Godzilla 1985 in it's original Japanese version was a moderately entertaining film, but certainly nothing to get excited about, and certainly not worth the five year wait. It's sort of like if you were a Star Trek fan really excited about this huge, expensive, new state-of-the-art return for your beloved show, then you go see Star Trek: The Motion Picture, and well, it sucks. Or it doesn't so much suck as it simply lets you down in a monumental way. The one thing that puts Star Trek: The Motion Picture a notch above Godzilla 1985 is the fact that Trek had that sexy bald girl in the little toga. Say what you will about Star Trek, but they use the little toga and mini-skirt a lot, so that makes them cool in my book.

Of course, then along came Star Trek: The Next Generation, which had a decent mini-skirt and skimpy toga count for the first season, but then got really PC after that and had everyone parading around in goddamn burlap sacks and shit. I don't know what your vision of a utopian society is, but mine is most definitely not an agrarian society where we all plant rhubarb and wear burlap sacks. And I don't think I'm alone in this. But every time Picard and his minions go to one of them "peaceful utopian planets of absolute joy," everyone's all fucking excited about planting some goddamn potatoes and wearing smocks. The fuck? Look, if I want to find Paradise, it's going to be old series Paradise. Remember when Spock found Paradise? He had a sexy lady in a little mini-skirt, and they spent the whole day swinging upside down in trees and frolicking in fields while Spock bellowed, "I'm in love, Jim!" That is some Paradise, brother. Not once did you see Spock stop and go, "Wait, if we stop all this traipsing and fucking, then we can go hoe a field!" No, Spock was all like, "Fuck that farm work shit! I'm gonna go skinny dipping with my woman!"

And that's the way it should be. No one wants to plow for all eternity, yet those assholes in the Next Generation were always out in the fields, smiling, planting, and wearing sacks. Well let me tell you something: farm work is hard. It's not Paradise. And neither is wearing burlap sacks or pantsuits. So look, get out of your brown smock, throw down your hoe, put on something sexy, and run through the fields with me and Spock. You'll be much happier than if you were planting tomatoes.

Of course, if we all throw down our plow and quit farming, then we'll eventually starve. So we'll probably have to oppress some of you and make you toil in the fields to feed our new leisure class, but hey that's no problem, because we'll just get those field-plowin' assholes from Next Generation! Problem solved. Now let's all go off and be Eloi!

Anyway, where was I? Sorry, but that just really pisses me off. Okay, so Godzilla 1985 in Japan was a bland film. Godzilla 1985 in America was one of the most laughably atrocious debacles I've ever witnessed. Gone was nearly half the original movie, and in it's place we got Dr. Pepper drinking generals and, of course, Raymond Burr doing exactly what he did when he was spliced into the original Godzilla film buy the Americans of the previous generation: he looks on in awe and terror. And of course, he gives the requisite "You don't know what you're up against" speech that was mastered by Richard Crenna when he played Rambo's commanding officer in First Blood. You know the speech. Some cocky bad-ass will be bragging about how they have Rambo cornered and he's in a cave eating rats, and it'll be simple to catch him, so then the commanding officer type has to do the whole bit about "Rambo is a specially trained killing machine who used to kill Viet Cong generals using just a toothpick from a mile away blah blah blah I hope you bring a lot of body bags."

It's always a sign of bad writing when the movie has to take time out to have someone assure us that the main character is indeed the baddest mother fucker ever to walk the earth. If you make a good movie, then we'll know the guy is a bad-ass. It's like how every Steven Seagal movie has to explain to us how bad-ass his character is, or how WCW keeps telling us they're great and their wrestlers are really cool when we all know they are old washed-up farts (especially Kevin Nash -- whoever thought of marketign this guy as the hip, edgy one is about eight years out of touch with the rest of society). Don't tell us someone is cool or tough; show us, baby. Lesson number one in high school creative writing class.

Well, Raymond Burr is to Godzilla what Richard Crenna was to Rambo. And I'm still thinking about Spock swinging upside down in a tree and laughing his ass off.

