Hey, this an essay i wrote for school about Ishiro Honda/godzilla. It had some guidelines, so its not everything i would have chosen to write, but i figured id post it incase anyone finds it interesting :)

Ishiro Honda Writer/Director Study

Ishirō Honda was born May 7th, 1911, in Asahi, a village located in Yamagata Prefecture, Japan. He entered the film industry in 1934 and worked for 15 years as an assistant director for numerous films. His first feature film, 1952’s The Blue Pearl, was a commercial success in Japan. His most famous work, helping spawn the kaiju and tokusatsu genres and launching the longest-running multimedia franchise in history, was 1954’s Gojira, or, Godzilla. The filmmaking of the 1950’s was defined by spectacle, the rise of television, and most importantly, fear of atomic energy. Overseas, monster movies revelled in radiation-mutated insects and extraterrestrial invaders causing mayhem. The same year Honda’s Gojira was released, America’s Universal monster series produced The Creature From The Black Lagoon, a profitable triumph in design and technique, worthy of recognition, while lacking anything to say about nuclear power. The growing cultural response to science fiction, revitalized by the atomic bomb, made Godzilla the perfect candidate for an emotional, serious introspection of the genre.

On March 1st, 1954, a Japanese fishing boat named Daigo Fukuryū Maru, or Lucky Dragon No. 5, encountered fallout from the U.S. Castle Bravo nuclear test in the Bikini Atoll. The mushroom cloud polluted over 7,000 miles (more than twice the anticipated radius) and blew nuclear ash that fell like snow onto the fishing boat. Inhabitants of the nearby islands weren't given proper time to evacuate, resulting in widespread sickness. Not knowing what it was, the crew members of the boat touched the ash, licked it, and even kept some in a pouch to be studied on the mainland. They quickly developed blistering, nausea, headaches, hair falling out, and bleeding from the gums, among other symptoms. They returned home and were diagnosed with acute radiation poisoning, killing one of the crew members. The U.S. gave no response to this. Eight months later, Gojira released, the opening scene featuring the titular monster destroying a Japanese vessel with a ray of glowing radiation. 

Honda’s Godzilla plays both the victim of nuclear devastation and the perpetrator of it, the human-dinosaur and the man in the rubber suit. He is the connection from the first major extinction event to the cause of the next, mankind’s most dangerous weapon. Awoken from a deep-sea hibernation by nuclear testing, he wreaks havoc on post-war Tokyo. The hard part is buying that he was alive under the sea for 65 million years; the easy part is buying that the creature exists. Led by Eiji Tsuburaya, the special effects team simulated the look of Keloid scars on human skin for Godzilla’s suit; the result is a charred, blackened shape, unique to Godzilla in that it doesn’t represent leathery, reptilian hide or scales. In this movie especially, his look inspires terror, not the cute, more human look of the later Showa Era. His iconic roar is pained and grating, designed by Akira Ifukube with a leather glove covered in pine tar dragged on a contrabass, then slowed. Godzilla’s atomic breath was produced by a spray of mist, the resulting melting buildings formed out of hot wax shot in fast-motion. The miniatures being stomped through resemble real places in 1950’s Tokyo, painstakingly constructed then destroyed in an instant, a highly difficult process done in order to fulfill the method of “suitmation” instead of the more common stop-motion style of the time. 

The film’s stance is concise and effective. Godzilla has no means of connection with the human race other than walking and breathing. In his case, both of these cause destruction. Like 1933’s King Kong, an influence on this series and Godzilla’s rival just two films later, he mostly reacts in pain and confusion. Much can be drawn from his fairly blank template in terms of personality and motivations. Ishirō Honda saw where Godzilla could become a symbol of tragedy, but also where he could further entertain, bringing more monsters to battle and different ways to express cultural issues. His first go may have been the most succinct, but Godzilla’s later adventures add further cultural weight. Honda said he “took the characteristics of an atomic bomb and applied them to Godzilla,” in order to make him “equal” to an atomic bomb (Ropeick 1). The creature can die, in fact he does often, but he returns each time. Throughout the series this happens in the form of regeneration, asexual reproduction, and even irradiated matter forming new monsters and “sons” of Godzilla, born from “G-Cells.” These easily justify the existence of more movies, monsters, and battles, not without metatextual significance. Since the 50’s, countless products of international film and television have been influenced by Godzilla, and these “G-cells,” might refer to that. These themes of propagation also bring to mind the never-ending threat of nuclear power. In the Showa Era alone (1954-1975), Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster and Mothra vs. Godzilla easily connect Godzilla to outer space and prehistory. All this implies that Godzilla always has and will be there, in-universe and culturally. 

