Godzilla Minus One

Godzilla -1.0 is a film about the tragedy of inaction and fear and the motivation that drives individuals to action and the ultimate sacrifice. The opposite of the cheerful American fooling around, made for relaxing entertainment I saw a few days ago. The Japanese open old wounds here, using a metaphor derived from the two nuclear bombs that Oppenheimer served up to the US military for quick use. Broken people slowly getting back on their feet after a lost war, only to be trampled by another disaster. Stunning destruction, backed by a roaring musical score, vivid characters where you care who survives and who doesn't. Surprisingly, the main character, a coward, lives. (02/05/2024)

Godzilla Minus One = Japanese Rambo II. Stallone’s all-American hero of his time nullified the historical wrongs of a lost war, admonished the illusory powerholders controlling a ruthless system and restored pride to veterans by enabling them to fight a winning battle for themselves, out of uniform. The Japanese just had to wait many more decades to do the same for themselves. In the hands of Yamazaki, the Japanese master of spectacular melodrama, the latest prequel/reboot/remake/whatever, simply another way to squeeze the last drop out of the brand, becomes such a crystal-clear resuscitation of classic formulas and kitschy emotions that even Top Gun: Maverick is green with envy. Whereas Tom Cruise successfully remained in the realm of functional pathos, Godzilla and its human fellow travellers spectacularly dive to the greatest depths of heavy-duty cringe. In the end, however, the supposed detached humour and derisive distance of the audience are purely illusory when you realise that you were royally entertained by this film, which by Hollywood standards is a low-budget showcase of embarrassingly exaggerated clichés and gaudy kitsch. ___ Nevertheless, the new film has a disturbing core that mirrors a basic principle of the rising conservatism in Japan and beyond, i.e. the need for an easy substitute lightning rod for negative emotions, as far removed as possible from the real pressing issues of the status quo. In Godzilla Minus One, we have a properly dehumanised and alien monster instead of the maximally humanised Godzilla/friend from the franchise’s cuddly era, which despite the would-be adult smartasses remains the franchise’s best, most entertaining and, mainly, most culturally mainstream phase. On the other hand, we can say that Godzilla shows itself to be a real timeless hero of Japan, because in the decades that it has spent at the top of Japanese pop culture, the lizard knows that hard times and wounded national pride sometimes don’t require the truth. Sometimes people deserve to be rewarded. And so, from time to time, the cute puppet has to put on some CGI armour and for a moment become the hero that the audience doesn’t deserve, but the one it needs. Because it can endure that. Because it’s not just a hero. It is a silent guardian and a watchful protector. Dark [insert Godzilla roar]. (11/01/2024)

The protagonist’s repetitive lamenting over trauma and remorse becomes boring over time, but the gloomy tone of Japan’s deteriorating position in the war brings a lot to the gigantic monster. Against a background of dark, foreboding music, Godzilla is a symbol of the horrors of war, including the devastating nuclear threat. The ocean scenes with the monster are excellent, with a build-up and ideas to make the most of its physiological capabilities. It is scary, angry and indestructible. The scenes with Godzilla in the city are only perfunctory, as if the filmmakers didn’t want to repeat what has already been seen a hundred times before (even in American monster movies) and instead wanted to retain the specific maritime nature of the story. The budget of $15 million for such high-quality CGI mayhem is unbelievable and the film’s success in American cinemas could signal a change in thinking among the Hollywood bean counters as to what a good movie needs and doesn’t need. In this respect, Godzilla Minus One is another “transformational phenomenon” of the year, much as Barbenheimer was. (13/12/2023)

On the occasion of his almost seventieth birthday, Gojira got a film that goes down well with the majority of the audience. That isn't a bad thing, but if you're expecting a procedural social critique like Shin Godzilla or over the top giant kaiju like in later Japanese works, you'll come away disappointed. A more fitting title would have been "how my post-war life was repeatedly affected by a monster" (the inspiration in the concept from the Godzilla comics: “Half Century War” is evident), because this time around it's stingy on Godzilla, he sort of plays third fiddle. When he does arrive, it's worth it (traditional design, origin and abilities, scale and action), but for most of its running time it's a tear-jerking melodrama about a kamikaze who failed in his duty and suffers from post-traumatic syndrome. He struggles to piece together a life in the ruins of Tokyo and a decimated post-war Japanese society that is also undergoing a fundamental transformation. Only that occasionally they (he and Japan) are shaken by Gojira's claw. Ironically, it's closer to the Pohlywood-ized kaiju variant on Jaws mixed with Pearl Harbor than to the previous Japanese Godzilla films (but the serious ones and the B-movie ones). Another installment is on the cards, but I'd personally prefer a sequel to Shin Godzilla. Perhaps as a satire on the Japanese government's bureaucratic mishandling of covid and the Olympics. (25/11/2023)

Gojira as a serious war drama? Yes, a return to the classic roots of the first two episodes. It's a terrible shame that most people associate the brand with Hollywood's Monsterverse, or that goofy Emmerich flick with Jean Reno that had nothing to do with Godzilla. They have no idea about the Godzilla phenomenon in the country of its origin, Japan, where TOHO has made a total of 29 feature films starring the overgrown lizard across six decades. Sure, the SHOWA era in the 50s and 60s in particular was very cringe, with Godzilla facing aliens and a monkey and making friends with a little Japanese boy. But this latest installment, essentially an homage, is a return to the rawness of the first two films from 1954 and 1955. Gojira is no pet this time, but a fierce creature happy to bite people in half and throw trains through the air. I was surprised by the screenwriting focus on human characters. Basically the entire first half doesn't leave the setting of the slums on the outskirts of Tokyo, dealing with a sort of small family micro-story, with a momentary detour to the sea, where the mines left behind are being fished out at the cost of their lives, only to have Godzilla start destroying the city after an hour or so, with a familiar musical theme from the TOHO films that brought a smile to my face. There are four action sequences in the film with each one getting better and better. It's unbelievable that this film cost less than Jákl’s Jan Žižka, yet it has the parameters of a big budget film, and by alternating the closed micro environments of one room with lavish CGI scenes, it very cleverly masks its budgetary constraints. Also, fans of the franchise will find references to old standbys, with Gojira's luminous shell playing a major role in this regard. There's also a noticeable sense of the lingering post-war and Hiroshima trauma of the Japanese in the film, just as you'd sense in the old films. It's a great homage, and if it is a reboot, I love it to. (04/12/2023)