GODZILLA RULES! His Best Battles!

What can you say about Godzilla? He's the King of the Monsters, one of the greatest characters ever created, and quite possibly the only movie star who can destroy an entire city, incinerate thousands of people, stomp on a bunch of buildings, and still have audiences cheering for him.

I absolutely love Godzilla. Always have, always will. I've been watching these movies since I was a little kid, and whether we're talking about a genuinely terrifying masterpiece or a completely ridiculous production featuring two guys in rubber suits beating the hell out of each other on a cheap soundstage, I'm there. I love every single second of it.

Godzilla first appeared in 1954 in the legendary Japanese film Gojira, directed by the great Ishirō Honda, and it remains, in my opinion, the best Godzilla movie ever made. It's also one of the most important science-fiction and horror films in cinema history.

The original Godzilla wasn't some lovable monster who showed up to save humanity from a three-headed space dragon. He was a terrifying, unstoppable force of destruction, a living representation of the horrors of nuclear warfare and the devastation Japan had experienced with the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

The film was released less than a decade after those bombings, and its images of burning cities, terrified civilians and unimaginable destruction were anything but accidental. It's a dark, serious, deeply disturbing movie that uses a giant radioactive monster to confront some very real national trauma.

The character was created by producer Tomoyuki Tanaka, with Honda and special-effects genius Eiji Tsuburaya helping bring him to life. The name Gojira combines the Japanese words for gorilla and whale, which is certainly an interesting combination when you consider that the finished creature looks like neither.

Godzilla's design drew inspiration from dinosaurs, alligators and other prehistoric creatures, with those enormous dorsal plates, that massive tail and, of course, his signature atomic breath.

Even the texture of his skin was inspired by the scars suffered by atomic-bomb survivors. Everything about the original creature was designed to be frightening, and it worked beautifully.

And then there's that roar. My God, that roar! One of the most recognizable sounds in movie history, created by composer Akira Ifukube using a resin-coated glove rubbed along the strings of a contrabass, with the recording manipulated to produce that extraordinary, otherworldly sound.

Ifukube also composed that magnificent Godzilla theme, one of the greatest and most instantly recognizable pieces of movie music ever written. You hear those opening notes, followed by that unmistakable roar, and you know exactly what's coming. Something enormous is about to step on something expensive.

Of course, Godzilla didn't remain a terrifying symbol of nuclear destruction forever. As the movies became increasingly popular, the character evolved, sometimes into an antihero, sometimes into a full-fledged defender of humanity, and occasionally into something resembling a giant radioactive professional wrestler.

The films became more colorful, more outrageous, more kid-friendly and, in many cases, considerably sillier. But you know what? I loved that version of Godzilla, too.

In fact, it's the version I grew up with, and I have some incredibly fond memories of watching those movies.

One of my favorite childhood memories involves sitting in the kitchen of my Aunt Josephine's apartment on a Saturday afternoon, watching Godzilla movies on her little black-and-white television while she made homemade pasta and sausage.

Think about that for a second. The smell of Italian cooking filling the apartment, my aunt working away in the kitchen, and me sitting there completely mesmerized by a giant Japanese monster destroying Tokyo or fighting another giant Japanese monster.

That's pretty much a perfect Saturday afternoon as far as I'm concerned. I can still picture that little television, and I can practically smell the sausage cooking. Those memories are permanently connected to Godzilla for me, and they always will be.

And it wasn't just Aunt Josephine's kitchen. Godzilla movies were everywhere when I was growing up. They were on Creature Features, they were on late-night television, they were on Saturday afternoons, and, of course, they were shown by Svengoolie.

If there was a Godzilla movie playing anywhere, I wanted to watch it. I also remember going to neighborhood movie theaters with my friends for those glorious Saturday matinee triple features.

We'd sit there for six hours, sometimes longer, watching one Godzilla movie after another, eating popcorn and candy while enormous monsters punched, kicked, wrestled and body-slammed each other through miniature cities. It was heaven. Absolute heaven.

And here's the thing about those older movies, particularly the ones from the 1960s and early '70s: a lot of them were completely ridiculous. I mean, spectacularly ridiculous.

