Me and Godzilla? We go way back.
Growing up in Westchester, NY, each summer I would eagerly
look forward to WPIX 11’s annual “Godzillathon,” which promised a weeklong
celebration of The King of the Monsters and his titanic assemblage of enemies
and allies, including Mothra, Mechagodzilla, Rodan, King Ghidorah and a giant
crustacean named Ebirah, to whom I can easily attribute my lifelong affinity
for lobster. I would tape 4-hour stretches of the marathon on VHS and obsess
over them … although if I’m being honest, I would mostly fast-forward to the
monster fights and skip the human stuff.
Looking back, I wouldn’t say I’ve necessarily carried that
immense love of Godzilla to my adult life. I have an immense appreciation for
the classic and haunting 1954 original Gojira, I made the 1998 Roland
Emerich film my personality for at least a month that summer – thanks in no
small part to its incredible soundtrack and not much else – and I’ve had a
complicated relationship with the current run of American Godzilla
films. I’ve added some of the Bandai and Super 7 figures to my collection, sure,
but if someone were to grill me on the ins and outs of The Heisei Era, I would
be at a loss.
But something happened when I saw the trailer for the first
time a few weeks ago. This looked FRESH. This looked INTENSE. This looked MUST
SEE. So, I linked up with a fellow kaiju-curious buddy and ventured out on a
cold December evening to absorb Godzilla Minus One and to see if it lived
up to the monstrous hype. And … man. This Godzilla Minus One movie is
SPECTACULAR. And it’s sad. And I also can’t stop thinking about it one
week later.
Directed by Takashi Yamazaki, Godzilla Minus One is a
new beginning for The King of the Monsters set in the wake of World War II as a
survivor’s guilt-ridden kamikaze pilot named Kōichi Shikishima (Ryunosuke
Kamiki) struggles to rebuild his life in war-torn Japan. His internal conflict
is magnified by external forces, as an unkillable creature known to locals as
Godzilla emerges and begins destroying U.S. warships en route to Japan. Kōichi and
his found family are pitted against this unspeakable horror as they fight to
defend their homeland against further obliteration.
What immediately struck me about Godzilla Minus One is
that it owes as much to Steven Spielberg’s Jaws as it does to the
70-year canon of Godzilla films. It’s hard not to compare Kōichi’s new
friends on a minesweeping boat to the crew of the Orca, nor is it a
stretch to think of Chief Brody when our heroes were trying to trick Godzilla
into catching maritime mines in his mouth so they can shoot them and make them
explode in his maw. There is also a satisfying emphasis on suspense, a touching
human story, humor that doesn’t feel forced, and some heart-wrenching character
moments that make Godzilla Minus One feel like classic Spielberg in the
best way possible.
Let’s talk about The Big Guy. At a meager budget of just $15
million, Godzilla is stunningly rendered in CGI that looks better than most major
U.S. studio films released this year. His immense scale is felt throughout, and
each time he uses his heat ray is suitably terrifying, as it carries with it the
force of an atomic bomb. If you can, see Godzilla Minus One on the biggest
screen possible. Streaming on TV won’t do the raw ferocity of this new Godzilla
justice.
Godzilla Minus One is the first Godzilla movie I have seen as an adult that has absolutely blown me away, and I hope Toho continues this story with more
films and more monsters.
