Every Godzilla Movie Ranked

He may be king of the monsters and headliner of the longest-running film franchise, but Godzilla isn’t exactly a beacon of consistency. He made his premiere in Honda Ishirô’s 1954 classic Godzilla as an allegorical figure, warning of the dangers of nuclear technology, before eventually settling into a drive-in movie star and a hero for children, as well as those young at heart. That’s a somewhat unlikely legacy, especially considering that the original film ends with the creature’s unambiguous death.

Inspired by King Kong’s popularity in Japan, Godzilla’s filmmakers didn’t have the time or resources to execute the stop-motion movie magic that brought Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack’s King Kong to life (the 1933 monster adventure was re-released in Japan in 1952), but their resourcefulness and ingenuity resulted in a different kind of magic. Tsuburaya Eiji’s pioneering use of suitmation was not only instrumental in the film’s global success, it also transformed the field of special effects. As for Godzilla, he forever infiltrated our collective lexicon: As series expert David Kalat puts it, “Where we would be without the suffix ‘-zilla’?”

While the craftsmanship of these films was often lost in translation—particularly in the pan-and-scanning wrought upon them in the TV edits and videotapes through which they were most commonly seen for decades—their spirit was not. Like Godzilla himself, these films have endured, as the franchise is now in its fourth cycle, and with the exception of the Millennium series (which started in 1999 and ended in 2004), they’re inseparable from the period in Japanese history during which were made (and named after).

It speaks volumes that a series founded on the idea of healing would find success through massive collaboration. Indeed, as critical as Honda’s talents and wartime experiences were to the series’s thematic resonance and out-of-the-gate success, it’s difficult to imagine that we would be on the eve of seeing our 41st Godzilla movie (if you count the Hollywood adaptations and animated films, of course) without the contributions of Tsuburaya, original suit actors Haruo Nakajima and Katsumi Tezuka, and composer Akira Ifukube, among many, many others. Even the silliest among these films is a work of art, holding a mirror up to the audience and providing a much-needed catharsis that reality cannot. And on the occasion of the release of Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, we ranked all the films in the franchise from worst to best.

Editor’s Note: This entry was originally published on March 24, 2021.

43. Godzilla (1977, Luigi Cozzi, Honda Ishirô, and Terry O. Morse)

In a rare case of cinematic justice, this worst of all Godzilla movies is also the least widely seen. Luigi Cozzi oversaw this re-edit of 1956’s Godzilla, King of the Monsters!, dubbing it, colorizing it, and expanding upon it with additional material, ranging from snippets of other monster movies to actual atrocity footage, including one particular shot that may leave you feeling like you’ve just watched a snuff film. The crudely rendered colorization frequently appears to have been executed in random fashion, with little, if any, regard for the images beneath them, and the resulting sensory assault doubles as a betrayal of the source material’s themes and subtext. This Godzilla—known informally as Cozzilla—isn’t merely unpleasant, but also depressing.

42. Godzilla (1998, Roland Emmerich)

The first American Godzilla doesn’t lack for bad qualities, but the eponymous creature is not among them. Were this iguana-like re-imagining of Toho’s monster at the center of a better film, it would be better regarded as a CGI achievement, for everything from the textures of its scales to the personality imbued in its anatomy and body language. Unfortunately, despite the many digital artists pushing against the outside of the envelope, the film is an interminable slog, vacillating between soullessly pantomiming Jurassic Park to advancing an underdog narrative consistently bogged down by Roland Emmerich’s directorial arrogance, best exemplified by the cynical Siskel and Ebert surrogates who are meant to elicit chuckles throughout.

41. Gigantis, the Fire Monster (1959, Oda Motoyoshi)

Many consider 1956’s Godzilla, King of the Monsters!, a heavily re-edited American localization of the original Godzilla from 1954, to be an insult to the Honda Ishirô classic, but it’s a masterpiece compared to Gigantis, the Fire Monster. This Americanized version of Godzilla Raids Again was seemingly ready-made for Mystery Science Theater 3000, from its idiotic dialogue and condescending attitude toward the Japanese, to its superfluous, relentless voiceover. Most perplexing are the efforts taken to disguise the fact that this was a Godzilla film in the first place, given the erasure of the monster’s name and his iconic roar. Save for the vocal work of George Takei, Keye Luke, and Paul Frees, the film brings nothing of value to the Godzilla canon.

