Godzilla Minus One (2023)

[9]

I never knew a Godzilla movie could be this good. Writer/Director/VFX Supervisor Takashi Yamazaki reinvigorates the venerable franchise with a combination of terrific visual effects, exciting action sequences, and a surprisingly emotional storyline. The film is anchored by its lead actor, Ryunosuke Kamiki, playing a World War II kamikaze (suicide) pilot who, over the course of the film, finds a reason to live. Or two reasons, really: a woman (Minami Hamabe) and an infant. Neither of the three characters are related by blood. They all find one another in the chaotic aftermath of war — a sociopolitical nadir during which Godzilla decides to climb from the depths and metaphorically threaten the country for its sins.

Okay, I’m pulling out my gender studies soap box now.

When I saw that this movie was getting praise from many of my American male friends, I figured it must be due to great action and visual effects. From my experience, male audiences (shallow as we tend to be) seem to only acknowledge these more superficial aspects of a movie. Rarely do they talk about the story or the characters. So it was undoubtedly paramount that Yamazaki nail the action and effects to hook Godzilla Minus One‘s audience. But I dare say that’s not what kept them in their seats or made them fall in love with the film.

Men are identifying with Godzilla Minus One in a way they are increasingly unable to do with American studio films. I think this film’s main character speaks to the American male audience at a particularly salient time, when (controversy ahead!) Hollywood has launched a politically and financially incentivized crusade to suppress traditionally masculine values and recast legacy male characters with female actors. I would even go so far as to say that some studios (cough, Disney, cough) actively alienate their male fan bases through news and social media to justify certain films’ financial and critical failures (a topic for another day).

I believe in representation of all people in the movies. Lord knows I appreciate when a gay male character is treated respectfully or seen for the human being he is. And something indeed needed to be done to improve the quality and number of female roles in Hollywood films. But at a certain point, diversity casting and inclusion feels like insincere, reverse tokenism. The pendulum has swung too far. I think the appeal of Godzilla Minus One confirms my suspicion. American men respond to Kimiki’s guilt and desire to do an honorable thing, to feel wanted and needed — even if it comes to self sacrifice. Star Wars: The Last Jedi (a film I need to reassess on this site) had two similar male characters and opted to essentially castrate them of utility or self-fulfillment.

Kimiki’s character in Godzilla Minus One is given the chance to be a real hero. Not a shallow one, not one simply handed the mantle in the name of equity. His character is wrecked by trauma and it requires a tremendously emotional effort of will for him to pick up that mantle. Unlike many Hollywood characters (The Last Jedi‘s Rey Skywalker in particular), he earns the title. He earns the nobility and the bittersweet opportunity of self-sacrifice. The third act of Godzilla Minus One is fueled by the question of whether or not Kimiki should live or die to preserve a future for his surrogate daughter. The way the film answers this question dances victorious circles around The Last Jedi‘s socio-political namby-pambying and delivers an ending with a powerfully emotional impact that, whether it advances a political narrative or not, clearly resonates with audiences. I would argue the ending is equally traditional and progressive — something I especially love about this movie in our current political climate.

I should also point out that Godzilla Minus One is not by any means saying self-sacrifice is the domain of men alone. Minami Hamabe’s character has her moment — but no spoilers here.

Putting the gender studies soap box away now.

On top of a solid script with a strong lead character and compelling, emotional stakes, Godzilla Minus One delivers the visceral goods. The visual effects are very good overall, remarkably performed by a small team of just 35 artists, rather than the 1,000+ names we see in a typical Hollywood summer blockbuster these days. (Hollywood can learn from this movie in so many ways. Truly.) Action scenes are well staged, and several shots manage to conjure a genuine feeling of awe. There are a few dramatic scenes that teeter on melodramatic, and a dash of serendipity in the plotting, but Godzilla Minus One does so much exceedingly well, I can easily overlook these moments.

I also want to single out the score here, perhaps my favorite in ten years or so. The score by Naoki Sato is one of the most effective ones in recent memories, offering a mix of contemplative and elegiac cues that resonate with me the same way soundtracks did in the ’80s and ’90s (but rarely since then). Sato, to my mind, is clearly paying homage to Henryk Górecki’s Symphony of Powerful Songs after Godzilla annihilates the city of Ginza at the movies’ mid-point — echoing one of my favorite compositions ever. Sato also makes sparing but most-welcome use of Akira Ifukube’s original 1956 Godzilla theme — a march that never fails to leave me drumming along in my seat.