Those who have read our other review-analyses in The Godzilla Project will know that, based on our reading of the internal logic of the previous films, we distinguished two phases. We differentiated between the inaugural moment of Godzilla, where Godzilla functions as a traumatic signifier, an invented signifier that allows audiences to give the trauma of the atomic bomb a phantasmatic signification, and the subsequent phase of secondary elaboration. This second phase, as we have argued, unfurls in three stages: an implicit nationalistic one – Godzilla as antagonist, an explicit nationalistic one – Godzilla as hero, and its ultimate unveiling as empty signifier – Godzilla’s Revenge – All Monsters Attack (1969).
The inaugural moment, as we have argued in our review of Godzilla Minus One (2023), cannot be replicated. The first time the image of the unimageable – i.e. the invisible destructive power of the atom-bomb – graced the silver screen gave the post-war subject one possible solution to deal with his free-floating discomfort in the aftermath of the end of pacific war. However, every subsequent film, functioning, by definition, within the second phase of elaboration, must take a stance with respect to one of the following signifiers: antagonist or hero. There is, however, no escaping from the truth established by Godzilla’s Revenge – All Monsters Attack (1969): that Godzilla ultimately is nothing more than is an empty signifier to be capitalized/metaphorized for consumption, ideological purposes, or for subjective facilitation.
Our short introduction allows us to introduce the questions that will guide us in our analysis of Godzilla versus Hedorah: How will Yoshimitsu Banno and Kaoru Mabuchi utilize Godzilla as signifier (General-note 1)? Will they keep Godzilla within the established confines of the implicit or explicit nationalistic discourse or can they metaphorize Godzilla beyond nationalism?
Godzilla versus Hedorah, by opening with imagery of heavy industry, nearby polluted waters, and the surfacing of a monstrous shape returns to the logic of the event, to the inauguration of the narrative by staging an effect of societal functioning that necessitates the resurfacing of Godzilla. Yoshimitsu Banno, in other words, returns to the idea that kaiju represent ‘discourses’ or ‘symbolic forces’ within the societal field, that their clash visualize a pressing societal conflict. The societal frame, as established by Banno and Mabuchi, forms the key to discern what Hedorah (Kenpachiro Satsuma) as well as Godzilla (Haruo Nakajima) signify.
However, we can only discern what the return of Godzilla signifies by analysing the signifiers of the narrative to uncover what the birth of Hedorah within the societal represents. To put it differently, what does this monster, by fracturing the supposedly harmonious societal field with its destructive presence, confront the societal Other with?
The imagery of heavy industry and heavily polluted waters by which Banno opens his narrative immediately points to the fact that truth of Hedorah’s birth – the shape that arises from the polluted waters – is linked to the environmental ravage caused by the Other – the drifting clock signals that time is up. The opening song by Miki Fujiyama (Keiko Mari), a pop-rock song protesting environmental pollution, reaffirms the association between the monstrous shape and the pollution that surrounds it.
Banno signals the blindness of the societal field to the environmental damage it produces by repeatedly contrasting images of pollution (polluted waters, the mutated fish Gohei (Yoshio Yoshida) brings to Dr. Toru Yano (Akira Yamouchi)) with moments of beauty (flowers, beautiful aquarium fish). Beauty, whether cultural or natural, covers over the destructive waste culture produces (General-note 2). Or, to put it somewhat more analytically, the Other represses the truth of the destructive waste it produces to avoid having to question the capitalistic logic that structures its societal and economic functioning.
However, such attempt at repression fails when the very waste produced by the capitalistic societal field starts to interfere with its functioning and sorts disruptive effects – e.g. the radical decrease of fish in Suruga Bay, the floor of the bay littered with gadgets and objects of consumption, the surface a greyish mixture of dead fish, trash and sludge. The appearance of the monstrous shape in Suruga Bay is, in this sense, a radicalized form of the return of the repressed, a monstrous return attacking the unwillingness of the Other to take the environment seriously and take action. His presence, by racializing the deadly consequences of pollution, forces the Other the acknowledge the ecological destructivity of its own industrial apparatus.