40. Godzilla: Final Wars (2004, Kitamura Ryûhei)

On paper, Godzilla: Final Wars sounds like a blast: a 50th-anniversary greatest-hits-style package that incorporates almost every foe Godzilla had faced to date, and then some. Watching it, on the other hand, is another story, as the film plunges headlong into a series of fatally monotonous kaiju battles with invariably inevitable outcomes. The sheer velocity of Final Wars fails as a substitute for compelling material, while the nods to The Matrix feel more desperate than cool. The climactic cease fire rings hollow given how, up to this point, the film has treated many of its human characters less like people than punchlines, though Don Frye, as a grizzled commander, manages to offer up a nice slice of ham amid the gruel.

39. Godzilla vs. Biollante (1989, Ômori Kazuki)

You have to give Godzilla vs. Biollante points for chutzpah: Godzilla’s nemesis here–part flower, part Godzilla, and infused with the spirit of a scientist’s deceased daughter—is among the most singular monsters in the series, and a beguiling, otherworldly special-effects creation to boot. Such unique beauty highlights how deserving Biollante is of a better and less forgettable film. Tonally incongruous, bordering on asinine, this first sequel of the Heisei era suffers not so much from director Ômori Kazuki’s desire to have been making a James Bond film instead, but from how erratically the espionage and kaiju genres have been integrated. Godzilla vs. Biollante should be fun and awe-inspiring, but instead it’s broad and kitschy in all the wrong ways.

38. Godzilla vs. Kong (2021, Adam Wingard)

King Kong and Godzilla are two of the most metaphorically loaded characters in the history of cinema, originally intended as an allegory for the American slave trade and the devastation of Japan during World War II, respectively. It’s hardly incidental that these are both forms of white violence, but to hear Godzilla vs. Kong tell it, the characters are a giant lizard and ape, full stop. Adam Wingard’s film is a resonance-free affair that suffers from its thin characterizations and questionable stereotypes. There’s a timely parable about the marginalized fighting back against the forces of capitalism (in this case, Mechagodzilla) buried underneath the spectacle, but it’s one that its tone-deaf screenplay is uninterested in working out. Godzilla vs. Kong certainly looks pretty, but it’s as empty as the hollow earth that Kong plucks his giant axe from.

37. Godzilla, Mothra and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack (2001, Kaneko Shûsuke)

This is among the ugliest-looking of Toho’s Godzilla films, and it’s almost certainly the meanest. Here, Godzilla is possessed by the souls of those killed in the Pacific War, angered by modern Japan’s denial of its past misdeeds, but the potential for real gravitas is lost in the weightless effects and perfunctory battle sequences. The human plot involving a journalist (Niiyama Chiharu ) and her admiral father (Uzaki Ryûdô) resonates, but it ultimately fails to transcend the film’s generally cold attitude. The dispensation of Godzilla’s victims, whether they’re foolish or merely helpless, betrays a cynicism unbecoming of the franchise’s roots, and it doesn’t help that this newly designed Godzilla looks and moves like the patriarch from the ’90s Dinosaurs sitcom.

36. Godzilla vs. Megaguirus (2000, Tezuka Masaaki)

This film’s premise—scientists hope to neutralize Godzilla by shooting him with a miniature black hole—is sufficiently cool that I hope a future production recycles it. Such as it is, Godzilla vs. Megaguirus is largely forgettable outside of how cheap much of it looks. An opening skirmish between Godzilla and a battalion of bazooka-equipped soldiers, playing a kind of hide-and-seek game with one another, is the highpoint, showcasing a kind of fighting previously unseen in the series, and effectively setting up the main character’s (Tanaka Misato) trajectory after her superior perishes while saving her life. The CG effects are largely of the copy-and-paste variety, and, much like the narrative, bear little in the way of distinction or weight.

35. Godzilla vs. Hedorah (1971, Banno Yoshimitsu)

Extending the anti-nuclear message of the series into an anti-pollution stance, Godzilla vs. Hedorah (also known as Godzilla vs. the Smog Monster) illustrates with nightmarish ease the devastating effects of treating the planet like a garbage dump, particularly in scenes where Godzilla’s newfound nemesis, emitting toxic fumes while flying above the Japanese mainland like a manta ray from hell, quickly reduces its victims to corroded skeletons. But these qualities are undermined by everything from a frustrating lack of consistency—Hedorah’s sludge kills humans on contact but leaves a kitten unharmed—to the incongruous efforts to make the picture more kid-friendly, including an animated sequence and the infamous moment where Godzilla demonstrates a heretofore unseen (and by-itself-memorable) ability to fly.

