Godzilla Minus One: Proof that Less is More

A non-spoiler review from a lifelong kaiju nerd

Family Mart Godzilla coffee cup. Photo by Author.

The glare of the actor’s skin blinds me with the gleam of sweat on their overly made-up faces. They screamed and fled before a man in a giant rubber monster suit knocking over cardboard buildings.

7 year old me was glued to the screen. From that fateful moment, I watched every single Godzilla movie ever made. I know most of them aren’t “good” movies, and I don’t care. The nostalgia they stir in me brings with it a sort of warm, safe, feeling from my childhood.

So when I heard that Japan was making a new Godzilla movie, I forced my wife to go with me (read: bribed with ramen). I also wanted to fill my ego with the knowledge that I could see it here in Japan before anyone else around the world could.

See it I did. Impressed I was.

I won’t give any plot details so as not to spoil it, but to sum it up: where the recent American versions go all in with loud noises, bloated CG budgets, and cringe humor; the Japanese-made Godzilla Minus One cuts all that, and it works well for making a scary, tense, and poignant film.

By the end, both my wife and I were on the verge of tears. Not because we have some weird giant monster love (no more than the average human should), it was because we had just seen a heartfelt, soulful movie.

Who would have guessed that a giant radioactive lizard could pull the heartstrings so.

Humans we can care about

The recent American movies had one common thing that made them all barely watchable: the humans sucked.

There is a lot of forced family drama and jokes that fall flat. With Minus One, the characters seem like real people, and when real people’s lives are at stake, the audience cares.

Set in the days after World War II, the main character is a kamikaze pilot named Kōichi Shikishima, played by Ryunosuke Kamiki.

The film follows Kōichi’s attempt to rebuild his life from the fallout of the war. He has a personal vendetta against the giant monster, but more so, he has a deep hatred for himself.

I can’t say more than that for fear that you all would atomize me for ruining the experience for yourselves.

What I can say is that following Kōichi’s character arc, along with the supporting actors, makes for a complete story even if you were to take the monster out of it.

The acting is at times too expressive. This is common with Japanese dramas, where characters need to show their emotions overtly. Similar to Kabuki of old, it looks like they’re trying to emote for the people in the back of the theater, not realizing that we can all see the pores of their faces.

Despite a few excessive scenes, the cast does an amazing job of actually playing characters realistically and in a way we can be invested in.

Godzilla beer! In Okinawa. I told you I’m obsessed with Godzilla right? Photo by Author.

A monster that terrifies

The American movies frame Godzilla as a hero. As if a monster that makes us look like ants could take our lives seriously. What you get is some kind of big cartoon in live action, with human cheerleaders screaming on Godzilla from the sidelines.

Many of the older Japanese movies do the same, making the lizard the hero of Japan. Other kaiju movies, such as Gamera, do similar things with the radioactive turtle monster caring for a group of children.

Minus One goes back to the roots of Godzilla, and those roots are horror.

Godzilla was originally a metaphor for the dangers of nuclear power. The first movie, titled simply Godzilla, was released in 1954, only 9 years after the very real horrors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki had occurred.

The reckless destructive force, uncaring of human life, was nearly unstoppable until the remnant of mankind learned to come together and figure it out.

Very few of the monster movies since touched a horror nerve. An exception would be 2016’s Shin Godzilla. Minus One though, ratchets up the tension to unbearable degrees. The monster in this movie couldn’t possibly care less for human life. Godzilla isn’t necessarily portrayed as evil, but more as a powerful animal driven mad by radiation poisoning.

There are a few scenes in the movie where silence takes hold for more than a few uncomfortable moments as the characters’ fates lie inches away from possible death. And the way this movie crafts its tension makes you care about their survival.

A story that takes itself seriously

There are no bumbling sidekicks or gags to be found here. In the 2019 American Godzilla: King of Monsters there are too many to be found. One character, in looking at the beast for the first time, says “oh my God…” and another character finishes the line with “zilla’, so “oh my Godzilla.” Funny right?

I nearly puked my heart out right then and there. Glib lines like these are tossed out when thousands of people are literally being crushed to death beneath the monster battles. I guess mass death is hilarious.

Minus One has no room for this. Sure, there are a few very brief moments where you’ll smile at a kind of funny line. But those moments are earned from characters who aren’t trying to be funny the whole movie.

For 99% of the film, people take the situation seriously. There are a few lines where characters tell people about the monster without them having any knowledge about it beforehand, so it could sound totally weird and out of place. The script and the acting, however, make it believable without having to rely on sarcasm—the way Hollywood does now so we know they’re cool when they make fun of the content they’re showing us, kind of insecure—-not believing that the audience can buy into what they portray to us.

The verdict

If you’re in Japan now, go and see this movie. If not, let the anticipation build and jump on the chance when it comes.

My wife is no fan of monster movies, but even she loved it. The acting, the monster, the story, and the music, all make for a fantastic show.

The effects are not as good as Hollywood, but they’re not bad either. I would rather take a good story with people I care about over bloated blockbusters any day.