I picked up this model kit on eBay, being a huge fan of Godzilla and all things kaiju. Having absolutely no idea what I was doing, I resolved to assemble and paint the model.
This post is advice from a novice for other novices. Unique, I know; typically, you want to get advice from people who know what the hell they’re doing. C’est la guerre.
Ingredients:
1. A sharp thing. I used an X-Acto knife. Cautiously. No injuries were sustained.
2. Model airplane glue. Generic, purchased at craft store with a coupon. Cheap.
3. Goggles and mask. No joke. Fumes from glue and paint are only fun for teenagers.
4. Dropcloth. Didn’t feel like getting paint all over the carpet. Two bucks.
5. Model supplies: Cheap paintbrushes, standard acrylic paints (seventy cents a bottle), a few plastic cups.
After that, I followed the directions in the box. Not too hard. Leg here, arm there, glue together.
Tough part was after assembling and gluing: I had to lop off little bits of plastic and sand them down. Can’t have those sticking out, it’s gauche. But too much lopping and sanding, and you lose the texture (in this case, Godzilla’s lumpy hide). So be careful with that part.
Above: Godzinnia, phase 1. She’s got a slender face, compared to the traditional Godzilla look, so I decided to make her a female and paint her like a zinnia. I don’t think that’s sexist. But maybe it is. Is it? Now I’m worried. Am I overanalyzing this? Maybe if I use a Georgia O’Keeffe painting as a reference… Is that pretentious?
Anyhow, when it comes to making Godzilla a female, I was definitely not inspired by that execrable American movie. False kaiju! Shame! Between that travesty, King Kong, and Cloverfield, the US has utterly sullied the giant-monster genre. Just thinking about it makes me want to put on a rubber suit and stomp through a three-foot-tall model city made out of carboard.
Godzinnia, phase 2. Started with black primer, added purple, lavender, metallic violet, red, hot pink, and orange. By this, I mean that I spraypainted the model black, then started in with other dark colors, like maroon and purple. For the most part, I just brushed them on haphazardly, sometimes painting on top of wet layers, so that the colors would blend a bit. Then came the dry-brushing of lighter colors.
Dry-brushing is something you can learn about on YouTube from people who ramble interminably about the process, dragging out a quick explanation into 20 minutes of chatter.
You take the thing that you’ve painted dark. In this case, Godzilla, but it could also be a plastic model of a building, or a spaceship, or whatever.
You dip the brush in light-colored paint. You wipe most of the paint off the brush, until you can barely see any paint when you drag the brush across paper. That’s when you’re ready to dry-brush.
You vigorously sweep the brush across the thing you’re painting. The goal is to scrub the object until the miniscule bits of paint on your brush are picked up by protrusions and ridges.
If you’re painting a castle, you paint it black, then get some grey paint on your brush, and you dry-brush the castle until that grey paint adheres to the bricks — but it won’t get into those cracks between the bricks, so you’ve got this nice depth. Another layer of white paint, and those bricks (and their still-dark cracks and crevices) are looking more realistic.
Same principle with Godzinnia. Her hide is dark purple, but the lumps and bumps are dry-brushed metallic violet, red, hot pink, and orange. Gives some depth to her.
Above: Godzinnia in the tub.
I did a metallic-purple wash, followed by a glossy red wash, and then a pink wash.
A wash is when you put your model in a tub of some kind, and then pour a little watered-down paint over it.
Mix the paint with water — a small glob of paint in a small cup of water — then dip your brush in the paint and dab the brush to the places where you want the paint to stream in little colored rivulets. The watered-down paint’s going to stream right off your model into the tub, but a little bit will collect on the plastic of your model.
Repeat. Again and again. As the paint dries, the residual color will begin to show faintly. Again, this is to create depth, so that your model’s coloring isn’t flat. You don’t want to overdo it; it’s an accent, not a new coat of paint.
Picture a model tank, or halftrack; you’ve got it painted olive, but you want some rust. Actually paint that rust on there, and it’ll look unnatural. Mix the rust-colored paint with water, let it drip and dry, and there’s just enough of it to look accurate — an accumulation of residue in the crevices (I just can’t use that phrase often enough).
Acrylic sealer is something that I spray over my painted model when I’ve reached a good stopping point. It allows the existing coats to dry. Forms a nice shellac-type finish. Don’t inhale the fumes. For Cthulhu’s sake, wear a filtration mask. And a prophylactic of some kind.
Above: her spines were fun. Godzilla’s spines have changed color a few times over the years. I figured to offset her purple-violet-orange skin, I’d go with a mix of cream and yellow for her spines. Took several layers of dry-brushing to get it where I wanted it.
Wound up giving her yellow eyes with green irises and blotchy black pupils. The acrylic sealer makes her coat shine!
The city was originally light green, but I coated it with a base of glossy black, then started with detail work.
Dry-brushed the city dark grey, then light grey, then added brown and bronze highlights before another light grey brushing, followed by a layer of white. Tried to give it a demolished, ashy look. A city in ruins.
As you can see, the original green plastic is visible through this cracked wall. I need to get in there with a small brush and paint the interior of that building black.
Finished! Godzinnia stomps over the city.
