits scene where Jun, at school trying to move on with his life, hears Godzilla roar. Plot recaps indicate that Godzilla also emerges from the ground similarly to how he did on the abandoned island, but I never noticed that before, nor had I about it in the discourse of the film. The building rattles, and we hear an explosion, and he reacts in shock as if something happened. That’s what is actually in the film. I find it more interesting if Godzilla is trapped in some other dimension able to imprint ripples on the world still, but that is an idea popularized in the discourse that I have already established overwrites certain aspects of the film. Fittingly though, it is ambiguous and hard to tell exactly what it is trying to say. All evidence in the film suggests however that if you do not destroy every part of Godzilla decisively, he will come back very soon after.

 

(Partial) Conclusion (Keep Reading For Sophistry Section)

 

 

There is a tension in this review that may or may not be obvious to you at this time. I clearly like the film a lot because I spent so much time embroiled in this, and yet, as I indicated was a possibility, this review is far more negative than positive. There is also an air of incompleteness, I am sure, as we have only talked about the strengths and the stupidities, but I promised sophistry. Going into this project, I assumed that the movie would be a 2 out 10, but with the strengths in mind, as inconsistent as they are, I think the movie deserves a 3 out of 10 for including certain narrative short-hands that mitigate the problems without really solving any of them. For context, again, I believe a 5 out of 10 film would be perfectly balanced in strengths and stupidities and also would round up to a good film, so it actually is a sizable victory that this film achieved that extra point that takes it that much closer to being good.

 

One of the things reviewing these films has taught me is that my opinion on and feelings about a movie can be wholly separate to its actual quality, as best as I can determine it. Though it is tragic and often frustrating when a piece of art does not live up to its full potential, appreciating a film, respecting a film, and liking a film can be about honoring it, including its lessened quality. Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire is a 4 out 10 movie (maybe lower), but I love it for how close it gets to crossing that threshold into being an actually good film. I do not need to pretend that there are not systemic issues in the film to like it, but also how much I like it and how much I care about appraising it fairly means I also try not to invent problems with it to be able to share my assessments without having to defend them. I like a lot of 4 out of 10 movies and will argue that people oversimplify every score below a 7 out of 10 as simply bad with no degree of nuance and thus no productive takeaway on what the successes and failures present should teach us about writing stories. At the end of the day, my argument is that if any film deserves respect, all do, and my opinion is that I like certain movies a lot.

 

But Wait, There’s More?

 

More than even just wanting to review it fairly, I now have a vested interest in trying to formulate a schema where this movie makes sense. And technically speaking, at least based on my forays into an English degree, that is generally where actual literary criticism comes from as opposed to what I define as a review. The bias that Hamlet should make sense and be cohesive is the point from which New Criticism analyzes it according to every single plot point to conclude, in opposition to authorial intent and audience consensus, that Hamlet has an Oedipal Complex. There are aspects of this that are important to the kind of reviews I like to write; authorial intent is not Word of God, the general audience seldom is as clinical in their assessments as a review should be, and the best stories have total cohesion and consistency across every plot point, theme and character arc. 

 

However, New Criticism is an egotistical scam, allowing the Critics to write incredibly cryptically and teach each other’s works to keep each other employed all while getting increasingly self-important and pretentious about the role of the Critic as they define it. Indeed, I like to say that every literary theory basically serves to commodify tactics every audience member uses (whether consciously or subconsciously) to advance the careers of whichever old white man got to coin the term. As I see it, being a card-carrying practitioner of any of these theories means you are respecting the theory and its progenitors over the art. Similarly, someone that focuses on supplementary material (Word of God statements in interviews or a commentary track) respects the author over the art, and someone who reviews a film based predominantly on their own emotions respects themselves more than the art. Though each of those has their place in the discourse (and further, each of those aspects can and should appear in a review), I believe the art deserves the most respect out of these options in a true review. 

 

However, to do what I am about to do, I have to ignore the film’s narrative shortcomings, not actually meeting the film where it is at and thus disrespecting it, because of my respect for Tezuka’s later films using these archetypes, my subjective like of this film and my participation in the institution of literary criticism. I will write any kind of essay that I can, but I will call out when I am not living up to the standard I hold for Reviews. So, for the Sophistry part of this essay, allow me to attempt to convince you that this 3 out of 10 film is actually a 10 out of 10 through the esteemed scholarly practice of using big words and abstract concepts as trickery to pretend a story I like is better than it is.

