What, a new Mothra? By new, my son meant one that wasn’t made in the 1960s. Together we watched this new Mothra. It was fantastically terrible, full of cheesy effects, stupid dialogue, hideous acting and gigantic plot holes. Still, there was something that fascinated us. The loud colors and craziness of the plot made us laugh and those adorable singing little princesses kept us glued to the screen. It was also the greatest of pleasures adding our own dialogue and commentary. We had rediscovered why we loved Mothra and all of her Japanese monster friends. Oh Mothra, how could we doubt you? My son and I sang the Mothra song right along with those two tiny princesses as the final credits rolled over the volcano on Monster Island.