You had Japanese stunt performers wearing enormous rubber monster costumes, throwing punches, performing karate moves, wrestling each other to the ground and smashing through miniature buildings that occasionally looked like they had been constructed in somebody's garage.

There were fake mountains, fake volcanoes, fake bridges, fake military bases and entire miniature cities waiting to be demolished. Sometimes the effects were genuinely impressive, and sometimes you could practically see the cardboard bending. Did I care? Not for one second.

In fact, that's part of the magic. I love practical effects, and there's something wonderful about watching a real performer inside a monster suit interacting with physical miniature sets.

Haruo Nakajima, who played Godzilla from 1954 through 1972, was an extraordinary performer who brought personality, physicality and even emotion to a character whose face was essentially a giant rubber mask.

Those costumes were unbelievably heavy, incredibly hot and difficult to maneuver in, and the performers worked their asses off bringing these creatures to life. The craftsmanship involved in some of those movies was remarkable, even when the finished product looked wonderfully goofy.

And when Godzilla started performing wrestling moves on other monsters, well, how could you possibly resist?

As the series continued, Godzilla developed an extraordinary collection of enemies, allies and occasional tag-team partners, and some of these creatures are among the strangest and most imaginative monsters ever created.

There's King Ghidorah, Godzilla's great archenemy, a gigantic three-headed space dragon who shoots gravity beams from his mouths.

There's Mothra, an enormous moth who begins life as a giant caterpillar and has somehow become one of the most beloved monsters in the entire franchise.

There's Mechagodzilla, a giant robotic version of Godzilla, because apparently somebody decided that an enormous radioactive dinosaur wasn't enough and what we really needed was a mechanical one.

And that's just the beginning.

There's Anguirus, the spiky, dinosaur-like creature who became Godzilla's first monster opponent in 1955's Godzilla Raids Again.

There's Rodan, the gigantic flying reptile; Gigan, the bizarre cyborg monster with hooks for hands and a buzz saw in his chest; Hedorah, the Smog Monster; Megalon, with his enormous drill-like hands; and Jet Jaguar, a ridiculous humanoid robot who looks like he wandered in from an entirely different movie.

We've also got King Caesar, Baragon, Orga, SpaceGodzilla and Destoroyah, a horrifying crustacean-like creature that looks like somebody's worst seafood nightmare. And let's not forget Minilla, Godzilla's little son, who is simultaneously adorable, irritating and one of the strangest-looking creatures ever committed to film.

Oh, and King Kong got involved, too. Because naturally, if you've got two of the most famous giant monsters in movie history, eventually somebody is going to figure out that audiences will pay money to watch them beat the crap out of each other.

King Kong vs. Godzilla arrived in 1962, and the two have been renewing their rivalry in the modern American movies. It's one of the great monster-movie matchups, even if the original film occasionally looks like two enormous Halloween costumes wrestling in somebody's backyard.

That's another thing I love about these movies: you never know exactly what you're going to get. Sometimes Godzilla is the villain, sometimes he's the hero, and sometimes he's somewhere in between. Sometimes the movies are serious examinations of nuclear warfare, environmental destruction or humanity's arrogance. Other times they're essentially Saturday morning cartoons with giant monsters.

Some are genuinely well-made, intelligent and beautifully crafted films. Others are so stupid, so badly written and so gloriously insane that they become entertaining for entirely different reasons. And I love the fact that the franchise has room for all of it.

The English-dubbed versions are another source of endless entertainment. Good Lord, some of that dubbing is hilarious. The dialogue is frequently idiotic, the voices rarely seem to match the characters, and occasionally the actors sound as though they're reading their lines for the first time while standing in a completely different building. Sometimes that's exactly what happened!

These badly dubbed monster movies have been parodied and ridiculed for decades, and deservedly so, but I have an enormous affection for them. Even the worst dialogue can become strangely charming when it's delivered over footage of a giant rubber lizard punching a three-headed dragon in the face.

And the cultural impact of Godzilla is simply staggering. The character has appeared in dozens of Japanese films, five American productions, television shows, cartoons, comic books, novels and video games.

