Japan has been forced to abandon nuclear energy, for fear of drawing the monster back to the mainland. Even plasma energy, a supposedly "clean" energy source, attracts Godzilla's attention. In an effort to rid Japan of the monster, the Japanese government establishes a counter-G task force, the "G-Graspers." Their leader is the determined Kiriko Tsujimori (the stern but pretty Misato Tanaka). She has a very personal reason for fighting Godzilla: Her commanding officer died while saving her life from the monster.

Japan's newest weapon is the Dimension Tide, an artificial black hole fired from an orbiting satellite. The G-Graspers are determined to erase Godzilla from existence. They test the weapon and unwittingly release strange creatures from a rift in the space / time continuum: Meganeuron, a giant prehistoric dragonfly. The larvae of these creatures breed in the sewers of Tokyo, flooding much of the city. The mature dragonflies swarm Godzilla. They siphon enough of his energy to feed their growing queen, Megaguirus. Now, the G-Graspers rush to perfect the Dimension Tide as Godzilla and Megaguirus battle for dominance.

Godzilla vs. Megaguirus (GxM for short) is an odd combination of high-tech and 1970s-style camp. The special effects are a mixed bag. While the CGI and compositing are generally improved over the previous year's Godzilla 2000, the monsters are filmed in such a way that Godzilla and Megaguirus look just like a guy in a rubber suit and a puppet, respectively (which they are). The human characters are a "who's who" of sci-fi clichés: The embittered warrior-with-a-grudge, the cocky young genius, the corrupt bureaucrat, the "Kenny," and not one, but two wise old scientists-who-know-all.

Despite all that, GxM still manages to be a solid Godzilla movie. There are some great scenes, including Kiriko "surfing" on Godzilla's back, and Godzilla battling the Meganeura swarm. (Meganeura was a real prehistoric insect that also appeared in Toho's 1956 classic Rodan.) It's directed with a lot of energy and enthusiasm by first-timer Masaaki Tezuka. Megaguirus is an interesting opponent. Her speed makes it easy to dodge Godzilla's attacks. He must actually think and strategize; he can't simply overpower the flying insect. The film also benefits from an excellent score by Michiru Oshima (the first woman to score a G-film). The score is rousing and powerful, in the spirit of Akira Ifukube's classic scores. All in all, this is a flawed but entertaining movie. Grade: B

Unfortunately, Godzilla's triumphant return to its Japanese roots was a middling affair hampered by a lackluster script, bland human characters, an even blander monster foe, and a dwindling budget. While not necessarily a bad film, it was not the type of thing that could compete with the likes of the recent Gamera series, which set the bar exceptionally high for special effects, story, and characters - and did it for less money. Toho, it seemed, was becoming a cranky old man out of touch with modern fans, unwilling to try anything different, and at times downright hostile to those who would otherwise be supporting them. While Daei Studios rushed to release all the Gamera films both new and old onto DVD, Toho played the stubborn Luddite and refused to put much faith in the new medium, allowing scarcely a trickle of Godzilla's back catalog to get the digital treatment. Fans both in Japan and overseas - a population Toho has never given a damn about in the first place - were even further alienated from the proprietors of their beloved atomic powered behemoth.

When 2001 rolled around, Toho rolled out another Godzilla film, Godzilla vs. Megaguiras. The budget was still small, and Toho still seemed to regard their once-mighty franchise with more contempt than support, but even a bad Japanese Godzilla film is still a better time at the movies than a good Meg Ryan romantic comedy or any of those movies where a sincere outsider teaches us the beauty of the human soul while lots of people "smile through their tears" as that emotional "revelation" type orchestration plays. You know the movies I'm talking about.

Godzilla vs. Megaguiras is, in many ways, a return to the wacky spirit of the 1970s Godzilla films. After the relatively dark and somber-colored Godzilla 2000, Godzilla vs. Megaguiras goes for a more vibrant and rich approach, resulting in the revitalization of that comic book feel that permeated so many of Godzilla's adventures a couple decades ago. While certain key aspects are lacking - specifically the cool human characters and the funky action music - it's still a step back in the direction of entertaining audiences after the relatively drab outing that was Godzilla 2000.

