5 Essential Underseen Kaiju Films

By Steven Sloss

It's no exaggeration to say Godzilla Minus One has taken the world by storm these past twelve months, with Toho’s legendary kaiju series auspiciously kicking off its 70th anniversary celebrations with its first-ever Academy Award win in March. 2024 is a landmark year not only for Godzilla, but kaiju cinema itself, with Ishiro Honda's original Godzilla from 1954 marking the beginning of the kaiju genre as we know it today. In this milestone anniversary year, it’s only natural that Japan’s biggest mon-star and colossal co-stars like Mothra, King Ghidorah, and Rodan receive the majority of plaudits.

Kaiju cinema is made up of so much more than its franchise-favourite megastars, however, and if you have a budding interest in the genre in the wake of Minus One, you owe it to yourself to dig a little deeper beyond them. Sticking to the big names is fun and many of us (myself included) wouldn't be fans today without them, but it's like exclusively being interested in westerns that star John Wayne, or animated films produced by Disney: very valid, but limited and unrepresentative of their wider genre and medium, respectively.

This begs the question of what constitutes a kaiju film. My personal definition is admittedly very specific - I only consider Japanese-produced monster pictures (or non-Japanese films specifically tailored after Japanese productions) to be kaiju films. To this end, there's no King Kong or The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms here. Let's be honest, labelling American monster pictures Attack of the 50 Foot Woman or The Deadly Mantis “kaiju films” is like saying Psycho is your favourite giallo – it dilutes what makes the sub-genre culturally and historically unique and just doesn't track.

In the kaiju genre's triumphant 70th anniversary year, dare to journey beyond the monstrous household names. Here are five essential, underseen Japanese monster pictures to help you dig that little bit deeper.

Sakuya: Slayer of Demons (2000)

This one is a bit of a cheat, but its kaiju flavoured climax (not to mention all the gnarly practical effects monsters that crop up throughout, as well as some major genre talent both onscreen and behind the camera) is more than enough to satisfy any genre fan. Sakuya: Slayer of Demons is a proper kick ass sword-and-spectre film that essentially functions as an action-oriented revival of Daiei’s beloved Yokai Monsters trilogy from the 1960s (the creature cast of which makes a very welcome extended cameo). It’s easily director Tomoo Haraguchi’s best film, who does a solid job channelling the dynamic action choreography of Yokai Monsters and Lone Wolf and Cub director Yoshiyuki Kuroda. It’s a crying shame that it’s the only one of Haraguchi’s films never to receive an English-friendly disc release.

Ultra Q - The Movie: Legend of the Stars (1990)

Director Akio Jissoji was best known outside Japan for his highly controversial and hyper-sexual Buddhist Trilogy, but he also directed some of the most ideologically rich and visually striking episodes of colossal superhero shows Ultraman and Ultraseven for Tsuburaya Productions in the 1960s. As such, Jissoji was the natural choice to helm Tsuburaya’s heavily thematic big screen revival of its seminal ‘60s monster series Ultra Q. One of the most cerebral giant monster pictures of all time, Ultra Q - The Movie heavily draws on Japanese mythology and folklore to tell its story of ancient aliens and the humans descended from them. For my money, Legend of the Stars ranks among the great TV-to-film adaptations, functioning not unlike a kaiju companion to Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me.

Orochi Strikes Again (1985)

What do you get when the tenacious young mavericks who would go on to form Gainax (of Neon Genesis Evangelion fame) create a micro-budget kaiju epic in the mid-1980s? You get Orochi Strikes Again, an independent 16mm extravaganza full of high-energy performances and oodles of eye-popping tokusatsu effects sequences (staged by a very young Shinji Higuchi, of Shin Godzilla, Shin Ultraman, and ‘90s Gamera trilogy fame). The film pits teams of scientists and soldiers against a bio-mechanical version of Yamata no Orochi, the mythical eight-headed serpent of Japanese folklore, in an all-out man vs. monster spectacular that bursts at its seams with adoration for the genre. That affection has certainly been repaid, with Shusuke Kaneko remounting sequences from Orochi Strikes Again practically shot-for-shot in 2001’s Godzilla, Mothra, and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack. 

Legend of Dinosaurs and Monster Birds (1977)

Don’t let its inelegant mouthful of a title put you off — this is a highly atmospheric and lavishly produced Jaws-sploitation picture from Toei. Legend of Dinosaurs and Monster Birds is awash with late '70s cynicism, with lead characters who are arrogant, egotistical, and unsympathetic finding themselves increasingly out of their depth as the events they’re caught up in escalate beyond control. Its kaiju stars are a pair of bloodthirsty reawakened dinosaurs — a Plesiosaur and a Rhamphorhynchus — whose appearance in and around Saiko Lake bring chaos to the local community and visiting partygoers alike. Featuring some of the most gruesome and graphic deaths in the history of the genre coupled with a humid, oppressive sense of impending doom, Legend of Dinosaurs and Monster Birds is a pessimistic thrill ride from its chilly, eerie opening to its fiery, apocalyptic finale.

The Whale God (1962)

Tokuzō Tanaka, a veteran of Daiei’s Zatoichi and ghost story films, helmed this pre-Jaws thriller about a colossal North Pacific right whale menacing the population of a small fishing town. The Whale God is less a monster-on-the-loose romp and more an examination of hysteria and paranoia within an isolated, insular community, setting it very widely apart from Daiei’s more famous Gamera series. There are some familiar faces among the cast, chief among them Godzilla, Seven Samurai, and Ikiru star Takashi Shimura, and the score is by Godzilla and Daimajin regular Akira Ifukube, but don’t expect anything comparable to any of its kaiju contemporaries. Without negating the Tanaka’s talent, The Whale God is the closest thing we’ve ever had to what a kaiju film from Akira Kurosawa may have looked like.