As is always the case, these new American scenes were put in so we white folk could better relate to the film, because we would never understand a movie starring nothing but those crazy Asian people. You know, I grew up watching Ultraman and Godzilla, and not once did it occur to me that I shouldn't relate to them because they were Japanese. Not once. Hell, I didn't even know there was supposed to be a difference between me and them. That whole "children won't relate" thing is such utter bullshit that I can't even believe people still try to pull it. Kids don't fucking care, and even better, they simply don't know. They don't know that they are supposed to hate someone because of their ethnicity. They don't know that we are supposed to isolate ourselves from other cultures. They don't know Japanese from American from Laplander. What they know is that they are watching cool monsters and robots kick each other around and smash things up, and that my friends, is a universal that transcends any sense of national identity, like farts and old people who cuss and guys who get kicked in the balls.

Adults cling like hungry monkeys to this idea that "children won't relate" in an attempt to displace their own racism, their own inability to see people as people and not as curiosities or "others." Adults are the ones who can't handle a Japanese show full of Japanese people, and they blame it on children, who really don't give a fuck about who is what. You know, that's why I can't stand most adults, and why I hate this whole trend of trying to take kiddie entertainment and sell it as "not just for kids." You know what? I watch Godzilla movies. I watch cartoons. I buy toys, and I fucking play with them. I don't keep them in a box hermetically sealed up inside a safe deposit box. I get them out and I play with them. Fuck you. It's stupid and childish and I really don't care. I'm not trying to convince myself that it's something serious and adult, because you know what? Adult stuff sucks. Taxes are adult. Buying fucking silverware is adult. Paying your rent or utility bill is adult. Being a bitter racist asshole is adult. That shit sucks.

Playing with toys and watching giant monsters fight each other is simple, childish, and pure. I wouldn't have it any other way. So next time you sit down to read a comic or watch a silly movie, don't try to tell yourself it's an adult thing. Try instead to think about what it's like to be a kid again, to not be strapped down by the discrimination and hate and narrow-mindedness that creeps in as we get older. Try to remember what it was like to not know or care if there was a difference between black, white, Asian, or whatever. Try to remember what it was like to be creative and imaginative and free from the stress and fear and loathing of society. Try to remember what it was like to be a child. Enjoy yourself. Enjoy those around you. And for Christ sake, afterwards, go outside and play.

So anyway, America chopped up Godzilla 1985 and added a lot of Dr. Pepper product placement. Godzilla movies are not free from obvious product placement, of course. Whoever gave the film the most money usually has their building and brand name featured prominently in the film as Godzilla knocks it over. But at least that's integrated. It fits. I don't think five-star generals sit around NORAD downing cans of Dr. Pepper as they tensely wait to see if one nuclear missile will intercept another.

With the dismal failure of Godzilla 1985 it would be fifteen years before America would get another Godzilla film on the big screen (unless you count that 1998 Matthew Broderick romantic comedy that had some giant monster scenes in it). This could be because it stung so bad, or it could be because in America, we only release Godzilla movies with a date in the title. Either way, by all accounts Godzilla 2000 is another thoroughly average film, but I'll wait until I see it to actually make that judgment.

Anyway, that's all in the future, and who cares about the future when you can live in the past? I went through this whole goddamn thing about Godzilla and racism and the death of childhood innocence (as exemplified by Spock in the episode I mentioned earlier where he swings in the tree and shouts "I'm in love, Jim!") just so I could tell you that the last movie before the Godzilla 1985 to get released to American theaters was Godzilla Versus Megalon, generally considered one of the all-time worst Godzilla films ever made, assuming a powerful position alongside the equally despised Godzilla's Revenge and Godzilla Versus Gigan. Now it's not going to surprise anyone, I don't think, to learn that just like those other movies, Godzilla Versus Megalon is one of my personal favorite Godzilla films.

