Godzilla Minus One (ゴジラ-1.0) (2023)

directed by Takashi Yamazaki
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
52-week film challenge, film 47

This remake of the first Godzilla film from 1954 (my review of that one is here) is a really clever reimagining that turns the perspective around: the focus here is on the human beings affected by the monster, rather than the monster itself. It makes brilliant sense in that the original really showed off the effects, but the new one looks at this phenomenon from a completely different angle.

I certainly did not expect a Godzilla movie to be this emotional, nor did I expect it to be entirely in Japanese with English subtitles in North American cinemas (nice touch). I find it fascinating that 37 films in — with multiple “reboots” from both Toho and Legendary Pictures — they found something new to say about kaiju generally, and yet also reiterate the original’s analogy to nuclear war.

Furthermore, I was completely gobsmacked when I discovered that the budget for this shot-in-the-arm epic was a mere $15 million — there are some films that exist where the catering bill for the shoot was around that amount!

I have, of course, seen quite a number of Godzilla movies over the years, though I largely haven’t seen the post-2000 comeback films. Growing up, Godzilla movies were fun and cheesy, and you (or at least I) never paid a moment’s attention to who was in those (model) ships, tanks, and buildings the monster trashed like the cheap paper maché they were. I also watched TV shows inspired by those movies, including “Ultraman,” a particular favourite.

Godzilla looks so “smol” in the 1954 original. Inflation, I guess, whatcha gonna do?

The genius of writer, director, and visual effects chief Takashi Yamazaki is in putting the emotions and the people up front in this version, with the title character itself getting a fair amount of screen time, but only very rarely being the focus. He even explains both why Godzilla keeps coming back, and why he’s so gigantic and “Hulk-like” compared to his first appearance.

That said, the vast majority of the time spent here is on the humans, specifically telling the story of Kōichi Shikishima (Ryunosuke Kamiki), a kamikaze pilot near the end of World War II — when the outcome was no longer in doubt — who chickens out, and feigns engine trouble and lands on Odo Island. That night, Godzilla emerges and attacks the base. Shikishima gets into the plane, but cannot muster up the courage to shoot at the dinosaur-sized monster.

He survives to find only one other survivor, Tachibana (Munetaka Aoki), who blames Shikishima for the deaths of the other men. A year later (1946), he returns home and learns that his parents were also killed by Allied bombers. He meets a woman named Noriko (Minami Hamabe) who is taking care of an orphaned baby named Akiko (Sae Nagatani) that she has rescued.

As he is suffering from survivor’s guilt, he takes care of Noriko and Akiko, forming a sort of family. Although all three clearly care for each other, it is not made explicitly clear if Shikishima and Noriko actually became romantic partners.

Meanwhile, Godzilla gains his gigantic size and atomic powers via the US military’s nuclear testing in Bikini Atoll. The enlarged and super-powered monster attacks the ships, and then heads towards Japan.

By mid-1947, Shikishima has had some success in a dangerous but well-paying job, aboard a ship clearing mines left by the US around Japan. Authorities, which have been tracking Godzilla’s slow approach to Japan, order the minesweeper try and delay Godzilla’s approach so that more powerful ships can get there.

Cleverly, the shipmates use a mine and manage to release one that explodes in Godzilla’s mouth — which does some actual damage — but the creature can seemingly regenerate from injuries. A heavy cruiser arrives just in time, but is destroyed when Godzilla shows off its new power of atomic breath.

Of course, Shikishima is re-traumatized by the return of Godzilla, now enomous and unstoppable. Godzilla eventually reaches Japan, and attacks the city of Ginza. After tanks engage Godzilla, it again employs its atomic breath, destroying the city and seemingly killing Noriko after she saves Shikishima. He is yet again re-traumatized by this loss.

Since neither the US nor Russia will help because of tensions between the two, the Japanese government essentially gives up and does nothing. One of the minesweeper’s crew, Kenji Noda (Hidetaka Yoshioka), assembles a team and comes up with a plan to destroy Godzilla, using a small group of former Navy veterans — including Shikishima — and some disused Navy carriers to carry out the plan.

Unbeknowst to the others, Shikishima has finally been pushed too far, and plots his own revenge on Godzilla, that will presumably cost him his life. He makes arrangements for the care of Akiko with neighbour Sumiko (Sakura Ando), and pretends to cooperate with Nodi’s plan.

And like a good neighbour, Sumiko is there …

That sets up Act 3, and I don’t want to go into the plot any further because the movie is still playing in cinemas as I write this, except to say that some good twists ensue as the group bravely takes on Godzilla and Shikishima seeks revenge and redemption.

I, at least, was surprised by the finale as well as the final scene. I was also utterly delighted by some surprise callbacks to the original film.

Noriko sees Godzilla for the first time, shortly before she is swept away.

I was downright shocked by how engaged I was with the emphasis on the people affected by these events, and how right this alternative approach felt, viewing it from my cinema seat in a world where Godzilla is a stuffed toy with a very long history (and, as mentioned, an ongoing successful franchise for Toho).

70 years on from the original film, the monster itself can still elicit nostalgia and appreciation, but going back to its roots from a very fresh angle has given Godzilla Minus One something new: emotional connections with its audience beyond a general fandom. I’m not sure if this approach would work repeatedly, but it has certainly injected some fresh blood (sorry) into a franchise that had become cliché.

