I read this interesting thinkpiece lately over on (I think) the AV Club that pointed out that there is a notable difference between Japanese and American Godzilla movies. An American Godzilla is just a giant monster, destructive but often heroic in his own way. Japanese Godzilla movies often use the big guy as a metaphor, particularly for whatever is happening in Japan at the time. The article made it clear that neither version is necessarily going to make for a better or worse movie. It’s just a difference in presentation.
I kept that in mind as I sat through Godzilla Minus One, a revamped origin story from Toho as part of a 70th anniversary special for the character that started off as a metaphor for nuclear war.
In the closing days of World War II, kamikaze pilot Kōichi (Ryunosuke Kamiki) decides not to go through with his suicide and lands his plane, claiming engine trouble, on a small island with a repair station on it. Though looked at with suspicion by some of the mechanics, his cowardice seems to be confirmed when a giant dinosaur-like monster, dubbed “Godzilla” by the island locals, attacks the outpost in the middle of the night, killing all but Kōichi and the head mechanic when Kōichi could have maybe killed the monster with the gun on his plane. Returning to a defeated Japan, Kōichi soon finds his parents dead and his neighbors resentful, but he does manage to build a make-shift family with a young woman named Noriko (Minami Hamabe) and the orphaned baby girl she managed to informally adopt.
But even as Kōichi starts to build a life for himself, Noriko, and the baby, something unexpected happens: American nuclear testing has mutated Godzilla into a larger, angrier, radioactive creature that starts making a beeline for Tokyo, smashing naval vessels along the way. The Americans won’t act due to fears of provoking the Soviets unnecessarily into an unwanted war. The Japanese government wants to keep things secret to prevent a panic. But when that big lizard comes onshore and begins smashing things while ignoring everything that hits him, Kōichi may have to act to save the family he’s built for himself, and that’s before Godzilla uses his radioactive fire breath. Can Kōichi find a way past his fears to help save the day from an otherwise unstoppable monster?
Now, Godzilla in many of the Japanese movies over the years have been a guy in a rubber suit stomping on miniature cities. This Godzilla is CGI, and he looks fantastic. He’s not quite as big (I think) as he was in other movies, but he’s also pretty scary on his own. This may be the first Japanese version of the character that was clearly stepping on people (unless there was some of that in Shin Godzilla that I just don’t recall). Regardless, this movie really seems to go a long way to emphasize Godzilla’s size. On land, he’s slow and ponderous, but his every step makes the ground shake. And when he does unleash the fire breath, well, the nuclear metaphor was maybe never so obvious. Factor in the classic theme music and the roar, and this is a Godzilla movie for longtime fans and newcomers.
As for the metaphor, there’s a lot going on here about trauma, the futility of war, and forgiveness as a necessary part of moving forward. Kōichi is clearly haunted by what happened to him, to the point where he can’t see his way to obvious happiness right in front of him. There’s a general disillusionment with the Japanese government after the way the war turned out, and for all that it was an American bomb that mutated Godzilla, they don’t care enough to actually clean up the mess. Factor in as well that Godzilla’s defeat is clearly something that could have come from 1940s technology, and I was left with a smart movie that actually made a giant lizard seem believable. Godzilla movies tend to focus more on the human characters, and the ones here work. Yes, there’s some sequel bait at the end, but if Toho can keep the quality at this level, I see no reason not to come back for new appearances by this version of Godzilla.
Grade: A-
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