 

How This Movie Is Actually The Best If You Ignore Everything Except Me Right Now But Including Me Five Seconds Ago

 

So where to go about rehabilitating this movie’s reputation? The first thing we need to do is accept that everything needed to understand this story is in the film itself. In this cohesive experience with a collaborative script, a prolific director (in the Millennium series at least), some amount of studio meddling, and wildly variable audience opinion, the one true objective view of this film cannot come from any of those components, only the finished film itself. If the movie is good, for it to be good, the things within it must all work together toward it being good. Again, as I mentioned, good stories are cohesive, but cohesion is defined by the film itself, so the organic unity of this film’s execution is what legitimizes it.

 

We will ignore the ‘heresy of paraphrase’ for this exercise because that really only applies to poetry, and a ‘review’ is necessarily a separate experience from a film itself. Still, that is actually the main reason I did not describe the final battle, so that a New Critic cannot accuse me of ignorance about the “heresy of paraphrase.” Otherwise, I hope this to be an accurate depiction of the process and outcome of New Criticism. The marriage of structure and meaning in New Criticism means I cannot continue to complain about the exposition habits in this movie but must figure out why they are the way they are. The elements of form are also significant, as I have paired the soundtrack to the action as Godzilla and the Meganula both have significant leitmotifs.

 

In New Criticism, we have to be very stringent about what outside information we use. A notable allusion to a previous work counts, and, in much the same vein that New Critics read Hamlet and used his symptoms to justify bringing in a discussion about the Oedipus complex, the objective correlative can only include an external concept if you truly justify it. However, for the most part, the only thing that matters right now is the film and the critic, so if you have any notes on the director Masaaki Tezuka and his intentions, burn them now!

 

Or maybe don’t; you see, this is where it gets a little difficult. New Critics have to be well read scholars aware of major allusions in a text, as that becomes a narrative shorthand to group together concepts. Tezuka’s name, naturally, appears in the credits and thus within the film itself. Is that a notable enough allusion to the primary creative of the world we are seeing to implicate him in its creation? Even if that does not count, Tezuka actually plays a character in the film: the teacher in the post credits scene. Tentatively, I would still say we cannot discuss him without better reason, especially because his other films came after this one, but I am open to contrary opinions in the comment section. In any case, the allusions I made to Spider-Man 2, Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla, Godzilla vs Biollante, and the Tell Tale Heart are all irrelevant and have to be ignored in New Criticism of the film. More to the point, my speculation that more of Godzilla 1954 is canon than we realize must also disappear. The film never mentions the Oxygen Destroyer and only juxtaposes rocket launcher guns to a black hole gun, so I do not have warrant to read that into the text.

 

The goal of New Criticism is to find the objective correlative that unites the film, the whole film and nothing but the film so help you God, and I did some of that in the Strengths and Stupidities segment in order to make this a little easier on both you and me. The relationship between Tsujimori and her commanding officer is the focus of her arc, as she takes on the role of him as a source of strength to alleviate her guilt. Nothing says this explicitly in the film, but I walked you through all the little moments that lead us there, thus proving, with every scene in the film, that she is a well-rounded consistent character. I still believe her character to be a great one, but it was ultimately circular logic, and to do the task I set out to do, to use New Criticism on this movie, the rational part of me that explains the trick of this sophistry will have to leave you as abruptly as the Jun left the movie.

 

Since I eventually settled on the themes of masculinity vs femininity in regards to understanding her personality split, firing a gun to prove her strength at two notable moments, and letting down her hair once she left her CO’s dog tags behind when defeating Godzilla, I could maybe read in specific stories like Mulan or the writings of Qiu Jin, but probably not. Even those still feel a little bit off topic, and we have more stuff to explain with the objective correlative.