34. Godzilla Raids Again (1955, Oda Motoyoshi)

This first Godzilla sequel is reminiscent of King Kong’s own, Son of Kong, in that it’s clearly a rush job meant to cash in on the success of its predecessor. A second Godzilla is discovered on a remote island, fighting another monster, Anguirus. The two soon relocate their rivalry to the mainland, where the pilots who discovered them bear witness to their destruction before playing a key role in neutralizing the threat. Some shots of Godzilla, entranced by flares, are memorable, but from the cinematography to the performances to the special effects, virtually everything about Godzilla Raids Again feels perfunctory and undercooked. Only the final battle, in which victory is won in part by a kamikaze-like maneuver, delivers a much-needed dramatic kick.

33. Godzilla 1985 (1985, Hashimoto Koji and R.J. Kizer)

The American B-side to The Return of Godzilla, Godzilla 1985 expands and even improves on aspects of the Toho original, but it also shoots itself in the foot. Edited by New World Pictures in a manner that deliberately echoes 1956’s Godzilla, King of the Monsters!, this localized cut returns Raymond Burr to the role of Steve Martin, loses some extraneous human drama from The Return of Godzilla, and wisely deletes some of the original version’s less successful effects shots. In Burr’s climactic speech, the film finds a sorrowful heart of darkness. Pity, then, that it also changes a Russian character into a villain in an act of needless Cold War antagonism, and gracelessly hawks Dr. Pepper during one of its most serious moments. Thank God(zilla) that Burr himself refused to take part in the advertising gimmick.

32. Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire (2024, Adam Wingard)

In the early scenes of Adam Wingard’s Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, Dan Stevens’s veterinarian extracts an infected tooth from Kong’s mouth. It’s an apt introduction to this neon-soaked extravaganza, which suggests the cinematic equivalent of washing down Pop Rocks with soda. While no less superficial than Godzilla vs. Kong, Wingard’s follow-up improves on its predecessor thanks to its joyous kineticism, diminished self-seriousness, and improved comedic back-and-forth among the human characters, channeling the weird, downright goofy energy of the later Shōwa-era entries. Childlike in its exuberance, it careens from hallucinatory sequences that rival the maximalism of the Wachowskis’ Speed Racer to gorgeously choreographed monster mashes, the latter highlighted by a striking tableau of the titular beasts and their newfound foes at the outset of a zero-gravity brawl.

31. Godzilla vs. Megalon (1973, Fukuda Jun)

The most cash-strapped film of the Showa era, Godzilla vs. Megalon is also the one most devoid of subtext, briefly alluding to underground nuclear testing as a motivating factor—for the citizens of Seatopia to unleash their beetle-like guardian, Megalon, as punishment against Earth’s surface dwellers—before easing into a comical series of battles clearly inspired by the antics of the then-popular Ultraman. Here, Godzilla teams up with the human-built Jet Jaguar, who proves to have its own sense of good and evil, as well as the ability to change size at will. Save for an impressive set piece in which Megalon destroys a dam, Godzilla vs. Megalon illustrates Toho’s ability to work within the limitations of thriftiness, its earnest goofiness best summed up in the shot of Godzilla providing Megalon with a flying drop kick before flashing a celebratory fist pump.

30. Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah (1991, Ômori Kazuki)

Opening in flashback and introducing a novel time-travel element, Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah rebounds from the wonky Godzilla vs. Biollante without quite hitting its stride. Humans from 2204 arrive in the present, promising to erase Godzilla from history, but an intriguing turn of events speaks to the inevitability of monsters in a world that’s embraced nuclear power. A trip to a WWII battlefield yields some of the more piecemeal effects work and cringe-worthy English dialogue in the series. But the performers are otherwise in fine form, and the third act delivers on spectacle, if only to a point, while references to contemporary Hollywood films underscore the feeling that the Heisei era was still struggling to find its identity.

29. The Return of Godzilla (1984, Hashimoto Koji)

The Return of Godzilla serves as a direct sequel to the original 1954 movie, forgetting the existence of the 14 films between them and attempting to recapture the somber tone largely forgone in the interim. In that regard, it’s moderately successful: Godzilla’s destruction is more fearsome and cathartic here than in any of the prior sequels, commencing with an eerie point-of-view shot of the titan emerging from a fog bank, while the image of a red sky, produced by the fallout from a nuclear explosion, is indelible and haunting. The second half recalls the original film’s primary set piece in its unremitting destruction, but the elements pertaining to humanity and the Cold War don’t resonate much beyond their necessity to the plot. Absent a spotlight on human tragedy to underscore Godzilla’s purported demise, this entry impresses but ultimately fails to linger.

