Mothra (1962)

Between 1956 and 1961, Toho made a bevy of monster movies in an attempt to recapture the success they had with Godzilla in 1954. This culminated in Mothra, which became the most successful of those attempts. The kaiju became both a supporting character in the Godzilla series as well as the star of her own trilogy in the late 1990s. Mothra thus became the only other Toho monster besides Godzilla to star in her own sequels.  But the question remains, sixty-five years later, does the original film still hold up?

The strongest element of the original Mothra is definitely its imaginativeness.  A female kaiju who goes through metamorphosis, tiny fairies that sing and speak in code, vampire plants, the Mothra symbol, atomic heat rays employed by Japanese self-defense forces, this film is loaded with cool concepts that stick in your mind long after you’ve seen the film.  It’s no stretch of the imagination to say that Mothra probably has the most in-depth lore of any giant monster, something explored further in films like Godzilla and Mothra: Battle for Earth and Rebirth of Mothra. 

But Mothra hosts other positive attributes, most notably its soundtrack.  Surprisingly, this is not Godzilla composer Akira Ifukube at the helm, but instead Yuji Koseki.  His music isn’t necessarily as iconic as that of Ifukube, but it is absolutely gorgeous, creating a mysterious and lush atmosphere that isn’t found in Mothra’s contemporaries.  The Mothra song is probably the best piece of music in Toho’s entire sci-fi catalogue. 

The special effects have mostly aged.  Some less than others, like the puppet for Mothra’s larva form, which looks about as lifelike as you could possibly expect for 1961.  The puppet for Mothra’s adult form moves perfectly, but its fuzziness and giant eyes make it a little goofy by today’s standards.  The miniatures in the film are not perfect, but they’re decently convincing, and the tactile nature of practical effects is appealing.  The bluescreen is probably the most dated part of the film, there’s no excuses for it, but it doesn’t ruin the film by any means. 

The political nature of the film is heavily mixed.  From an American perspective, this film is highly diverse, mostly featuring a Japanese cast.  But there’s only so much you can credit a Japanese movie for having Japanese people in it.  The film also features a fictional indigenous South Pacific people.  By today’s standards, their portrayal is extremely inappropriate, with darker skin tone painted on, reminiscent of blackface.  But for a country that had set out to conquer the Pacific twenty years prior, the depiction of the fictional Infant Islanders is surprisingly compassionate, portraying them as the innocent victims of Western imperialism who have a religion that actually turns out to be true.  The Western imperialism in question comes from the fictional nation of Rosilica, a very obvious stand-in for the United States of America, with elements of Russia thrown in.  The movie is unsubtly resentful towards the States, but moreso against the capitalistic nature of America’s elite class than the nation as a whole.