Godzilla Minus One

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. (2023-12-13)

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]. (2024-01-11)

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. (2023-11-25)

This year, it seems to me that perhaps all the films around which there is general hype seem to be slightly above average at best, and Japan's Godzilla -1.0 is another one of those. As long as it deals with the intimate fates of individuals in post-war Japan and the lizard is only seen in waves, it's fine. Once the lizard makes landfall, the Japanese get a chance to use their over-the-top acting, and the characters start hatching crazy plans, but it in the end it turns that the lizard is enough (... well, you'll see), so it goes down the tubes, at least for me. I can appreciate how it looks given its budget, but I can't enjoy it authentically. (2023-12-23)

World War II is over, but Japan is far from finished, for a gigantic monster is approaching its shores. Will it be stopped, or will it make the decimated country fall to the bottom? Godzilla -1.0 is a showcase of great-looking destruction, functional pathos and slightly over-the-top Japanese acting. All in all, though, it's an easily watchable film even for a European, the makers of which have enough enthusiasm, ideas and respect for the original films to make those two hours in the cinema a great time. (2023-12-02)