Try to set the mental stage, and once again, remember that you used to be a kid before you grew up to be a bitter nerd like me. Think about watching this movie as a sprout. I remember it clearly. When I was young, I absolutely loved this film. I remember my friends and I getting together with friends to play Godzilla, and someone always wanted to be Jet Jaguar. The Godzilla films of the 1970s were colorful, full of action (except for Terror of MechaGodzilla), and had lots of weird gadgets and other stuff to make little kids fall in love with them. Because I am childish and immature, I can watch Godzilla Versus Megalon through those same eyes, forgetting for a moment that I have sat through the collected works of Bergman and Godard. I drop the pretense, the snideness, and I can enjoy watching monsters slap each other around while a robot flies in circles and a hard-bodied little bachelor guy in hip-hugger slacks jumps in and out of his sports car.

Jun Fukuda is the director here, the man responsible for a good many of the Godzilla films people love to hate, starting with Son of Godzilla. He was the one who helped bring Godzilla into the "superhero" years, when Godzilla was an earth-defending good guy instead of a building-kicking bad-ass.

So here you go. The film begins with portents of doom in the form of one of those little whiny kids in micro-shorts. This one has a lame-ass paddleboat sort of ... thing, and is out for a fun day at the rock quarry pond or something (well, it sure as hell ain't a nice beach) with his two gay parents. Well, I assume the part about the gay parents, but you gotta look at the evidence. No women anywhere in the film, two young good-looking guys in chest-revealing discoware out for a quaint picnic together at the lake. Like it or not, Godzilla Versus Megalon is an early crusading film teaching us that gay parenting is really no different or less healthy than hetero parenting, so lighten up. The children of gay couples will be just as fucked up and trigger-happy as the rest of the country's teenagers.

If you are the kind of person who memorizes the look of little kids in microshorts, then you may recognize the little kid. He also played "the little kid" in Godzilla Versus the Smog Monster and Time of the Apes. And weirdly enough, he was also in an Akira Kurosawa film, Dodes'ka-den. Seems weird at first until you remember that Akira Kurosawa was buddies with a lot of the Godzilla people. One of his good friends and frequent collaborators was Godzilla creator Inishiro Honda, and one of his favorite composers was Godzilla music creator Akira Ifukube. Despite these ties, Akira Kurosawa did not put the kid in little micro shorts, best I can remember.

The professor type guy, played by Katsuhiko Sasaki, also had a long career, or at least a career, in the genre. Aside from his fine work in this film, he appeared in 1991's Godzilla Versus King Ghidorah, Terror of MechaGodzilla, and one of our personal favorites of bad cinema, Last Days of Planet Earth.

I don't know if Yutaka Hayashi, the guy who plays Hiroshi, the firm little buddy of Professor Ibuki, had much of a career after this film, but he is named Hayata, which was also the name of the character who turne dinto Ultraman in the original series. So there you go. A little something for everyone.

An earthquake suddenly hits, cracking the ground open. It turns out that an underwater race of people led by Robert Dunham, one of the better American actors to pop up in Japanese films. Dunham wears a skimpy little toga (see Spock argument from earlier on) and a tiara sort of thing, giving us further proof that this indeed a gay rights film. You know, no one wants to see Robert Dunham's hairy self in a toga and tiara, but I support his right to dress however he wants as long as it makes him feel good. Maybe later he can swing upside down in a tree and throw fruit at William Shatner. Wouldn't we all like to do that?

Dunham's people are the Seatopians, an ancient race predating man. They are sick of humanity's atom bombs destroying their undersea kingdom, where women also wear skimpy togas and engage in big dance numbers. So there you go. Utopia, mother fucker. No one plowing fields and wearing sacks. These people know how to have a good time, but of course The Man has to harsh on their fun with atomic bomb tests. Seatopia announces basically to themselves (it's just Robert Dunham yelling in a big cavern) that they are declaring war on us surface dwellers. You kinda have to look at them as the good guys. I mean, we're nuking their home for fun and profit.