That Hedorah surfaces in Suruga Bay is not accidental – the repression was, in reality, also failing. The post-war industrial boom had turned the bay into a site of severe industrial pollution. 2.4 million tons of waste water from the numerous paper and pulp factories in Fuji was released in the bay everyday. 4000 tons of sulphur-laden sludge flow into Suruga Bay, destabilizing its ecological balance and men had to constantly dredge the harbour area to prevent the sludge – 3000 tons – from interfering with the industry – a depth of 9 meters was necessary for various ships to be able to pass and utilize the infrastructure (Oka, T. (n.d.)). The film is also a response to pollution-related illnesses like Minamata disease, Yokkaichi asthma, and Itai-itai disease (Ryfle and Godziszewski, 2025).
So, how can we understand the resurfacing of Godzilla? If we follow the signifiers of Ken Yano (Hiriyuki Kawase), the son of Dr. Yano, we must assume that Godzilla resurfaces because of the littering and poisoning of the sea – fallout of atomic and hydrogen bomb, sludge, sewage – by the Japanese subject angers him. Such framing implies that Godzilla, to satisfy his anger towards the Japanese Other, disregarding the ecological dimension, will attack the root of the problem: the industrial machinery that poison the sea and gave birth to Hedorah.
However, a few moments later, when Ken, after waking up from a hopeful dream, addresses his father, his signifiers imply something different – “Papa, Godzilla’s coming to save us (…) he’s gonna come and kill Hedorah”. Rather than Godzilla targeting the capitalistic source of the ecological misery, he will seek to erase the brutal manifestation of the economical disregard of the environment. Godzilla will realize himself as a force of repression that quells the monstrous return of the repressed – defeat the monstrosity born from human-made waste – and protects the capitalistic machinery and the trash it generates.
The way the Japanese subject reacts to Hedorah, this monstrous being born from the trash produced by the societal system, quickly dispels any hope that the capitalistic logic will be put into question. Ken’s proposal to his father – “Why don’t we dry it? It’s only sludge”, inscribes itself in the repressive societal logic, the childish logic of the whack-a-mole. The ultimate aim of targeting the monstrous Hedorah is the re-repression of the radicalized return of the repressed, the wiping away of the vile and poisonous shit produced by society. The underlying societal structure – the emphasis on production, consumption, and profit – remains untouched and unquestioned. Even the television broadcasts follow the logic of the wack-a-mole, focusing on defeating this monstrous threat without putting the hungry logic that enabled its birth into question.
The organisation of a Woodstock-like protest party against environmental pollution near mount Fujii seemingly aims to confront the political Other with the vile and destructive left-over the capitalistic dynamic produces and demand that this Other puts the emphasis on unrestricted production and consumption into question. However, by organizing such a party, these youths, unknowingly, heed the very demand that defines the capitalistic logic: Enjoy! It constitutes, in other words, a self-serving event without any political effect – the failure of counterculture.
Following our analysis, Godzilla Vs Hedorah appears to be a very ironic film (General-note 3). Banno, in all probability consciously, underlines that the monstrous return of the repressed is utilized by the Other to avoid the confrontation with the destructive truth of production that grounds the functioning of the capitalistic system – the film ends with the same shots of pollution the narrative opens with. The monstrous tragedy distracts from the more silent tragedies that continue to occur due to pollution within the environment and the societal field. Nothing is solved, no fiction given of a societal field that returned to its harmony.
Despite emphasizing that the threat of pollution is far from solved with his ending, Banno nevertheless offers a somewhat cynical blend between implicit and explicit nationalistic logic (General-note 2). Godzilla arises as a hero that puts the destructive truth of the capitalistic machinery and consumerism where it does not belong: under repression. To put it differently, Banno exploits the frame of the repressive hero to lament the very fact that societal field does not change.
The composition Godzilla Versus Hedorah delivers a well-balanced blend between dynamic and static shots. The interweaving of animated moments adds a stylish touch to the unfolding of the narrative and also helps at structuring the unfolding of the narrative.