But it ain't all wine and roses. Toho has become addicted to stories that immediately establish that none of the other movies ever happened, and this is an entirely new timeline. That's okay once, but they're pressing the reset button after every film now, and that smacks of desperation. For you wrestling fans out there, think of how many times WCW did the exact same thing, ushered in "a brand new era," in the year leading up to them just going belly up. It betrays the lack of faith Toho has in their own films, not to mention the ability of their script writers to pay attention to continuity - at least as much as Godzilla films have ever worried about such things. It's like saying all the previous films were so lackluster, or that the current writers are so unimaginative, that the best thing to do is ignore history completely. Why even bother then? It's not like Godzilla fans are Star Trek fans, people who will boycott an entire series because a character says an alien race came from Delos VII when it was stated twenty-two years earlier in some Trek novel that these aliens came from Delos V. As long as there are some tenuous links, we're happy.

In the timeline of this Godzilla series, which is apparently going to last one movie and probably be reset again, Godzilla has attacked only a handful of times. There was the first time back in the 1950s - depicted in black and white recreations of scenes from the original movie, but featuring the new monster design. Then there were a couple other attacks that resulted in the capitol of Japan being moved from Tokyo to Osaka. It might be a good idea to move your capitol inland, especially when said capitols have a tendency to get soundly trounced by a giant monster who lives just off the coast of your nation. At least make him hike a little rather than simply being ale to swim right up and blast things with no real effort.

Godzilla's history is recounted through us via one of those newsreel type things that went out of fashion round about the end of World War II, but apparently in this alternate reality, Japan still loves them. There is some cool recreation of a couple famous scenes from the original Godzilla so that we can see familiar destruction with the new monster design.

Each of Godzilla's attacks have come at key moments in the development of the Japanese energy policy. He shows up to smash nuclear power plants, so those are banned in favor of plasma generators. When those too attract Godzilla's attention, they are banned as well, so I guess Japan then converts entirely to a power system based on hamsters running on treadmills. The movie proper opens during Godzilla's final attack on some plasma generators before they are banned, and we meet a group of very stupid special-forces operatives who attempt to combat Godzilla with the use of bazookas. Missiles and tanks leave nary a scratch on the beast, but these guys are going after him with handheld rocket launchers. What's next? Pistols at twenty paces? Stepping into his path and doing that thing where you flip open and shut your butterfly knife to show what a bad-ass you are? Well, the team calls themselves the "G-Graspers," so we have to assume their initial plan was to simply walk out and grasp Godzilla as a way of defeating him. You know, grab it by the shoulder and sternly admonish the monster with a "Look what you did!" Could be worse, I suppose. At least they're not the G-Gropers or the G-Goosers.

Not especially amused with the antics of the ground forces, Godzilla simply squashes most of them, leaving only one survivor, a young woman named Kiriko. Naturally, she swears revenge on Godzilla for killing all her comrades, but stops short of shaking her fist at the monster. At least it gives Kiriko some sense of motivation. Godzilla 2000 had that businessman looking scientist determined to kill Godzilla, but he had no real back story, no motivation to give some sense of depth to his character. Kiriko's story may be cliché, but at least it's there.

Skip ahead a few years, and just when Japan thinks they have everything solved and are on a clean energy source that Godzilla won't feel the need to come push over, their old nemesis shows up yet again. After enlisting the aid of the standard-issue scruffy young computer genius, the G-Grasper team devises a plan that is as idiotic as just about every other plan devised to kill Godzilla. They have developed a weapon that actually shoots man-made black holes! Hit Godzilla with one of those suckers, and even it won't be able to escape the gravitational pull. Once Godzilla is sucked in, the black hole will dissipate, leaving only a very large portion of land completely charred and ruined. The black hole idea sounds pretty daft at first, but weirdly enough there are scientists (up at MIT I believe) working on this very idea. Well, on manmade black holes; not necessarily a gun to shoot them at large monsters.

The team tests their new weapon -- one that could potentially rupture the entire fabric of space-time and send the whole solar system plunging into oblivion - about a hundred yards from a heavily populated area. Frankly, as an inhabitant of Earth, I'm not so wild about the Japanese shooting black holes around just to kill Godzilla. I'm not wild about a bunch of crackpots up at MIT doing it either. It seems the sort of thing that could go horribly wrong and destroy the entire world. It would be nice if they consulted with other countries first, or maybe thought up a different plan, like using bigger missiles than those piddly little things they usually lob at Godzilla. You know, something smaller than an atom bomb but larger than those skinny little frog stickers launched by two F-14 fighters. Why not try, I don't know, fifty fighters and a few bombers dropping those 5,000 pound bunker busters? I mean, I don't go out and attempt to solve every little problem I have by creating black holes and jeopardizing the very structure of existence. I'm just saying maybe they should try something a little more conventional before they go shooting black holes at everything.