28. Son of Godzilla (1967, Fukuda Jun)

Son of Godzilla introduces Minilla, the first of several variations on a Godzilla offspring, and the next logical step in directing the series toward a younger audience. Thankfully, the film sidesteps the question of how the big fella reproduces, focusing instead on the amusing parental frustrations that Godzilla endures as he tries to teach Minilla how to defend himself against the giant spider and praying mantises residing on their island home. The rather lifelike movement of these creatures, essentially constructed as giant marionettes, ensures that they’re the stars of the picture, especially compared to the unappealing design of Minilla and an inferior Godzilla suit. These are minor concerns in an overall charming ditty that continues to honor the series’s protest roots via its human characters, namely scientists researching ways to combat global food shortages.

27. Godzilla vs. Gigan (1972, Fukuda Jun)

As the financially bereft Japanese film industry underwent great transition in the 1970s, so, too, did Toho’s Godzilla productions. The resulting Godzilla vs. Gigan was a kaiju free-for-all, assembled with stock footage and music and reusing monster suits that were clearly in disrepair, trying anything and everything to keep things interesting—and mostly succeeding. The film is as entertaining as it is ridiculous, concerning itself with a plot by invading extraterrestrial cockroaches and portraying its protagonist monsters as “talking” to each other (with accompanying speech bubbles in the original cut, and actual dialogue in the English-language release, Godzilla on Monster Island). The design of the new foe, Gigan, is particularly inspired, with the buzzsaw on its chest giving Godzilla a run for his money in the bloodiest fighting the series had yet seen.

26. King Kong vs. Godzilla (1963, Honda Ishirô and Thomas Montgomery)

The American version of 1962’s King Kong vs. Godzilla recasts the original material into the mold of a more streamlined Universal monster movie, replacing most of Akira Ifukube’s score and re-contextualizing the narrative with an English-language news broadcast as a framing device. The result loses much of the original’s corporate satire—pitting Godzilla and King Kong against each other as products vying for dominance in the marketplace—but that it remains apparent at all speaks to the intelligence and savvy with which the material was first rendered. The characterization of the humans is more restricted as a result of the heavy cutting, but the humorous dubbing matches the original’s comic tone, and the fun factor remains high throughout.

25. Godzilla: Planet of the Monsters (2017, Shizuno Kôbun and Seshita Hiroyuki)

The first animated film in the Godzilla series wastes no time establishing an aura of despair. Having fled Earth in the wake of Godzilla’s destruction, humanity’s survivors have spent 20 years in deep space, searching for another hospitable planet. After opting to return to Earth—where, thanks to relativity, some 20,000 years have passed—they find that Godzilla’s supremacy has increased along with his size. Planet of the Monsters introduces new humanoid races, the Exif and the Bilusaludo, also refugees, whose technologies and motives will both aid and hinder mankind’s last-ditch efforts to defeat the monster they created. What the film lacks in a proper conclusion, it more than makes up for with its dynamic battle sequences and jaw-dropping cliffhanger.

24. Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla (1974, Fukuda Jun)

Cashing in on the mid-’70s popularity of robots in Japan, the penultimate feature of the Showa era pits Godzilla against his robotic lookalike Mechagodzilla, the latest nemesis deployed by malevolent aliens seeking to take over the world, and one possessing an army’s worth of weaponry. Fukuda Jun’s final directorial effort of the series brings to bear all his talents, fully displayed in the film’s impressive (and explosive) set pieces and the exciting parallels drawn between the human drama and kaiju destruction. Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla may not be a classic, but it feels like one, at least when it comes to the wonderfully weird King Caesar, an Okinawan deity who aids Godzilla in overcoming his metallic doppelganger.

23. Godzilla 2000: Millennium (1999, Ôkawara Takao)

Godzilla 2000: Millennium’s semi-satirical tone and positive outlook suggest a Godzilla movie as helmed by Joe Dante. After the brooding conclusion of the Heisei era, this start to the franchise’s third phase supposes that none of the sequels from the previous 44 years exist, a choice shared by the next five films that allowed them to indulge in creative freedom. This is probably the most prototypical Godzilla film to the eyes of people who’ve never seen one: proudly silly, without any loss of conviction. The use of CGI is knowingly reflexive, too, as the villain—an extraterrestrial presence looking to steal Japan’s technology—reveals itself as a barely disguised riff on the monster from the 1998 American Godzilla.