Being an ancient, vastly advanced superior race in a Japanese movie, they spend all their time doing dance rituals and chanting and their master plan is not a super cool bomb or giant army of dolled-up toga-and-tiara wearing warriors. Their big plan is to unleash a monster on the surface. I mean, it only makes sense. The Seatopians are too suave and laid-back to wage a war themselves. They'd rather get naked and sip tropical drinks out of a hollowed out coconut shell down on the beach. Man, Seatopians kick ass, even if I don't understand how Robert Dunham got to be their leader.

Once again, we encounter my main problem with a lot of Godzilla films. The invaders are a lot cooler than we are. I mean, the Earth is always being invaded by sexy women or those Planet X guys with the Devo suits and little curly-toed elf boots. Now it's being invaded by a bunch of beach bums. Why on earth would we go against them and fight for our right to be stressed out and led around on a string by a bunch of uptight old men when we could be ruled by sexy space girls or gay surfers? I mean, it's not like the old men who run the world have done a good job. Maybe we should give some of these other people a turn at the wheel.

So anyway, Seatopia. As is de rigeur for these movies, they have to awaken their ancient guardian by engaging in song and dance numbers, though judging by their outfits, the Seatopians are pretty down with this. It would have been good to see Robert Dunham in a fairy outfit being pulled about on a wire and harness rig, but you can't have everything in one production. See, this is what I'm talking about. The Seatopians put on a show and it's full of sexy people in little togas doing tribal dances and gyrations. We surface dwellers put on a show, and it's mother fucking Cats. Fuck you landlubbers. I'm signing up with Seatopia!

It takes a lot of shouting and dancing to wake the monster up. A lot. Not as much as it took to wake up Mothra in Godzilla Versus the Sea Monster, where they had to dance and chant for almost the entire film, but it's still a lot of work. I guess the big pay-off is a giant monster to do your bidding, so it's worth it I suppose. Megalon looks like a big stag beetle and has some of those useless arms that turn into what I guess are razor-sharp jabbing objects, but I always feel some fingers make life easier. I don't know why undersea people would own a giant beetle instead of a giant sea serpent or something, but whatever.

The two guys and their annoying kid counterpart return to "the inventor's lair," which looks a lot like "the tinkerer's lair" from Godzilla's Revenge. This is place is -- I mean -- it's ... geez. Think mad scientist meets Matt Helm. It's a space age bachelor pad royale. One of the guys has built a robotic copy of Jack Nicholson in a turtleneck sweater and named him Jet Jaguar. Now that's a chick-getter. "Come on up to my space age pad. We can spin some Arthur Lyman on the hi-fi, and I'll show you my robotic man. By the way, this is my hard-bodied little friend, Hiroshi."

Man, the two gay bachelors and Jet Jaguar. I'm all for free love and threesomes and pretty much anything else, but I don't know if I would want to swing with these cats. All things considered, you'd think they would side with Robert Dunham and his army of sparkly toga wearers.

The Seatopians feel they need Jet Jaguar for their war. So they steal and reprogram him. Now they have two weapons with which to take on the world. Somehow, I don't like Seatopia's chances in this war, but what do you expect from a bunch of underwater cross-dressing hippies?

They use Jet Jaguar to control Megalon, who makes his debut by smashing a dam. This is all it takes to rile up Godzilla, who makes a hasty advance from wherever to Japan, ready to kick a little beetle ass. But a-ha! The Seatopians have a trick up their sleeve, and it's name is Gigan. Yes, they summon up Gigan, another giant monster with no hands or fingers. The two on one odds don't look to good, but luckily our heroic trio of two lounge lizards and their scantily clad young boy are able to free Jet Jaguar from Seatopian control. Jet Jaguar suddenly gets the ability to grow giant like Zone Fighter (another robotic friend of Godzilla and a tv show that was directed by none other than Jun Fukada -- the Big G shows up in several episodes, as do Gigan and and Ghidrah), but frankly, he get sin the way far more than he helps. Jet Jaguar, Angilas, King Caesar -- Godzilla always gets saddled with some B-team chump who gets his ass kicked like Pony Boy at that big rumble in The Outsiders. Yes, truly Jet Jaguar is the Pony Boy to Godzilla's Patrick Swayze.

