Godzilla

Judge me if you want, but Gareth Edwards’s new take on Godzilla may just be my favorite summer 2014 blockbuster. This version of Godzilla does not make the same mistakes that 1998 abomination did; instead, it defers and refers to Ishiro Honda’s masterpiece. 2014 also just so happens to be the 60th anniversary of the original film, so it was probably in the best interest to attach itself to that film, however elliptically it goes about it. But what lingers in mind about this version of Godzilla are the same things which makes the original a still vibrant and intelligent monster movie – a focus on man’s helplessness in the face of ecological forces greater than us, the folly of our nuclear weapons, the possibly misplaced security we have in our military-industrial complex. This is a summer blockbuster with a bit of brains and consequences for its scenes of violence and destruction.

Compare Godzilla’s almost poetic scenes of carnage and half-viewed chaos to the meaningless spectacle of The Amazing Spider-Man 2’s many problems into sharper contrast. After having viewed Spider-Man, I could barely tell you what any of the action scenes looked like or why they mattered (except for one at the very end), because they, largely, didn’t truly matter or advance the story. Godzilla does not operate under this system of more is more, preferring instead to take plenty of time in-between to develop a quiet unease, slowly building us up to the last thirty minutes in which Godzilla and the two other creatures have it out across San Francisco.

I can close my eyes and remember the first appearance of the MUTOs, or Godzilla’s first full reveal, or the teases of the large protruding scales on his back breaking the waves. Edwards smartly rolls them out in waves, recalling the reoccurring visual of seismic activity. A scene which features American troopers parachuting down in a desperate attempt to annihilate all three of the monsters with a nuclear warhead is featured in the trailers, but they don’t do the full scenes majesty any justice. As we fall back towards earth, we glimpse everything from their point-of-view, so we can only glimpse in tiny detail the destruction and violence that these monsters are leveling upon the city. Edwards has put humans and humanity back into the spectacle, borrowing this trick from the original Godzilla. (The segment that sticks with me the most about the original is a frantic woman’s screams to her children to remain calm in the face of death, for they shall reunite with their father.)

Granted, much like the original, this version of Godzilla is thin on fully realized characters, but Edwards has also assembled a tony cast to deliver this material. Bryan Cranston, Juliette Binoche, Sally Hawkins, and David Strathairn have little to do, but they bring their distinct personalities to these archetypes and sell the hell out of the material. Ken Watanabe fares better as man who has spent his entire life obsessing over the prospect that Godzilla may exist, and is the lone voice in the film who will say aloud that we are powerless to stop him, no more than ants to him.

Those going in expecting an outlandish star presence in the central role will be sorely disappointed. In a less intelligent film, the lead role would go to a Tom Cruise or Will Smith type, an actor who has built his career on being extraordinary. They would entire the frame and all of our fears about survival would fade away, because we know that they’re capable of leading us toward salvation, get the girl, and land a few trailer-worthy quotables. Aaron Taylor-Johnson gives a solid performance, but he doesn’t have leading man charisma, which makes his everyman character more believable. He also establishes a nice rapport and believable relationship with Elizabeth Olsen in their brief scenes together.

And I will concede that Godzilla does have its fair share of stupid plot points and dumb images, but that is common territory for a big summer popcorn film. But how many of those other films will be this somber? Godzilla positions us as ineffective to the magisterial strength and frightening indifference that natural disasters cause. This Godzilla picks right up where the original’s atomic anxiety left off, and adds in fresher doomsday potentialities – climate change imagery, pursuit of new weaponry, the search of the God particle. What other film would feature an image of men falling from the sky like heaven crying red tears, and then end the film with a shot that’s both menacing and serene? There is no triumph here, only a reminder that we’re not as big and powerful as we think we are. Before a prehistoric beast, we are but helpless and hopeless gnats.