GODZILLA: MINUS ONE returns to the original, post-war iteration of the iconic kaiju. Not with the special effects that bring the mountainous monster to life, but rather with the zeitgeist of those times fueled by the sense of futility over the war just lost, and the conviction that the government had betrayed its people. As is to be expected, Godzilla wreaks havoc and cuts a wide swath of destruction through Tokyo, but the film by Takashi Yamazaki is centered on people coming to grips with the after-effects of a lost war, using Godzilla as a metaphor and manifestation of the angst afflicting a devastated population. Instead of the noir-esque black-and-white of the original, though, we are treated to the saturated color of the period films, all the better to enjoy the blue-light Godzilla emits when revving up for the kill.
We are in the last days of World War II when a kamikaze pilot, Koichi Shikishima (Ryunosuke Kamiki) develops mechanical problems with his aircraft. Landing at the military outpost on Odo Island for repairs, he is confronted by something much worse than the prospect of committing suicide for his country. That would be the ancient creature that stalks out of the ocean. Instead of using is plane’s artillery to stop it, he freezes, leading to the death of almost everyone else at the outpost, and saddling him with the sort of survivor’s guilt that will prohibit a return to life as he knew it when Japan surrenders.
Not that he is left on the sidelines. A chance encounter with a thief (Minami Hamabe) struggling to survive in the ruins of Tokyo gifts him with an instant family. The thief, Noriko, is a plucky young woman orphaned by the war is caring for an infant given to her by the child’s dying mother. Together they band together to cope with a post-war economy in shreds, living in the ruins of Koichi’s home where his parents burned to death, and under the angry scrutiny of the only surviving neighbor (Sakura Ando) who blames Koichi for the deaths of her children because he did not do his job in the war properly.
Godzilla doesn’t return again until the atomic tests on the Bikini Atoll in 1946, when the creature awakens, bigger, meaner, and more weaponized than ever. During this time, Koichi has settled into a platonic domestic routine with Noriko and baby Akika, and he’s finally found a job that can allow them to rebuild their lives. This being a gloss on the lingering aftereffects of war, it’s a job clearing the tens of thousands of mines left behind by both sides in the ocean surrounding Japan. It’s dangerous work, but not fatal. His crewmates are an ex-sailor (Kuranosuke Sasaki) with a profound contempt for government orders, a former Naval engineer (Hidetaka Yoshioka) with a frothy hairstyle and a lighthearted spirit that hides his true feelings, and a young man (Munetaka Aoki) who despairs that he was not able to fight for his country.
When Godzilla makes a bee-line for Tokyo, the government once again falls short of protecting its citizens, and the tiny boat tasked with safely detonating mines finds itself in the center of the battle to save Japan. This, too, is a metaphor as Yamazaki spins a tale of selflessness and cooperation while also delivering a damning manifesto against violence in the way Godzilla reacts to the weapons used against him. They just makes him more powerful. Special kudos to the way the spikes on his back glow and then, ahem, stiffen as he prepares to unleash his oral heat ray of destruction, and how the effects folk acknowledge that a creature that large will move with deliberation, but not alacrity on land. The action sequences are expertly directed to keep you one the edge of your seat, and the solution to the Godzilla problem is not just in keeping with the film’s anti-violence stance, but is also a nifty bit of science. Real nifty.
Sure, the big guy is impressive to watch, tossing battleships like javelins and, of course, ravaging Tokyo, but the real action is people recovering from the traumas, collective and individual, of the war. Kamiki is just as impressive as any of the special effects with a performance of depth, tenderness, and pathos. He is also a man of exceptional beauty, which adds to the metaphors at work, pitting the beauty of life against sacrifices both meaningless and heroic. And it makes his defensive cruelty to those closest to him all the more poignant.
GODZILLA MINUS ONE is one of the more effective anti-war films, even before the kid complains that he’s never seen battle and is told that it’s something of which he should be proud, Yamazaki makes his case that fighting to the death is nothing compared to fighting for the future. Wise words and a film as weighty and entertaining as Godzilla himself.
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