So the stage is set, Godzilla and Jet Jaguar versus Gigan and Megalon, two monsters who have no hands. And as a sideshow, you got the hard-body bachelors versus the tiara-and-toga wearing spies of Seatopia! Man, what a show! How can people not like this movie? Everyone wrestles and jumps and throws things. The little muscular guy gets to drive fast, and Megalon gets to toss rocks. Yeah, they may not have hands, but Gigan does have a saw in his belly, and Megalon vomits flaming rocks. That's pretty cool, but if lives underwater, it's probably not very handy. And having a buzzsaw in your stomach is cool and all, but really the most practical spot for it. In order to even use it, you have to be in a position to rub your belly against your oppoenent. Now if Gigan had buzzsaws for hands, that would be pretty useful.

Jet Jaguar, on the other hand, is pretty useless all the way around. I mean, he magically reprograms himself to grow big (the hell?), but other than that, he's nothing but a load Godzilla has to carry. Well, he does have a really cool 1970s jazzy theme song with the guy shouting "Jetu Jaguar punchu punchu punch! Kicku kicku kick!"

Godzilla does one of his all-time most famous moves, the never-ending tail-slide, in which he actually makes Jet Jaguar stand at one end of the battle field holding up the evil monster while Godzilla runs to the other end (yes, he runs), gets a lumbering start, then slides like two-hundred yards in a position perfectly parallel to the ground. He does this a couple times, and it's definitely right up there next to the "flying backwards using his atomic breath as a jet engine" trick he pulled in Godzilla Versus the Smog Monster.

From a technical standpoint, or from the vantage point of a grisled adult, this movie is awful. The special effects are weak, proving that even though Godzilla movies started out as effects innovators, they lagged way behind during the 1970s. Miniscule budgets shine through in all their cheap lack of glory. The kid is annoying and he has those disturbing shorts on. But I don't watch this movie as an adult. I watch it as a little kid sitting around on a Saturday afternoon with my friends. I watch it as someone who simply wants to laugh and enjoy a film. And in that regard, Godzilla Versus Megalon can be considered nothing but a success. Lots of monster action, lots of human action, robots, destruction, garish colors, explosions -- it ain't art, but that doesn't mean you can't come off your "these films should be treated as serious art" high horse and enjoy them for just one minute of your obsessed litle life for what they are: silly, fun bubblegum pop.

So take your serious comics, your "Batman isn't just for children," your mylar sacks and condescending attitude that berates anything not packed to the rim with state of the art computer graphics or smoking French guys talking about death. Keep your bland, soulless Matrix, your cgi, and your inability to remember what it was like to actually enjoy yourself. Keep it all, wrap yourself up in a little ball, and scoff at my low-brow stupidity while I hoot and holler and watch Godzilla Versus Megalon with nothing but the pure, unadulterated glee of a little kid.

Unfortunately, just as the fishboat seems to be really getting some momentum going--and we the viewers are starting to build up our hopes that the film will be nothing more than a couple hours of frolicking fishboat footage--the ocean begins to recede into the ground, and the seagoing practicality of the fishboat is soon put to the test. The fishboat doesn't seem to be faring too well in the struggle against the current, which is pulling it out to sea. Of course, this only makes for more exciting viewing, as the fishboat struggles desperately to tread water, peddling and paddling frantically in the now shallow waters. Luckily for the fishboat's occupant, it eventually makes it ashore, as its big round nose dramatically enters the screen frame left and the child's fathers rush in to save him from the ocean.

