'Godzilla Minus One' Review: A Blueprint for Better Blockbusters
monster movie made me cry
… wow.
I’m trying, and failing, to forge a better lede, to eloquently string together a series of words that more accurately and affectionately articulate my thoughts about Godzilla Minus One, but after scouring my brain for hours, I don’t think there’s a better summarization than one single word.
And that word is wow.
I loved this movie. I was stunned. Floored. Other synonyms. It was simply incredible; not only is this one of the strongest Godzilla films of all time — it’s one of my favorite movies of the year. I’ve seen some suggest that this film is a dark horse to be nominated for Best International Feature Film at next year’s Academy Awards, but I’d seriously consider giving it my vote for Best Picture (if I had one, of course).
I’ve seen several Godzilla films throughout my life. They’re a guilty pleasure of mine, at their best serving as effective allegorical commentaries about the futility of war, and at their worst being satiable popcorn schlock. Godzilla Minus One is more than this; it’s a character piece about a man struggling with survivor’s guilt, a person who must combat these ever-looming and invasive emotions and provide for those around him as a colossal dinosaur-like atrocity threatens to further devastate Japan in the years immediately following World War II.
Given this short description, it feels odd to suggest that this movie gave me hope… but it did. I left my screening feeling encouraged about cinema; blockbuster films, more specifically. Amid the current glutton of cookie-cutter, CGI-ridden tentpoles with ballooned budgets and little to say, I truly believe that Godzilla Minus One can provide a blueprint for better blockbusters.
Now it’s up to the film industry to follow it.
Godzilla Minus One centers around Kōichi Shikishima, a kamikaze pilot who fled his post in the waning days of World War II. His abandonment is framed as an extreme insult to his country, a disgrace that resulted in the deaths of thousands and, more broadly, the state that Japan found itself in following the global conflict.
Shikishima himself believes this, more directly feeling responsible for the deaths of hundreds of mechanics on Odo Island. I’ll avoid entering spoiler territory… but it’s a Godzilla movie. You probably have a decent idea of what happens.
Shikishima spends the entire film weighing these emotions, battling them as he very literally backs into a familial dynamic with an air raid survivor named Noriko Ōishi and a child named Akiko.
The film is at its strongest (a peak it maintains for much of its 125-minute runtime) when it explores this relationship and how Shikishima’s guilt impedes it. The movie’s other characters are also endearing and likable; more specifically, Shikishima’s work colleagues are well-defined and affable, with their group dynamic and individual relationships with our protagonist giving the film its unexpectedly large heart.
This movie, steered by a powerhouse performance from Ryunosuke Kamiki as Shikishima that I seriously hope garners awards consideration, works as a character study about a broken man forced to readjust to reality following war. You occasionally forget this is a Godzilla movie in the best possible way.
When the film does showcase Godzilla, however, it delivers. Its pure scale is awesome; Godzilla is framed as a larger-than-life, unstoppable antagonist with no motive other than destruction, and you feel that on screen. This is the first Godzilla movie I have ever seen in a theater that made me upset to see Godzilla.
I didn’t want to see any more destruction. More chaos. I didn’t want to see these characters that I had grown to adore endure any more heartache.
Godzilla simply looks incredible, as well. It’s not my favorite design of the monster, but it fits in this film; he looks like an abomination, like a terrifying, uncontrollable foe that’s quite simply too mammoth to stop.
The CGI is generally fantastic, say for a few scenes with comparatively lackluster visuals that admittedly look no worse than the worst effects seen in The Marvels or The Flash. The set design is immersive and sound design layered; you feel like you’re in Tokyo alongside these characters, making Godzilla’s occasional rampages that much more impactful.
Godzilla Minus One is simply one of the best films I’ve seen this year and certainly one of the stronger blockbusters I’ve seen in recent memory. It delivers impressive scale alongside an emotionally impactful character-driven story fueled by exceptionally strong performances across the board.
And the kicker?
It only cost $15 million to make.
I understand that the differences between the Japanese and American film industries are as structural as they are cultural, but at the end of the day, a budget is a budget.
Godzilla Minus One provided stronger visuals, more nuance, and simply made me feel more with its $15 million than The Marvels did with its $200+ million, or Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny did with its $300 million.
Hollywood has reached the unfortunate place where the median blockbuster has a $150+ million budget and exists only to capitalize on a known intellectual property and turn a quick buck. This has resulted in consistently underwhelming box-office returns that, more often than not, leave studios scratching their heads.
The problem seems obvious to an outsider — the more money a studio allocates to a single film, the longer that movie’s road to potential profitability becomes. Throw in the fact that these blockbusters are generally milquetoast with little rewatch value, and the issue is clear: studios are constructing Mount Everest in front of themselves and wondering why they can’t climb it in a day.
Godzilla Minus One, though again crafted in a different system, differs from the typical blockbuster in that it prioritizes character and story over visuals and feigned scale. The result is a film that’s infinitely more enjoyable, memorable, and rewatchable than the typical tentpole made for a fraction of the cost.
I sincerely hope that Hollywood takes notice of the accomplishment that is Godzilla Minus One. Very rarely is there only one solution to a problem, but spending less money on individual movies and placing more focus on character and story seems to be one potential fix to the contemporary box office woes. People want to watch — and rewatch — good films; combine this with a lower cost-to-produce, and the formula seems favorable.
20th Century Studios partly tried its hand at this earlier this year with The Creator, a character and relationship-focused sci-fi film with incredibly impressive visuals that cost only $80 million to produce. The movie didn’t stun at the box office, earning just over $100 million worldwide, but that’s at least stomachable given the comparatively low budget.
The Creator showed that studios are willing to flirt with the blueprint. I truly think Godzilla Minus One perfected it.
Will this end up being the case? Probably not. I’m sure moviegoers will continue to be flooded with derivative blockbusters with exorbitant budgets that make little impact.
But at least we’ll still have Godzilla Minus One, a remarkable feat that somehow succeeds more as a film than it does a “Godzilla film.”
rating: 4.5/5 mediazones