Banno shows a willingness to experiment with visual pace and combining different narratives spaces and, as a result, succeeds in delivering some truly evocative sequences. Banno utilizes the first confrontation between Godzilla and Hedorah to contrast the emphasis on pleasure within the societal field – mahjong, Keiko Mari’s performance – with what that fixation on pleasure blinds the subject for: the sludge produced by consumption (Narra-note 1).
Banno combines special-effect shots and live-action shots well together (e.g. via effective composite shots) so that the spectator has no trouble believing that the Kaiju and the character inhabit the same narrative space. Teruyoshi Nakano, the special effects director, and Banno masterfully craft a sense of spatial continuity.
While we commend that Banni and Nakano for deliver lengthy kaiju-sequences with beautiful miniature landscapes, we do feel that the first sequence lack an effective dramatic flow. This sequence drags because Banno spends too much time on emphasizing the anthropomorph quality of the Kaiju – e.g. Godzilla’s taunting, or does not rely on musical accompaniment to emphasize the dramatic nature or the suspenseful quality of the clash.
However, as there is less emphasis on anthropomorphism of the kaiju in the following battle sequences and in the finale, the clashes flow better. The improved compositional flow allows the drama to exude from the imagery, from the shots as such. Banno does, as a result, not need to utilize musical accompaniment to pull the spectator into the kaiju drama.
The famous or infamous Godzilla scene will test some spectators’ suspension of disbelief – an unwanted infusion of silliness, but is, all in all, visually well done. Godzilla’s response to one’s officer complaint – “Why can’t anything be done right?”, on the other hand, introduces an unnecessary and ill-placed moment of light-hearted silliness.
However, it is evident from various elements – e.g. the use of animation-sequences, the lack of destruction and explosions – that Banno had to work around budgetary constraints and strict time-schedule. We truly believe that these challenges hindered Banno from delivering his message in the way he envisioned – Hedorah’s design is great, but he lacks a threatening quality when he adorns the screen.
With Godzilla versus Hedorah, Banno offers a Godzilla film that blends the implicit and explicit nationalistic narrative structures to deliver a clear political message concerning pollution and capitalism. Banno, despite re-emphasizing Godzilla as hero, exposes the deceit of the aforementioned narrative structures by showing, with irony, that Godzilla’s passage does not result in societal change: not even Godzilla, can rescue us from the poisonous trash we, as consumerist and industrial society produce. While Banno, in our view, made the most of opportunity to make his own Godzilla film, his attempt to bring his cinematic vision to life is nevertheless negativily impacted.
Notes
General-note 1: It is important to note that Banno got the opportunity to craft a Godzilla film, after Ishiro Honda’s retirement, under less-than-ideal circumstances. Not only was there increased economical pressure on Japan’s film studies – a fight for audiences, but Banno could not rely on special-effects master Eiji Tsuburaya, as he passed away in 1970 due to a heart attack. Moreover, he was tasked to bring his vision to life with a lower budget, a short shooting schedule, two live-action sets, no stars, and only one crew (Ryfle and Godziszewski, 2025).
General-note 2: Banno playfully evokes this repressive dynamic by letting Keiko Mari, the beautiful singing presence, detract the spectator from the waste that drifts in waters of Suruga Bay.
General-note 3: There is some thematical similarity between Godzilla versus Hedorah and Rodan (1956), a film that utilizes a mining-setting to link the opportunistic blindness of the capitalistic system to environmental destruction.
Narra-note 1: The performance by Miki Fujiyama has, within this sequence, a very ironic effect. She laments the Other for polluting the seas and the sky by providing musical pleasure to the masses and by highlighting, in a rather indirect way, her own lack of action.
Citations:
Oka, T. (n.d.). Japan urged to Save Polluted Harbor (published 1970). NYtimes. https://www.nytimes.com/1970/08/17/archives/japan-urged-to-save-polluted-harbor.html
Ryfle, R. and Godziszewski, E. (2025). Godzilla: The First 70 years. Abrams: New York