22. Ebirah, Horror of the Deep (1966, Fukuda Jun)

A step back from the increasingly higher stakes of the prior films, Ebirah, Horror of the Deep (released stateside as Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster) continues to shine a spotlight on serious topics while opting for the lighter tone of a James Bond adventure. A terrorist organization is enslaving Infant Island natives while developing nuclear weapons, the radiation resulting in Ebirah, an overgrown lobster, and ostensibly attracting Godzilla, who’s found sleeping in a nearby cave. This entry is unique in that it was initially intended as a King Kong vehicle, accounting for some inconsistencies in Godzilla’s behavior. Fukuda Jun’s skillful direction more than compensates for these relative flaws, and Masaru Sato’s score provides a refreshing surf-rock vibe for the film’s pleasures, from a very cool underwater fight sequence to Godzilla wielding Ebirah’s freshly dismembered pincer, to what may be the best mobile shrubbery gag in all of cinema.

21. Godzilla: City on the Edge of Battle (2018, Shizuno Kôbun and Seshita Hiroyuki)

Much of the original Godzilla’s tension rests on the fear of an arms race: that any weapon that could defeat Godzilla might give rise to even greater horrors. City on the Edge of Battle revisits this thesis in the form of Mechagodzilla City, an A.I.-created fortress powered by nanometal, at once the only thing capable of defeating Godzilla and a threat to all other life on Earth. The sense of encroaching doom is offset by the introduction of the Houtua, a tribe of humans who’ve adapted to Godzilla’s presence, living happily and humbly. This middle chapter in the animated Godzilla trilogy is bold in many ways, perhaps most of all in its suggestion that, if defeating a monster requires sacrificing one’s humanity, the very concept of winning may no longer be viable.

20. Terror of Mechagodzilla (1975, Honda Ishirô)

A direct sequel to Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla, Terror of Mechagodzilla saw the return of Honda Ishirô to the director’s chair and the series returning to its deeper, darker roots, all the while perpetuating the dynamic visual growth that can be charted through the Showa era. The introduction of Titanosaurus and subsequent fisticuffs with Godzilla employ various impressive point-of-view shots, highlighting that the filmmakers still had new tricks up their sleeves ahead of the series going into a decade-long dormancy. Takayama Yukiko’s screenplay is fraught with complexity, featuring an aggrieved scientist, Dr. Shinji Mafune (Hirata Akihiko), seeking revenge on his species and an ill-fated romance with direct ties to the central conflict. It’s fitting that Honda’s final directorial effort would end the first Godzilla era on a high note.

19. Godzilla vs. SpaceGodzilla (1994, Yamashita Kensho)

A deliberate step back from the seriousness of the preceding films, Godzilla vs. SpaceGodzilla brings a new level of super-sized familial discord to the series. Some of Godzilla’s cells, accidentally released into outer space, have mutated and returned in the form of a powered-up clone, SpaceGodzilla, who proceeds to imprison the impossibly adorable Little Godzilla (formerly known as Baby Godzilla). These tensions, and a subplot concerning an effort to control Godzilla through telekinesis, remind audiences that these monsters also have inner lives, and that they’re capable of connecting to humans. While more stylized and artificial-looking than those of its immediate predecessors, this film’s miniatures and effects work provide a rousing throwback that nonetheless retains the maximized aplomb of the ’90s films.

18. Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla (2002, Tezuka Masaaki)

Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla, like the 1954 original, derives much of its strength from depictions of moral strife and scientific hubris. The Japan Self-Defense Forces have constructed a new mech unit (dubbed Kiryu) around the skeleton of the original Godzilla, the very bones and DNA embedded in and connected to the JSDF’s modern weaponry. The results, unsurprisingly, prove disastrous. Meanwhile, Akane (Shaku Yumiko), shamed by her part in the lives lost in an earlier battle, hopes to redeem herself as Kiryu’s pilot. The film’s human drama is delivered with refreshing conviction, and the battle sequences are appropriately awesome. Along with the direct sequel, Godzilla: Tokyo S.O.S., this entry represents the peak of the series’s Millennium era.

17. Godzilla: King of the Monsters (2019, Michael Dougherty)

Opening with a callback to the high point of its 2014 predecessor, this first Godzilla sequel of the MonsterVerse knows it has big shoes to fill, trying to match the scope and wonder of Gareth Edwards’s film while also adding more and bigger bells and whistles. To that end, Godzilla: King of the Monsters is a nearly unqualified success, balancing a steady deluge of monsters with a cast of characters scrambling to stay ahead of the fray, but outside of a few moments, it doesn’t share the earlier film’s sense of scale. Still, it doesn’t lack for visceral beauty, most indelibly the image of Ghidorah perched victoriously atop a volcano, while the sequence in which Rodan wipes out a squadron of fighter jets may be the most singularly thrilling of the whole franchise.