With the potential to destroy the entire solar system in their hands, I guess it really doesn't matter that the G-Graspers decide to test the weapon scant yards from a suburb, with little more than a unkempt hedge as a security perimeter. On top of that, they apparently decide the best target is a school building, which it seems is still in use since we soon meet a young lad walking to the school to return a bug collection he borrowed. You'd think they would do this sort of thing on an island or something away from the people. Everyone's probably going to be pissed that not only did the G-Graspers test a potentially catastrophic weapon in the middle of a heavily populated area, they also sucked the local school into the nether regions of reality.

As is par for the course in most Japanese monster films, the little kid manages to breach the tight security of the test site, foiling the whole two or three guards scattered throughout what must be several miles of woods. After they shoot off their little gun and he sees it, Kiriko catches him and makes him promise not to tell anyone he's just seen the government shooting black holes into the local school. Man alive, I thought American security at our nuclear research centers was bad! The kid witnesses one of the most top-secret super-ultra tests ever to be performed a hundred yards from a heavily populated suburb, and when he's caught they make him promise not to tell? Boy howdy, did Wen-ho Lee ever get the shaft!

The test goes remarkably well despite having been infiltrated by a pre-teen, up until the distortions in space-time start happening. Even that isn't of great concern to them, but when a small dragonfly darts into the field of distortion, things start to get complicated. The bug begins to mutate and multiply. Why? Because it's a Godzilla film. It also starts to get really big. Meanwhile, a shady scientist has secretly been storing some plasma energy, you know, just in case. Just in case what? Just in case Godzilla detects it? That better be the case, because that's exactly what happens. You can't hide Scooby Snacks from Shaggy, and you can't hide volatile sources of energy from Godzilla. You might not be able to hide Scooby Snacks from Godzilla, either, but I've never seen anything on screen to confirm or deny it, so let's just leave it in the realm of potential fan fiction ideas.

While the G-Graspers rush to get their weapon launched into space so it can target Godzilla, Tokyo finds itself under attack from the swarm of mutant bugs, who are laying eggs in the sewer system and causing the vibrant youth-oriented neighborhood of Shibuya to flood. They're also sucking precious bodily fluids out of people, but that's hardly as big a problem as ruining the Tower Records and chasing away all those looney club kids making the scene. Upset by the flooding of the vibrant entertainment and consumer district, yet no doubt happy about all the soaking wet kogals running into their waiting arms, the Japanese military immediately deploys a crack team of uniformed operatives to tool about in little rubber dinghies.

No one seems all that surprised to find out that it's that damn kid's fault for bringing an egg with him from the countryside when he and his mom moved to Tokyo, then just going and dumping it in the sewer. Despite the fact that this kid has actually caused as much damage to Tokyo as Godzilla, everyone seems happy to just pat him on the head and go, "Get on outta here, ya little scamp!" as if flooding Tokyo and causing billions of dollars of damage was about as serious as the time Spanky was trying to scare Buckwheat and accidentally freed a gorilla from the local zoo. This kid really needs to be chased by those monkey-faced space agents from Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla.

The first chance to use the black hole gun, or Dimension Tide as they call it, comes when Godzilla wanders up onto the beach of a sparsely populated island. Unfortunately, the bugs show up as well, fouling up the targeting computer and generally annoying the hell out of Godzilla as they poke him with their stinger and suck energy out of his body. Dimension Tide fails to hit its mark, and eventually Godzilla just heads back into the water. Luckily, they can track him since, in one of the movie's cooler scenes, Kiriko actually scales his back while they are in the ocean and plants a tracking device on him. Unfortunately, Godzilla decides a more populated area would be fun to visit, and you don't really need a tracking device to tell you when Godzilla has entered Tokyo.

As you would expect, a big bug shows up, the Megaguiras, and has to fight with Godzilla. Godzilla wants that plasma energy, and Megaguiras wants that Godzilla energy. Well, whatever, so long as it gets our pals together for a couple big battles while the G-Graspers ho and hum and try to target their little black hole gun. You should pretty much know the drill from here on out.

All in all, Godzilla vs. Megaguiras is a fun film, certainly a more interesting adventure than the previous Godzilla 2000. I compared it to the films of the 1970s, which of course would make some people groan. I, on the other hand, always loved how full of action, hijinks, and color they were. This movie is a return to that sort of action-adventure spirit. Godzilla is still a menace, but at the same time it's given more of a character than it has shown in most of the more recent films. It even breaks out the classic "Godzilla move that makes you groan with laughter" tradition when Godzilla delivers a flying body press to Megaguiras. There's a lot of monster wrestling in here, just like the good ol' days. The 1990s "heisei" series relied far too much on "beam weapon" warfare, resulting in Godzilla and his foe standing at opposite ends of the screen shooting pretty lights at each other. This time around, we get down and dirty with some solid, old school grappling, and that's a big plus in my book.