The trio quickly head for home, where there appears to be a large metal robot in their basement-slash-command-center. No mention is made of why there is a large metal robot in their basement, or why their basement is one huge command center, or what their huge command center commands. Presumably, the filmmakers didn't want the audience getting too far ahead of the complex plot. The only clue we have is a large diagram on the wall in the shape of the robot, with flashing lights for each part of the robot's body--including the crotch, which has a nice red flashing light (notice during one scene that the crotch light is burned out?--don't ask). It is soon revealed that one of the two men has invented this robot, whose purpose is none too clear (sex toy? janitor? landscape architect?). We even get to witness the exciting moment when the proud inventor gives his robot a name--no, not Crotchbot--Jet Jaguar. "Jet Jaguar?" you ask yourself? "Why would they name it 'Jet Jaguar' when it isn't jet-like or jaguar-like, and the name 'Crotchbot' wasn't even taken yet?" The inventor soon explains his reasoning: "Jet Jaguar, that's a good name". Can't argue with logic like that...

As soon as the would-be Crotchbot is christened Jet Jaguar, the trio are assaulted and tied up by an unknown assailant, and Jet Jaguar is hijacked and the command center commandeered. The assailants soon reveal that they are none other than representatives of the underwater kingdom of Seatopia, and they proceed to divulge all the intricate details of their plan for Earth's destruction. Apparently, their argument is that they don't like the Earth people's tendency to test nuclear weapons and wage war. And so they plan to destroy the Earth in order to end...war? Yes. But wait, it gets better: their leader is a moist middle-aged white guy with very hairy shoulders wearing a satin toga, a skirt, tights, and a tiara--we ask you, does it get any better than this? In a dramatic speech to his people, he declares that he will release "Megalon" (a power-drill-like underwater cockroach that flies, and who shoots bombs from his mouth and lasers from his tele-tubby-like antenna). Megalon is to be sent topside to spearhead Seatopia's battle to destroy Earth in the name of...peace? Yes. Once topside, Megalon is to rendezvous with Jet Jaguar and coordinate the Earth's destruction.

Though the Seatopians have control of Jet Jaguar's command center, Jet Jaguar's inventors have other plans. They are luckily able to escape from captivity, in a memorable scene where they are thrown about a mile through the air, only to land safely. They then stop by a model shop (which coincidentally has on display every model used in the production of this film) and pick up a remote control airplane. This airplane, they reason, is the perfect weapon to use against the Seatopian who has taken over control of their basement command center. Sure enough, they ring the doorbell of the command center, and when he answers, they fly that little SOB right into his face. Who would have ever guessed model airplanes could be used for such purposes? They are soon able to intercept Jet Jaguar and reprogram him to go fetch Godzilla to defend Tokyo against the Seatopian nemeses.

Jet Jaguar heads out for Monster Island (yes, really), gives some clumsy hand signals, and makes some odd noises at Godzilla; and that seems to convince Godzilla to come save Tokyo. Jet Jaguar and Godzilla, now a full-fledged crime-fighting duo, head back to Tokyo with the intent of destroying Megalon and any other Seatopian empathizers that cross their path. (Let's get this straight: Godzilla and Jet Jaguar refuse to have their war-like nation threatened by the war-faring peacemongers of Seatopia, so they declare a war on peace? Wait, no, Godzilla and Jet Jaguar want peace, so they declare a war on war? No, wait...agh, forget it.) As an added bonus, Jet Jaguar spontaneously decides to increase his size so that he is roughly that of Godzilla. He also decides that he will no longer take orders from his inventors, but rather will act on his own free will. (Note: Jet Jaguar has a habit of increasing or decreasing his size depending on whom he's standing next to, a person or a monster.)

The hairy toga greaseball czar from Seatopia, seeing that his Megalon is now outnumbered, summons Gigan to assist--Gigan, of course, being the exceptionally pointy pterodactyl-like Cyclops from outer space. And thus the epic tag-team battle begins: Jet Jaguar (now in large mode) with Godzilla vs. Megalon with Gigan.

We won't divulge the highly climactic ending for fear of ruining the shocking surprise of who wins and who loses, but suffice it to say that the Seatopians will think twice next time they decide to initiate a war for...peace? Yes.