The currently available English-dub print of this film is a frightfully hash-re-edit from UPA, released to TV syndication in 1978. I hope this is not the best surviving print of the film, but it very well may be. It is transferred in grainy pan-and-scan, and there are obvious bits and pieces missing from it - it is certainly possible to follow the story, but not always possible to follow the action. For instance, there's a moment towards the end when Godzilla is knocked over by a blast of Mechagodzilla's light ray; then suddenly, he's up and swinging, and Mecha-G is sparking from a short-circuit - what happened? We may never know.
Quality of surviving prints aside, this is Ishiro Honda's final attempt to remind Godzilla-fans what the series was originally intended to be about. The opening soundtrack is amazing - it begins with a martial snare tattoo; then Akira Ifukube introduces the darkest, most menacing Godzilla music he ever composed - it's really a shame that his "Mechagodzilla theme" was never re-introduced to the later revival-Godzilla films of the 1990s. It is brooding and downright scary without any images - but it enhances some of the stark images of the film very well.
These images include the most frightening moment of Tokyo-destruction ever seen in a Godzilla film, when Mecha-G and Titanosaurus march on the Japanese capitol with a sadistic joy rarely exhibited by rubber monsters from Toho. Although the scene is relatively brief, it leaves a huge impact - The cinematography captures the essence of US military documentary footage of experimental nuclear bomb tests - truly frightening. Also, there are some quirky back-screen shots of the monsters wading through the city that manage to capture how insignificant their human victims are to such gigantic creatures - the over-all effect proves to be every bit as scary as Honda must have wished.
The opening martial tattoo on the snare tells us what this film is really about - it is a puppet-show metaphor for war, in all its hideously dehumanizing violence.
Towards the end, a scientist holds in his arms the dying form of the woman with whom he fell in love, robotized and short-circuited like the Mecha-G. she was used to control, and reassures her(it): "...even if you're a cyborg, I still love you; none of this is your fault - you aren't to blame.' The epitaph of a good chunk of the 20th Century - thank god it's over. The only weird thing is, we survived.
Or, perhaps we didn't; it is Godzilla who wades through this film unscathed. Perhaps only the monsters inherit the earth.
Quality of surviving prints aside, this is Ishiro Honda's final attempt to remind Godzilla-fans what the series was originally intended to be about. The opening soundtrack is amazing - it begins with a martial snare tattoo; then Akira Ifukube introduces the darkest, most menacing Godzilla music he ever composed - it's really a shame that his "Mechagodzilla theme" was never re-introduced to the later revival-Godzilla films of the 1990s. It is brooding and downright scary without any images - but it enhances some of the stark images of the film very well.
These images include the most frightening moment of Tokyo-destruction ever seen in a Godzilla film, when Mecha-G and Titanosaurus march on the Japanese capitol with a sadistic joy rarely exhibited by rubber monsters from Toho. Although the scene is relatively brief, it leaves a huge impact - The cinematography captures the essence of US military documentary footage of experimental nuclear bomb tests - truly frightening. Also, there are some quirky back-screen shots of the monsters wading through the city that manage to capture how insignificant their human victims are to such gigantic creatures - the over-all effect proves to be every bit as scary as Honda must have wished.
The opening martial tattoo on the snare tells us what this film is really about - it is a puppet-show metaphor for war, in all its hideously dehumanizing violence.
Towards the end, a scientist holds in his arms the dying form of the woman with whom he fell in love, robotized and short-circuited like the Mecha-G. she was used to control, and reassures her(it): "...even if you're a cyborg, I still love you; none of this is your fault - you aren't to blame.' The epitaph of a good chunk of the 20th Century - thank god it's over. The only weird thing is, we survived.
Or, perhaps we didn't; it is Godzilla who wades through this film unscathed. Perhaps only the monsters inherit the earth.