16. King Kong vs. Godzilla (1962, Honda Ishirô)

King Kong vs. Godzilla serves as both a foundational metatext for the series’s growing self-awareness and a blueprint for the sequels to follow. A pharmaceutical company’s advertising director, Mr. Tako (a wonderful Arishima Ichirô), hopes to boost the ratings of the TV program they sponsor and decides to steal the headlines from Godzilla by pitting him against Kong. Before long, bets are placed. Leaning into the ridiculousness of its premise, the film plays the human elements for laughs, while portraying its monsters as larger-than-life wrestlers. In downplaying the seriousness of what these monsters represent and getting the viewer’s guard down, their climactic battle on Mount Fuji arguably allows for greater catharsis.

15. Godzilla Minus One (2023, Yamazaki Takashi)

A fusion of intelligent drama and crowd-pleasing spectacle that puts the bulk of its effects-driven contemporaries to shame, Godzilla Minus One reboots the series in expert fashion, unfolding over the end and aftermath of World War II and bordering on an outright remake of the original movie. But the scales here are tipped further: Japan, still reeling from nuclear attacks and firebombings and hamstrung militarily by international politics, is weaker, while this iteration of Godzilla is far stronger than his nearly 70-years-older predecessor. What Godzilla Minus One lacks in comparison to the existential dread of the 1954 production, it nearly compensates for with sheer visceral terror, deftly interrogating the values of postwar Japan while painting Godzilla as an amoral wrecking ball heaving its way through the populace. Most savory are the juxtapositions of restrained silence and thunderous destruction, the latter movingly complemented by composer Satô Naoki’s harrowing, Ifukube-indebted war march.

14. All Monsters Attack (1969, Honda Ishirô)

All Monsters Attack (also known as Godzilla’s Revenge) is a delightful riff on Alice in Wonderland in which the proverbial rabbit hole is the imaginative mind of a child. While the film relies heavily on stock footage from previous films for its monster sequences, this cost-saving measure also speaks implicitly to the fact that this is a Godzilla movie about Godzilla movies, dreamt of by Ichiro Miki (Yazaki Tomonori), a bullied latchkey kid who gets caught up in a plot with thieves hiding out nearby. As Godzilla teaches his son, Minilla, to stand up to Gabara—a catlike monster unique to this film, and who expert Richard Pusateri hilariously describes as sounding “like a small car that cannot start”—Ichiro learns to stand up for himself. In either it’s Japanese and American version, it’s profoundly cool how unconcerned this film is with appearing so.

13. Godzilla vs. Mothra (1992, Ôkawara Takao)

Echoing the franchise’s earlier entries, Godzilla vs. Mothra distills the kaiju tropes to their essence and deftly balances the wonderful, the silly, and the sublime. Ôkawara Takao’s first time at bat directing a Godzilla film is an unqualified success, merging lavish production values with finely tuned performances bereft of camp. Here, a basic morality tale about corporate greed run rampant acts as the catalyst for a series of expertly staged monster smackdowns, culminating in an act of great sacrifice. When a foolish CEO kidnaps Mothra’s fairies—here known as Cosmos—for use in an advertisement campaign, Mothra, Godzilla, and newcomer Battra, a dark deity purposed with protecting the Earth, intervene. As per usual, much property damage ensues.

12. Godzilla: Tokyo S.O.S. (2003, Tezuka Masaaki)

Unique among the titles from the series’s third era in that it serves as a direct sequel to both the preceding film and the 1954 original, Godzilla: Tokyo S.O.S. merges state-of-the-art practical effects with storytelling steeped in a deep regard for the legacy of the franchise. Mechagodzilla is being repaired following damages suffered in Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla, but Mothra warns, by way her fairies, against further use of the original Godzilla’s remains. Tokyo S.O.S. never forgets the tragedy of Godzilla, and affords great dignity to its characters, who repeatedly accept death as the cost of doing what’s necessary. It’s also among the most beautiful entries in the franchise. Returning director Tezuka Masaaki delivers a master class in bridging the scale between kaiju destruction and human melodrama.