 

 

The expository habits in the film are functional, bringing in foreshadowing directly when relevant and abridging very important events for some reason. The revelations about plasma technology feel like an afterthought, but character considerations are put in the forefront, as we see the scenes introducing Tsujimori and Sugiura in full, when they may have been better summarized, and even Yoshizawa’s truncated backstory still informs aspects of her character, see how the stilted snapshot nature of the flashback is likely how she allows herself to experience it. One of the few plot devices that gets set-up many scenes ahead of its payoff is Kudo’s Dimension Tide Operating System, first designed as a Nurse and then after Tsujimori. This connects to how he tries to protect the feminine side of Tsujimori in the gym and as a Chibi sprite, but, in both instances, she forces out the “real” Tsujimori to shoot a gun very well. In that sense, the character relation of the Dimension Tide to grief is more important to the film than the presence of black holes in the equation, and the fact that Tsujimori can use this endless grief for good even in reckless circumstances means that the characters are primary to the theme as well.

 

Within this film, it seems that the optimal morality in this film is a system wherein we judge actions and plot points by their consequences, specifically the Godzilla related ones. So, Godzilla-repelling ends justify the means. Society bans nuclear energy because it attracts Godzilla; once plasma does the same, they ban it as well. The emergence of Megaguirus uses material from the Meganula and Godzilla, so even the Big Bad of the film can only become such with Godzilla and his power within her. Before this, the child that carries her to Shibuya is a sympathetic character; after, we do not see him in that same light, mainly because he disappears from the movie. But what this means is that this sympathetic aspect of the Meganula is gone after that point. The grown Megaguirus is coded with the reptilian ferocity of Godzilla, not with the childlike innocence of an egg. The flooding of Shibuya is not a holy baptism or necessarily a yonic image but relates Megaguirus to Godzilla further as they both rise out of the water. Also, the Meganula seek energy but only Godzilla’s, making it reflective of him rather than continuing the motif of plasma summoning monsters.

 

The averted fate of an all-consuming Godzilla-caused nuclear meltdown juxtaposes the all-consuming deluge of Shibuya, which juxtaposes the all-consuming nature of revenge and a black hole gun, but the actions of Godzilla and of the power of Godzilla in the Meganula are what is evil, and the actions that prevent Godzilla are good. This is what the film shows us, and it remains entirely consistent to this theme, as this understanding solely resolves the paradox of Tsujimori’s recklessness and the ambiguity of Dimension Tide and the G-Graspers. Furthermore, Kudo’s presence wholly augments the G-Graspers’ efforts, debatably being what redeems them. The Dimension Tide can only work if he helps, the Godzilla tracker is his invention, and he develops a mini version of the Search Godzilla System just in time for it to help them with the Meganula infestation. Furthermore, his automated chibi Nurse operating system takes on the visage of Tsujimori when it fixes the problems with Dimension Tide, communicating that the union of Kudo and Tsujimori is what can win against Godzilla in this movie.

 

Under the schema of New Criticism, the horror imagery is more important. We are ignoring other kaiju movies except for possibly Rodan (but it is safer not to even bring him in anymore), and the Meganulon in this film stars in a suspenseful and gory scene against a human couple in Shibuya, then the horde menaces Godzilla. In the final battle, Megaguirus sneaks up on Godzilla several times, stabs him and smiles wickedly, flying over the Griffon in the same kind of misdirect as the two city workers that the Meganulon passed before striking the couple. It does not matter that the director had no considerable horror experience; that is actually preferred. The art speaks for itself, and this is a film with deep horror elements.

 

The film’s confusing morality, ambiguous storytelling and withholding of certain crucial information until it is almost pointless to know also effectively puts the viewer further on edge about the experience. I cannot invoke specific strains of horror, but I can conclude by saying that this means that Godzilla vs Megaguirus, like a New Critic’s poetry, is a work that you cannot just summarize, because it behaves as its own experience, inspiring all sorts of different feelings to make its own unapologetic whole. I started this essay off by explaining how Godzilla vs Megaguirus is overwritten in popular discourse, and though I am showing disdain for New Criticism while doing this, I think New Criticism gives us a schema for how to visualize that, very effectively.

 

Thank you for getting this far in the essay; whether you found it through the blog or previously watched the YouTube version, it helps us all the same, and I hope this gives you a reason to revisit Godzilla vs Megaguirus, which you can stream for free on Tubi. If you do, I would ask you to do so without Godzilla 2000 in mind, without knowing that Misato Tanaka will actually play a nurse in Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla, a film that makes the plot points of this one seem more cohesive and without a tendency to overwrite the film's meaning...unless you find it more fun that way.