Godzilla ゴジラ (1954, dir. Ishiro Hōnda)

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️½
52-week film challenge, film 32

I don’t think I’ve ever seen the full Japanese version of Godzilla before, certainly not as an adult, but of course I’ve seen the Americanised “Raymond Burr” version — Godzilla: King of the Monsters! — a time or 10. Like many people, I climbed aboard the kaiju train as a kid, when all these great monster movies started showing up on TV on the weekends, so I caught most of them back then. TV stations at the time of course tended to show the later colour films which were more aimed at kids, so I don’t think I’ve even gotten around to seeing Godzilla Raids Again (1955) either, a grievous mistake that should be corrected soon.

The first Godzilla is most definitely not a kid’s movie: it is a lightly-abstracted but still powerful statement on the horrors of nuclear weapons, and a philosophical exercise pondering where Japan (and the world) goes from here. In this film, Godzilla is the spawn of the atomic bomb — and wreaks similar terror on Tokyo as the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki did, with incredible loss of life and property.

When the film was made, postwar Japan was still wrestling with the consequences of its own actions in WWII, just eight years earlier, as well as the devastating and overwhelming American response, which was to destroy entire cities full of innocent civilians (about a quarter million in total) — the greatest act of deliberate mass-murder had seen at the time, until the full horror of the Holocaust was revealed. The Godzilla creature in this first movie was intended to be seen as an utterly terrifying and unstoppable force, even though even I have to admit the face they gave it is … unintentionally kind of cute.

Hi kids! It’s your old pal, Godzilla! Don’t do drugs, and stay in school! See ya later!

The B&W cinematography of Godzilla is terrific, and the cast are first-rate: from venerated actor Takashi Shimura (best known as the leader of The Seven Samurai, but also featured in Roshomon, Ikiru, Yojimbo, The Hidden Fortress and many more classic films, here playing the pacifist scientist Kyohei Yamane) to relative newcomer Akira Takarada (playing the hero role of Ogata), Akihiko Hirata as the anti-hero scientist Serizawa, and the radiant Momoko Kôchi as Emiko Yamane, Kyohei’s daughter — a role she reprised in her last film, 1995’s Godzilla vs. Destroyah. All the players, from the greatest to the smallest roles, are played with deep conviction and seriousness.

I will take an indulgent moment here to note my deep fondness for the fashion of the 1950s — everyone in the film looks fantastic, with the men in suits or lab coats, police and military in sharp uniforms, and Emiko in fashionable garments of the time, with everyone looking smart and well-groomed. It’s a reminder of one element of the world gone by I wish would make a comeback, even as I myself fail to adhere to it.

(L-R) Emiko, Dr Serazawa, Dr Yamane, Ogata

The compositing in the film should also be noted, as it is considerably above-average for the time. I caught only one moment in the film where the effect wobbled a bit — some power-line fortifications meant to stop Godzilla — but was otherwise nearly flawless. The moment when Godzilla’s head pops up over a mountain being approached by scientists is a perfect example: though it might be seen as amusing now, it was undoubtedly surprising and convincing in showing Godzilla’s scale early on in the film.

The analogy of the war that had recently devastated Japan couldn’t be more clear: while the authorities work feverishly to stop this new threat (also featuring lots of scenes of how Japan has rebuilt its civil defenses), nothing is effective against Godzilla. Dr Yamane is the lone voice calling for a less militaristic approach and for studying the creature, but doesn’t really have an answer on how to balance his wishes against the safety of the population. Emiko discovers that her other admirer, Serizawa, may have a way to stop Godzilla — but is too scared to use it, lest the secret of his super-destructive weapon fall into the wrong (or anyone else’s) hands.

This film has a lot of tension and conflict in it, with no comedic elements at all, and a lovely slow buildup of the conflict. Godzilla first attacks some ships at sea while remaining hidden underwater, eventually emerges to wreak havoc on land, and with no effective defense, the country is helpless as many are killed or injured (the scenes of attack survivors in hospital are pretty heart-rending), unveiling not only huge size and strength, but also “atomic breath” that incinerates everything on contact (oh wait, now I get it — Godzilla is the US!).

Emiko and her true love interest Ogata eventually convince the very conflicted Serizawa to use his “Oxygen Destroyer” technology to attack Godzilla underwater (also killing all sea life in the area), but you can see where the film is going from here — there is no solution without great tragedy and wasted opportunities. In the end (in real life, not the film), the point of view of Dr Yamane won out — Japan today strongly embraces nuclear power for its energy needs, but has shunned becoming a nuclear (weapon) power as you might expect, despite being surrounded by countries that do have nukes.

This film, thought of today as the start of the “giant monster movie” genre, was so powerful and effective in its analogy that it may well have helped convince the west to avoid using atomic weapons thereafter. The original Japanese version of Godzilla is a much darker, more thoughtful, and overall deeper film than the lighter, more entertaining genre it spawned, and was undoubtedly effective on both sides of the Pacific in its day. It was a serious attempt to illustrate the terror of atomic weapons — which thankfully haven’t been used since, though the world is still plagued with senseless wars.