Also a big plus is the latest Godzilla design. He looks boss, not to mention bad-ass. Very ferocious-looking. Now if we can just avoid the seemingly inevitable urge on Toho's part to inject a cutesy super-deformed baby Godzilla into later films. While Godzilla may look sharper than ever, the same can't be said for Megaguiras. On the surface, there's nothing overly wrong with the monster design. It's okay looking, based loosely on the Megaguiron from the original Rodan. But it lacks any real character, as all big monsters tend to. Megaguiras is an improvement over Orga from Godzilla 2000, but there's still no real depth to the monster that makes it memorable. I keep hoping for a new Ghidrah (instead of them just always falling back on Ghidrah when all else fails - he's the Borg of the Godzilla universe), or even a new Gigan, but all I get is a bunch of Gimantises and Spigas.

Adding to Megaguiras' lack of any real appeal is the fact that after all these years, Toho is no better in 2001 than they were in the 1960s at making a believable flying monster. Sure, they're okay when they are gliding or just lounging about, but the minute those huge wings start shakily flapping at a rate of about one flap every thirty seconds, things start to look silly, even for a Godzilla film. Megaguiras is actually a couple steps back in this regard, and there are several times when he just seems to be hanging there, motionless in the air, not moving his wings even a lick. It's just lazy looking. I know it's a giant dragonfly, and dragonflies can hover like the dickens, but in doing so they flap their wings about a hundred thousand times a second (don't quote me on that). Megaguiras goes for the more laid back "a couple times every few minutes" approach to hovering.

Confounding this is the fact that from time to time, they throw in some computer animation to give Megaguiras super-fast and realistically beating wings. This is his special attack, allowing him to dart to and fro just like a tinier dragonfly, but it looks great, reflects nature, and should have been the rule rather than the exception. I guess a taste of an advance in Toho flying technology is better than nothing at all, but a boy can dream, can't he? The worst part is how Megaguiras can somehow fly right and left without moving his wings at all, topped only by the scene where Godzilla catches Megaguiras' tail, thus causing the big bug to completely freeze in mid-air. Maybe shooting all those black holes around did more damage to the local gravity than people thought.

Speaking of computer animation, like Godzilla 2000, this movie relies on it heavily, at least relative to Godzilla films. The CGI in Godzilla 2000 was pretty bad, especially in the case of the UFO and a few other key parts. Toho may not be ILM yet, but they certainly learned something between films. For the most part, the CGI on display avoids being embarrassing. There are a few weak moments, specifically some very slow-moving and video game looking fighter jets. One of the great mysteries of the world is why people would develop multi-processor supercomputers and $10,000 a user software packages, then devote days upon days of time for some computer programmer to painstakingly render in CGI a series of effects that are nearly as believable as what Eiji Tsubaraya did with models back in the 1960s.

There's also a weird slo-mo effect that looks like that "step by step" sort of slo-mo you get on consumer VCRs rather than actual slow motion. Other than a few weak spots, though, the CGI is pulled off well, which is fitting for a movie that, other than a few weak spots, is itself pulled off pretty well. Sure there is an annoying kid, but he's not that annoying - unless you happen to work in the Akihabara district, that is. The other characters are bland but inoffensive. Kiriko at least has some character, but everyone else is pretty much there to fulfill a stereotype. The sloppy young computer genius. The dastardly old scientist. The benevolent old scientist. The nameless military guy who barks orders into a walkie-talkie for the entire film - you know the cast. I really hope that future Godzilla films continue to rediscover the influences of the previous films and give us some cool characters. Not since the 1970s have we had any human characters worth talking about. There have been no Nick Adamses or Akira Takarada's. There hasn't even been anyone to match the ambiguously gay suaveness of those two guys from Godzilla vs. Megalon or the hippy, karate girl,a nd cartoonish from Godzilla vs. Gigan. There certainly haven't been any Robert Dunhams or Kumi Mizunos. We've had a fairly bland parade of pretty but uninteresting human characters who neither add nor detract from the film around them, which is a shame. Sure, there was Miki the psychic girl in all the "heisei" films, but she wasn't really interesting. She was just driven into our memory through repetition. I'd like to see subsequent films give us a cool cast again.