11. Godzilla, King of the Monsters! (1956, Honda Ishirô and Terry O. Morse)

Across this American localization of Godzilla, the insertion of new actors into the original material is far from seamless, and there’s an insensitivity, however unintended, in how some of the Japanese dialogue is used interchangeably (in his Criterion commentary, David Kalat likens this to the “wah wah” noises made by the adults in the Peanuts cartoons). But Godzilla, King of the Monsters! unreservedly amplified the humanity of the Japanese people barely a decade removed from WWII, and the main character added for Western audiences, Raymond Burr’s newspaperman Steve Martin, is mostly limited to being a feckless observer of the destruction indirectly wrought by his own homeland. The reconfigured narrative appropriately channels the bleakness (and structure) of contemporary film noir, and even the sporadically dubbed dialogue yields one of the best lines of the series. This Godzilla broke down countless barriers for international cinema, and its box office success secured Godzilla’s status as a worldwide star for decades to come.

10. Destroy All Monsters (1968, Honda Ishirô)

Originally intended as the final Godzilla movie, Destroy All Monsters benefits from one of the series’s most indulgent budgets—one that, despite the film’s box office success, would see an increasing reliance on stock footage in future installments—but even more so from the innumerable skills that Toho’s artists had honed across the prior eight films. Honda Ishirô, returning from a two-film hiatus for his sixth Godzilla production, makes what must have been an incredibly complex shoot look easy, deftly cutting between events around (and beyond) the Earth, sometimes with multiple planes of action unfolding simultaneously, including pyrotechnics, as nearly all of Toho’s kaiju are unleashed on the world by alien invaders intent on world domination. The climactic fight—pitting ten against one—is a barnburner.

9. Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla (1993, Ôkawara Takao)

Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla so seamlessly melds monster smackdowns with human melodrama and just a smattering of smirk that the effect is practically Spielbergian. The sense of scale is acute and awe-inspiring: A series of compositions juxtaposing Godzilla against natural landscapes, reminiscent of daguerreotypes, evoke an Olympian god on Earth ready to pass judgment, while an early scuffle between Godzilla and Rodan suggests the notion of an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. Kenpachiro Satsuma, with the aide of the film’s effects specialists, delivers an eerily expressive (and possibly series-best) performance as Godzilla. That the film plays things relatively straight helps with the introduction of Godzillasaurus, a.k.a. Baby Godzilla, whose presence anchors the proceedings at the human level.

8. Godzilla: The Planet Eater (2018, Shizuno Kôbun and Seshita Hiroyuki)

Most Godzilla movies rest on the assumption that defeating the monstrous reptile so that civilization might return to business as usual is a worthy cause. But Godzilla: The Planet Eater suggests that maybe it isn’t. Following the disastrous results of the events in City on the Edge of Battle, Haruo (Miyano Mamoru) must face the consequences of having possibly handed victory to Godzilla, but little is as it seems. The Planet Eater is the most visually compelling of Toho’s anime trilogy (especially with the introduction of an old foe in a new form), but it lingers most for its cutthroat idealism, similar to that of George Romero’s Day of the Dead, and the final, post-credits sequence is among the most stirring and hopeful of the series.

7. Mothra vs. Godzilla (1964, Honda Ishirô)

The first genuinely great Godzilla sequel, Honda Ishirô’s Mothra vs. Godzilla would also be the last film of the Showa era to depict the big lizard as an antagonist, subtly shifting the portrayal of villainy onto humanity’s avarice. Washed away by a violent storm from its island home, Mothra’s egg shows up in Japanese waters, where a pair of capitalists quickly enact a scheme to profit off of it, oblivious to the dangers involved. The film’s simple but effective morality lesson is best exemplified in the sequence where the two schemers, fighting over a pile of money instead of fleeing to safety, perish in the wake of Godzilla’s destruction. The advances made in the series’s production values make Mothra vs. Godzilla a special effects landmark (not just for this series), while cinematographer Hajime Koizumi’s prodigious use of the widescreen frame brings to mind John Carpenter’s early work. The U.S. release, titled Godzilla vs. The Thing, is similarly worth seeking out, especially for the Frontier Missile Cruisers sequence, deleted from the Japanese cut.

6. Invasion of Astro-Monster (1965, Honda Ishirô)

Invasion of Astro-Monster is noteworthy in that it’s the first Godzilla movie to be co-produced by an American studio, United Productions of America. Practically speaking, this means that whether you’re viewing the Japanese or American cut (titled Monster Zero or Godzilla vs. Monster Zero), the film is partially dubbed, as co-leading American actor Nick Adams performed his lines in English on set. Creatively, this crossover speaks to the film’s themes of unification. The citizens of Planet X have deceived the people of Earth into letting them “borrow” Godzilla and Rodan in order to battle Ghidorah, who’s taken up residence on their home planet. The simplicity of the plot provides a fertile ground where the rest of the film’s qualities—from its gorgeous set design and color schemes to the breathless cross-cutting of its final act—can flourish uninhibited. Godzilla’s infamous victory dance doubles as the victory lap this joyous entry deserves.