Many others helmed the role of directing the Godzilla franchise. Toho Studios saw younger audiences lose interest in Godzilla, and over time, the “story” across the films became less about the atomic bomb. Straying further from this and into different sci-fi narratives, it may have served as a way to move past the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki for some people. Godzilla often became a symbol for hope, even working alongside the humans in many films. Other issues like climate anxiety could be addressed in creative ways (Godzilla vs. Hedorah). It could be argued that the franchise lacks a serious critique of Japan’s role in WWII, but over time Godzilla has been used in different ways and to represent different things, stemming from Honda’s anti-imperialist messaging. 2014’s American Godzilla conjured images of natural, environmental power “winning” over man-made constructions. 2016’s Shin Godzilla criticized Japan’s complete failure to respond adequately to the 2011 Tohoku earthquake and Fukushima nuclear disaster. The last film directed by Ishirō Honda was 1975’s Terror of Mechagodzilla, in which Godzilla fought a rematch against his man-made robot counterpart. Mechagodzilla is another example of tying elements of sci-fi futurism to potential commentary on the genre; it is, in many renditions, constructed by humans and born from the decaying skeleton of the original Godzilla. During the ‘70s, the U.S. would see the release of Close Encounters, Star Wars, and Alien. Despite these films coming a few years after, the growing interest in sci-fi may have led to the unique position of Terror of Mechagodzilla: the lowest-grossing Showa era film in the series in Japan, but a success in the U.S. It is also unique in that it began somewhat of a monster-hiatus for Toho Studios; the next Godzilla film was a reboot that wouldn’t be released until 1984. Ishirō Honda commented that he wished he could work with Yukiko Takayama on more films, seeing that a "woman's perspective was especially fresh" for the genre, while SFX Director Teruyoshi Nakano expressed he was happy they had “successfully introduced a sci-fi flavor to Terror of Mechagodzilla, which we had not done with other Godzilla movies before” (Homenick 1).

Honda returned to filmmaking in 1980 to help legendary director Akira Kurosawa on his last five films, including Ran, Kagemusha, and Dreams. He mostly served as an associate director, creative consultant, and production coordinator. Honda passed away from respiratory failure on Feb. 28th, 1993. He directed tokusatsu, romance, documentaries, musical, and biographical films. This quote from a 1968 interview with Midi/Minuit Fantastique gives insight to his thoughts about monsters: “Monsters are tragic beings, they are not evil by choice. They are born too tall, too strong, too heavy; that is their tragedy. They do not attack people because they want to, but because of their size and strength, mankind has no other choice but to defend itself…After several stories of this, people end up having a kind of affection for the monsters; they end up caring about them...” (“Ishiro Honda didn’t believe”).

Works Cited

Homenick, Brett. “MEMORIES OF MECHAGODZILLA! SFX Director Teruyoshi Nakano   Reflects on 35 Years of ‘Terror of Mechagodzilla’!” Totorom, October, 2009.

https://vantagepointinterviews.com/2022/07/20/memories-of-mechagodzilla-sfx-director-teruyoshi-nakano-reflects-on-35-years-of-terror-of-mechagodzilla/

Ropeik, David. “How the unlucky Lucky Dragon birthed an era of nuclear fear.” The Bulletin, 28, February, 2018. https://thebulletin.org/2018/02/how-the-unlucky-lucky-dragon-birthed-an-era-of-nuclear-fear/

“Ishirō Honda didn't believe film monsters were actually villains” MeTV, 22, January, 2026. https://www.metv.com/stories/ishir-honda-didnt-believe-monsters-in-film-were-villains