He's battled monsters from other franchises, appeared in commercials, inspired countless imitators and even earned a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

His influence can be seen in everything from Jurassic Park to Pacific Rim, and the entire kaiju genre owes an enormous debt to that original 1954 masterpiece. There have been other terrific giant monsters, including Gamera, but Godzilla remains the undisputed king.

What makes me particularly happy is that the character has experienced such an extraordinary resurgence over the past decade or so.

The big-budget American productions have introduced Godzilla and King Kong to an entirely new generation of moviegoers, while Japan has continued making fascinating, inventive films of its own.

Shin Godzilla in 2016 was a brilliant, satirical reinvention of the character, and Godzilla Minus One in 2023 returned to the darker, more emotional roots of the original film. That movie was a tremendous achievement, combining spectacular visual effects with genuinely compelling human drama, and it became the first Godzilla movie to win an Academy Award, taking home the Oscar for Best Visual Effects.

And now, with Godzilla Minus Zero arriving in theaters, the King of the Monsters is back again. I love that younger audiences are discovering these characters through the modern films and then going back to explore the wonderfully bizarre history of the franchise.

Somewhere out there, a kid is watching a contemporary Godzilla movie with spectacular computer-generated effects, then discovering an old Japanese production featuring two guys in rubber suits wrestling on a miniature mountain. And hopefully that kid is having just as much fun as I did sitting in Aunt Josephine's kitchen all those years ago.

Because that's what Godzilla has always meant to me. Fun. Pure, ridiculous, occasionally terrifying, frequently hilarious, completely irresistible fun. Sure, the original film is a serious masterpiece, and some of the later movies have explored important themes with surprising intelligence and sophistication.

But sometimes I just want to watch two enormous monsters throw each other through a building. Sometimes I want to see Godzilla blast an opponent with his atomic breath, or watch King Ghidorah's three heads flailing around while Godzilla beats the living hell out of him.

And sometimes I want to laugh at a spectacularly cheap special effect or an absolutely absurd monster design. There's room for all of that, and that's why I love these movies so much.

To this day, if I'm flipping through the channels and come across a Godzilla movie, I stop. I don't care which one it is. I don't care how many times I've seen it. I don't care if it's a masterpiece or a complete disaster. I'll sit there and watch at least a little while, because these movies bring me genuine joy.

They take me back to those Saturday afternoons, those neighborhood theaters, those triple features and that little black-and-white television in my aunt's kitchen. And they remind me why I fell in love with movies in the first place.

So, in honor of Godzilla Minus Zero, I thought it would be fun to look back at ten of my favorite battle sequences from the entire history of Godzilla movies. And let me tell you, narrowing this down wasn't easy.

There are so many terrific fights, so many outrageous moments and so many wonderfully ridiculous monster confrontations that I could have made a list three times this long. Some of these battles are here because they're technically impressive, beautifully staged and genuinely exciting.

Others are here because they're so completely insane, so gloriously stupid and so hilariously entertaining that I simply couldn't leave them out.

And I'm not ranking them, either. How do you compare a brilliantly executed modern monster battle with two guys in rubber suits performing professional wrestling moves while destroying a miniature city? You can't. They're entertaining for completely different reasons, and I love them both.

So here they are, in no particular order: my ten favorite Godzilla battle sequences of all time. 

Let the giant monster ass-kicking begin.

THE 10 BEST GODZILLA BATTLES (in no particular order):

1) Godzilla and Allies vs. King Ghidorah (Destroy All Monsters, 1968)

2) Godzilla vs. Shin King Ghidorah (Godzilla, Mothra and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack, 2001)

3) Godzilla and Minilla vs. Kumonga (Son of Godzilla, 1967)

4) Godzilla vs. Mothra (Mothra vs. Godzilla, 1964)

5) Godzilla vs. King Kong (King Kong vs. Godzilla, 1962)

6) Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla (Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla, 1974)

7) Godzilla vs. The Military (Shin Godzilla, 2016)

8) Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla & Titanosaurus (Terror of Mechagodzilla, 1975)

9) Godzilla vs. Kong in Hong Kong (Godzilla vs. Kong, 2021)

10) Godzilla vs. Ebirah (Ebirah, Horror of the Deep, 1966)

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