'Godzilla is King of the Monsters, but Queen of the Gays'

Gather round kids as I let you in on a little secret. The "G" in "LGBTQ" doesn't stand for "Gay," and it never has. It stands for "Godzilla".

Yes, that scaly behemoth of immense power and stature is also a raging queer who quite literally flames with atomic breath. Every time Godzilla screams "SKREEONK," what they're actually saying is "Gay Rights!" (or "Walk Faster!" if it's rush hour).

Just look at the devastation Japan's most beloved kaiju leaves in its wake. Because Godzilla doesn't care if you're gay or straight. They'll destroy you and your city regardless of who you are or how you identify, and I think that's beautiful. We're all the same when we're squashed underfoot.

Thankfully, this enduring diva isn't going anywhere anytime soon. Toho has just greenlit a sequel to Godzilla Minus One from director Takashi Yamazaki, which just so happened to be the best Godzilla film released this century. 2024 also marks the 70th anniversary of Godzilla's debut in Japan, so now is the perfect time to celebrate everyone's favourite King of the Monsters Queen of the Gays.

Godzilla's queer appeal stems in part from their tragic life as an outcast who never asked to be born. As original Godzilla director Ishirō Honda once said: "Monsters are tragic beings. They are born too tall, too strong, too heavy. They are not evil by choice. That is their tragedy."

It's easy to see why gays love monsters of all kinds. Just like us, they're hated for being different, isolated and demonised by a world that doesn't even try to understand them. And when it comes to monsters, they don't get much bigger than Godzilla. It's not just that queer allegory which makes King Kong's nemesis so relatable though.

While many monsters are characterised as evil and calculated, Godzilla is rage incarnate. And that holds a special appeal for us because living as a queer person in today's society can be exhausting and enraging on a daily basis. As much as we'd like to think we're more demure than we are, the truth is that this anger can often be an intrinsic part of the queer experience.

With every homophobic comment or transphobic headline or even every cancellation of a beloved queer show, that rage builds like the nuclear flames that churn in Godzilla's belly. At times like that, who wouldn't want to be a giant unstoppable force like Godzilla? Who doesn't want to stand as tall as Godzilla, unbothered by those who hate it?

Read more:

Godzilla at 70: Why the Japanese pop culture titan is enjoying a resurgence

Godzilla Minus One's Netflix release came as a big surprise, but why?

Godzilla 1998: The monster-sized struggle to remake Japan's Kaiju in America

The King of the Monsters Queen of the Gays is a force to be reckoned with and the same is true of LGBTQ+ people in the face of injustice. But it's not just queer symbolism that Godzilla reckons with.

Notice how I haven't gendered Godzilla's pronouns throughout this piece? That's because the monster's gender is still up for debate. Despite being regularly referred to as "King of the Monsters," Godzilla (and the other kaiju) are described using gender-neutral pronouns in the original Japanese movies. It wasn't until Western dubs and subtitles adopted male pronouns for Godzilla that the creature was referred to as such by the majority of English speakers.

Things have since been complicated further by Roland Emmerich’s 1998 fiasco and even some Japanese films where Godzilla lays eggs, reproducing asexually. That confusion sort of makes sense though, because if Godzilla did have genitals, they'd be quite easy to spot.

By keeping Godzilla's gender ambiguous, intentionally or not, it cements this idea that Godzilla, the ultimate organism in some ways, has transcended the constraints of gender. And in doing so, the films have also spared us from having to look at Godzilla's humongous junk, which we're eternally grateful for.

But even if Godzilla had been coded as a straight male bro, you'd be hard pressed to deny just how camp the majority of their films are, especially when it comes to the other kaiju. As if Mothra wasn't gay enough, they're followed everywhere by twin fairies while a sprinkle of rainbow dust is left in their wake. That's Mother right there.

Godzilla themselves are no stranger to having a goofy, camp ol' time either. Remember when they drop kicked Megalon? Or how about when they got their groove on in 1965's Invasion of Astro Monster? And don't forget how Godzilla vs. Megalon introduced two heartthrob guys who seemed a lot closer than your average straight male protagonists, the kind historians would probably describe as "just good friends" upon seeing their skeletal remains clutch each other tight.

Queerness is baked into the monstrous DNA of Godzilla and always has been. Why else would Godzilla Minus One come to Netflix on the first day of Pride Month back in June this year? And why would Toho, the studio behind Godzilla, share a heartwarming short where Godzilla Jr. comes out as trans to Godzilla?

I won't spoil the magic creator Cressa Maeve Beer conjures up in this mini stop-motion masterpiece, except to point out that Godzilla wears tiny reading glasses at one point.

What's most remarkable about this though is that Toho openly supports queer fans of Godzilla in ways you'll rarely see from the social media pages for Marvel or Star Wars without there being backlash. But Godzilla fans just get it, because you can't just love Godzilla without loving the LGBTQ+ community as a whole.

Godzilla Minus One is available to watch on Netflix.