5. Godzilla vs. Destoroyah (1995, Ôkawara Takao)

Death and resurrection are in vogue in Godzilla vs. Destoroyah, the conclusion to the second Godzilla era: Prehistoric creatures revived a half century ago by Dr. Serizawa’s oxygen destroyer are wreaking havoc and growing, Godzilla’s body is overheating and on the brink of nuclear meltdown (threatening the Earth with it), and the multiple deaths suffered by Godzilla Junior (formerly Little Godzilla) have taken on biblical proportions. Akira Ifukube’s mournful score, the last he ever composed, serves as a fitting bookend to a career and an era, but the film also makes a point of having a blast—a handful of nods to James Cameron’s Aliens are both organic and earned—before breaking your heart. The kaiju equivalent of a funeral dirge, Destoroyah honors and elevates Godzilla’s legacy. Like its pyrotechnics, its pathos packs a wallop.

4. Shin Godzilla (2016, Anno Hideaki and Higuchi Shinji)

The first of Toho’s films to completely reboot the series, Shin Godzilla is the 2016 equivalent to the 1954 original, channeling the traumas of the 2011 Tohoku and Fukushima Daiichi disasters and presenting the titular monster, first and foremost, as a public health crisis. Unlike the relatively straightforward military battles common to the series, Japan’s public officials must here navigate complex legal channels hand-in-hand with both their own military and other world governments in order to quell the rapidly evolving reptilian threat. This incarnation of Godzilla is arguably the most frightening one to date, unleashing more damage in mere moments than in some entire films’ running times. Directed with aplomb to spare, Shin Godzilla is a sobering reminder of nature’s ongoing supremacy.

3. Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster (1964, Honda Ishirô)

Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster not only perfects the series’s monster-versus-monster formula, it boasts what may be the most purely enjoyable sequence of any Godzilla film before and after it. Furthering Toho’s efforts to aim the franchise more toward children, this film adeptly weaves an espionage plot into its monster-mayhem fabric, lessening the emphasis on the series’s signature subtext about the threat of nuclear war without stepping away from it entirely. A prophetess warns the masses that the people of Earth must awaken to their duties as citizens of the universe, and so, too, must Godzilla, Mothra, and Rodan learn to set aside their differences in order to overcome a common enemy (but not before the world’s biggest game of passive-aggressive volleyball). A perfect machine running at full capacity, Ghidorah features standout work from all involved, yielding in some of the best performances ever given by its cast of monsters.

2. Godzilla (2014, Gareth Edwards)

After the spectacular failure of Roland Emmerich’s 1998 film of the same name, stakes were high for this second go at an American Godzilla production. Steven Spielberg’s influence looms large over the film, given that its characters have more than a few close encounters with tensions of the nuclear kind, but Godzilla reigns even larger. Here, he’s once again a deity—usually unseen, yet always present. The film’s jaw-dropping H.A.L.O. jump sequence—all apocalyptic chiaroscuro, juxtaposing lilliputian humans against monsters too massive to even fit in the frame—brings to mind nothing less than Dante’s journey through hell, and when that scene references Stanley Kubrick by way of György Ligeti’s “Requiem,” the moment feels earned. It achieves true grandeur, partly through a deep appreciation for trauma’s lingering effects, and partly by eliding empty spectacle for something more personal, almost kabuki-like, never more beautifully so than in a cut from a bellowing Godzilla to the image of a child asleep, next to their dinosaur toys.

1. Godzilla (1954, Honda Ishirô)

If Georges Méliès’s effects extravaganzas gave cinematic form to dreams, Honda Ishirô’s monumental Godzilla is a manifestation of hellish nightmares. Despite its dated special effects and baked-in visual artifacts (the latter resulting from the use of easily damaged film stock), the film still feels fresh. A walking metaphor for America’s military power, Godzilla is presented as sheer force, a wrecking ball impervious to the weapons that spawned him. The film emphasizes his wild, reptilian brutality, but still leaves room for empathy when he meets his match in the form of the anguished Dr. Serizawa (Hirata Akihiko), who’s developed a powerful new weapon but fears the potential of another arms race. Few films have come close to matching Godzilla’s metaphorical weight, especially the apocalyptic plow of its second half, where it channels the catharsis of a nation still reeling from the unspeakable. This wasn’t the first kaiju film, but it remains the holy text of the genre, an antiwar masterpiece that combines the full potential of science fiction and cinema in an achievement of savage beauty and uncompromising humanity.