To grow up with Godzilla was to recognize the nightmare possibilities of " the atomic age." But the most recent version, according to PNS commentator Patrick Macias, is rich in production values and woefully thin in understanding. Macias, who has seriously embraced the lizard's lessons, is on the staff of YO! (Youth Outlook), a publication by and about Bay Area youth produced by Pacific News Service.

The new American movie "Godzilla" has altered everything about my childhood idol. The slow and lumbering behemoth who leveled cities and exhaled atomic death rays has been given a high-tech Hollywood makeover. He has become quick and nimble, somewhat cowardly, cannot breath fire -- and is utterly devoid of the soul and charm that kept the original creature attractive for more than 40 years.

The Japanese conceived of Godzilla as a hibernating dinosaur, mutated and awakened by atomic testing. "A nightmare created out of the darkness of the human soul, " said the late Tomoyuki Tanaka, co-creator of the original Godzilla films.

Godzilla first appeared in 1954 in a movie that suggests all of us helped create this monster. The horrifying reality of Hiroshima and Nagasaki lurks just under the surface of every Godzilla adventure, even the most frivolous.

The saga itself is enormous in scope, encompassing political and social trends, Japanese and world history. Over the years Godzilla has become a good guy, raised a son -- and recently even returned to his evil ways. The movies are both special effects extravaganzas and a canvas of the post-nuclear landscape. They provide no clear conclusions.

We have endured the threat of the bomb -- only to inhabit an era of mutation and monsters. For those of us who grew up in an era when both Ronald Reagan and George Lucas were making "Star Wars" a reality, Godzilla films gave mass destruction a monstrous face. They were fun. They were weird. They were mythical.

And, boy, did I ever grow up believing it. To this day I'm a die-hard Godzillaphile, surrounded by collectibles, videotapes, and Godzillabilia.

This new film, expensive and glossy, can offer little more than a computer-generated lizard. The original Godzilla was a classic monster -- like Frankenstein and Dracula, eminently capable of both entertaining us imaginatively and giving us a glimpse of the darkness of the human soul.

How could something as ridiculous as the early Japanese monster movies ever be taken seriously -- with men in cheap rubber suits pulverizing balsa wood buildings, dubbed in ungrammatical English with titles like Godzilla Vs. the Smog Monster? Yet these films are rich in subtext and more than a just a little profound.

Now that India and Pakistan have brought the bomb roaring back to life this American Godzilla shows up with nothing to say. True, he's supposedly a mutant lizard created by French nukes, there's some talk of "responsibility," even a visit to Chernobyl, but the real source of this giant is Hollywood's blockbuster mentality, not good old nightmarish radioactivity.

With more than 20 classic Godzilla movies to draw from, the film makers inexplicably chose to pinch from Jurassic Park. This upstart Godzilla, like a cross between Speilberg's T-Rex and a garden variety iguana, runs on instinct and wants nothing more than a place to raise its young. Any damage to cities and their citizens is purely coincidental. He's seen fleeing from battle on more than one occasion -- it's the military that causes most of the damage this time, with wayward shells and missiles.

All of this is a far cry from the original Godzilla's raison d'etre: to punish modern man for unleashing the atom. So little of the essential character remains that it's hard to see why the movie is titled "Godzilla" in the first place.

Many people find the Japanese Godzilla films silly and hoary. But this American re-make exhibits far less creativity and wit. Hollywood has made a multi-million dollar B-movie with less ingenuity and intelligence than the older low budget films.

One good thing. Thanks to the new movie, the airwaves and video stores are filled with old Godzilla movies. And anyone disappointed by the new movie would do wise to check them out. For Godzilla is so humongous he can function both as kitsch and as "the sacred beast of the apocalypse." With the harsh reality of nuclear testing back on the geo-political table, the timing for a real giant monster to teach us a lesson or two couldn't be better.