Okay, so we did have that M-11 android in Godzilla vs. King Ghidrah.

Plotwise, it's business as usual. Toho definitely has the scriptwriters on cruise control here. Characters are, as I said, flat, and there's no real underlying message here other than the usual Godzilla fare of "don't ruin the planet," which is a given. At least the characters this time around are given some sort of motivation, lifting them beyond the characters from the last film, but there's still not a whole lot going on int he plot department -- not that this is a bad thing. Not every movie can be as multi-layered as Citizen Kane or as complex and plot-heavy as, say, Girls Gone Wild: Sexy Sorority Sweethearts, and while Godzilla vs. Megaguiras takes a very straight-forward approach to the plot, it is at least well-paced and exciting, lacking any of the dull, dragging spots that marred Godzilla 2000.

The final scorecard sees Godzilla vs. Megaguiras skewed heavily toward the positive side, however. It's not a work of art, but it's a solid, action-packed monster fest that delivers with gusto and spirit that help elevate it above the obvious short-comings in budget and script. Godzilla 2000 wasn't exactly a misstep, but this film is certainly a step in a slightly different, and in my opinion, more enjoyable direction.

Each of these series is basically defined by unbroken production schedule, with hiatuses after 1974 and 1995. They also have thematic consistencies. The Showa series starts out seriously then becomes sillier and more obsessed with alien invasions as it goes along. The Heisei series starts out with the relatively serious Godzilla (1984) and Godzilla vs. Biollante, and then morphs into comic book styled adventures. The Millennium series starts with a pretty serious film, but the next film, saddled with the unwieldy and confusing title of Godzilla X Megaguirus: G-Eradication Operation, is a throwback to earlier films in many ways. That by itself is not a bad thing, but this movie isn't a step forward in the ways that it really should be.

The opening scenes are promising. A newsreel informs us of the divergent history of Japan caused by Godzilla's occasional raids on Japan. The events depicted here establish that this movie is not a direct sequel to Godzilla 2000, but rather set in a alternate universe where Godzilla forced the capital of Japan to move to Osaka, and the country's power is mostly provided by natural sources in order to avoid Godzilla's wrath.

In 1996, after thirty years of trying to run the country on wind and sunlight, the Japanese government endows an institute to study sources of "clean energy." The result is the plasma energy generator, which, we are told, runs on neutrons. It may as well have also been installed with a giant blinking neon sign that says "Stomp Me to Dust" because Godzilla shows up in Osaka quicker than Britney Spears at a tank top sale.

In the thirty years since Godzilla's last attack Japan has put some thought into what to do if Godzilla shows up again. They even have a special corps that responds to Godzilla's presence. Sadly, this special corps is clearly out of their depth. First of all, these guys (and girls) have no Super-X, no maser trucks -- hell, they don't even have regular old tanks. They're just running around on foot with personal missile launchers. Their first strategy is to shoot Godzilla in the ankles, which doesn't seem to very likely to kill Godzilla, but it pisses him off real good. As you might guess, Godzilla destroys the clean energy plant, and kills most of the special corps. One of the few soldiers left alive is Kiriko Tsujimori (Misato Tanaka), who watched her commanding officer die in a rain of building rubble.

Five years later, Kiriko is the commander of G-Grasper, a force with more advanced technology which is determined to end the threat of Godzilla. This is one of the least believable things about the film. Don't get us wrong, we have no problem believing a woman could be a military commander, especially of an anti-Godzilla force. Having a little something dangling between your legs isn't going to mean crap to Godzilla. But Misato Tanaka is just about the cutest, most willowy actress they could find. She doesn't look like someone whose spent a long time in the military. She looks like someone who might try to have breakfast at Tiffany's. When she wears a helmet she looks like a super-deformed (squat and cutesy, like many Japanese cartoons) version of herself.

Kiriko shows up at the electronics shop run by Kudo. Kudo impresses the local kids with a little conjuring trick where he turns the raw materials for curry rice into curry rice just by putting a bowl over them for five seconds. But Kiriko shows the kids that it was actually done with a special microwave bowl and three little robots hiding in it. Normal kids would have been like, "cool, robots!" But these kids are unimpressed that Kudo can't do actual magic and leave the shop. Kiriko then takes Kudo to the G-Grasper headquarters.

Kudo used to study under Prof. Yoshizawa (Yuriko Hoshi), but was disgraced and left her institute. When Godzilla attacked in 1996 all of the professor's colleagues were killed, so now she asks for Kudo's help with her new invention. Working with G-Grasper, she has come up with a perfectly reasonable plan to kill Godzilla with a weapon that will create an artificial black hole. And if that isn't insane enough, Yoshizawa wants to install the weapon on a satellite and fire the black hole at Godzilla from space. Gee, how could anything go wrong? For a follow-up we're pretty sure she's going to try to tug on Superman's cape and mess around with Jimmy Olsen.

Actually, G-Grasper's follow-up is to test a ground-based version of the weapon in a not-so-remote area. It's supposed to be a top secret test of a weapon that could destroy the world, but G-Grasper fires it at an abandoned building that is within easy walking distance of some inhabited apartments. Even so, the test goes forward and the abandoned building is destroyed but good.

G-Grasper guy: That went well.

Guy in suit: Yes. It's a success.

In this case success is defined as opening a hole to a hell dimension and letting giant insects (based vaguely on the giant bugs form Rodan) through, because that's exactly what happens. In a dismaying turn of events, the only person who knows about the insects at first is a little boy named Kouchi (in Japanese, its pronounced "Kenny"), who also just happened to witness the weapons test. Yes, Kouchi managed to wander on to a top-secret site. This begs a couple questions: Did the Japanese government give the job of protecting this site to the same people who keep the Joker in Arkham Asylum? And why keep it top secret anyway? It's not as if Godzilla reads the papers.

Later, Kouchi finds a giant egg after seeing a giant bug fly by, and because he is a 10-year-old kid trying to forward the plot of a giant monster movie, he drops it in the Tokyo sewer system. In no time flat Alien-esque insects are mutilating helpless tourists. (In Florida, we call this "Tuesday.") Meanwhile, Kouchi sits around his apartment and watches the giant insects fly around the city, though no one else seems to notice.

Trying to kill some time and spend some excess money, G-Grasper comes up with an insane plan. Seeing from satellite reconnaissance that Godzilla is firing his heat ray at something, they go to investigate in the Griffin, a slightly souped-up plane. At this point we really began to wonder about G-Grasper. These guys are like the Science Patrol on Ultraman, only one of their members doesn't turn into a giant alien that likes to wrestle. (In our eyes, this lack of such a member seriously compromises G-Grasper's level of coolness.) They've got a plane that can take off vertically, and that's about it. And we know from watching Godzilla movies, Ultraman episodes, and anime like Fight, Iczer One! that super-weapons, no matter how seemingly invincible, are doomed to be destroyed by the monster. Why does G-Grasper bother? The comfy chair would probably be more effective against Godzilla.

The only thing that saves G-Grasper's pitiful collective behind is that the giant bugs, now called Meganuron, are attacking Godzilla on a regular basis. On a remote island (not a Kenny in sight) Godzilla battles a whole swarm of the little buggers. The scene is quite reminiscent of ones in Gamera 2 and Godzilla vs. Destoroyah. And that's pretty much the story of this movie. Nearly every scene seems like leftovers from some better film. There are some pretty impressive special effects this time around, but nothing groundbreaking.

The finale takes place in a submerged Japanese city. All the Meganuron somehow transform into one giant insect called Megaguirus, and the real monster rumble starts. Again, there are some impressive effects here, but there are some boners too. For a giant dragonfly, Megaguirus sure doesn't seem to have to flap his wings very much. This seems to be a trait left over from the elegant Mothra, but on a scary monster like Megaguirus it looks fake. Furthermore, some of the flying composite shots look like Terry Gilliam animated them circa 1974.

Some disturbing hints of monster humor creep into the mix. At one point Megaguirus seems to try to do a Three Stooges on Godzilla. Godzilla responds by planting Megaguirus in the ground by his tail and then jumping in the air to get some Jordan hang time and sumo splat on top of him. It isn't Godzilla's finest hour.

If we had to say something nice about this film, we would mention that the music is pretty good, probably the best non-Ifukube (who wrote the original Godzilla theme) score yet. Of course, they revert to the master for the scene in which Godzilla emerges from the water to fight Megaguirus.

It looks like this film is the end of the line for the "Millennium" series of Godzilla films. (Though watch after the credits to see evidence that it isn't the end of Godzilla.) The next Godzilla film, which premieres in Japan as we write this, was directed by Shusuke Kaneko of Gamera, Guardian of the Universe fame. The new film looks like a throwback to the Godzilla films of the 1960s, with lots of monsters and a mystical bent. We wish Kaneko luck, but considering that his version of Godzilla will follow a film made up of almost entirely tired elements, he probably won't need it.