Since its North American release at the start of December, Godzilla Minus One has been making the kind of waves that most films of any genre could only dream of making, and much has been made of how the film humiliates Hollywood and western cinema; delivering an enthralling story with lovable characters, as well as spectacular action and rich themes on a budget Hollywood would spend ten times over on a film that wouldn't even be half as good. It's fantastic for me, as a life-long Godzilla fan, to see this film getting such a strong and overwhelmingly positive reaction, and to see it bring more attention to the Godzilla franchise at large, and as a fan of this film specifically, its fantastic to see the kind of love it's getting because it deserves every ounce of it. But something else has come of Godzilla Minus One that I find less fantastic; since the release of the film, a line has once again been drawn by some people between what is deemed to be true and authentic Godzilla and not true and inauthentic Godzilla, and this line highlights a misunderstanding of the kind of franchise and the kind of monster that Godzilla is.
The notion that Japanese Godzilla, and specifically Minus One's Godzilla in this case, is the only authentic Godzilla and that the Monsterverse's Godzilla is not authentic or true is simply not correct. For as witty and entertaining as The Critical Drinker is, his takes on the Godzilla franchise over the years demonstrate what I'm getting at here. He describes the Monsterverse as films where "massive [children smash] their toys together," in his review of Godzilla Minus One, where he frames the film as a redemption of 2023 in film, a year defined by creative and financial failures. On his Open Bar podcast, he also explained how he hates Godzilla's role in the Monsterverse as an anti-hero, and that he thinks that Godzilla 'should' be a Monster. While his point on 2023 is undeniably true, he lives up to his name in many of his criticisms, and in the case of Godzilla, I just don't think his overly cynical outlook can be fairly applied. His summery of the Monsterverse also doesn't make the point he thinks it makes, nor does it make the point that the Monsterverse is in some way a weaker or less genuine interpretation of this franchise. A more prominent example of this misunderstanding comes from James Rolfe of The Angry Video Game Nerd fame who, while talking about Shin Godzilla in 2016, likened the Godzilla franchise to sparkling wine and champagne; as in sparkling wine can legally only be champagne if it's from Champagne in France, meaning that for Godzilla to be Godzilla, it must fall under a specific criteria, be that being Japanese, from Toho, made with traditional special effects, or all of the above.
I don't doubt that The Critical Drinker has a great amount of respect for Godzilla Minus One, nor do I doubt that Rolfe is the Godzilla mega-fan he claims to be, I'm sure Chris Stuckmann is the Godzilla fan he claims to be too, but his statement that the Godzilla franchise is defined by and loved for its satire was flat wrong, and I think Rolfe and the Drinker are wrong too. I'll explain why but before we get to the point, I must set the scene. Godzilla is a niche franchise, people that obsess about Godzilla like I do are few in number in the west, and like Lord of the Rings fans who relentlessly champion the Extended Editions and insist that everyone watch them, or Harry Potter fans who visit Dobby's grave on Freshwater West, Godzilla fans are, themselves, a barrier to entry because they can be so off-putting. This kind of bias and fanaticism towards a franchise can and does create an equal and opposite reaction; a perception that, like the people who love it, the franchise itself is weird and not to be taken seriously or given a chance. Godzilla is arguably a worse case in this regard because of what it is; it's a series of relatively low budget, Japanese monster movies where the titular monster has traditionally been created through suit work and miniatures. Like with many of its fellow science fiction franchises of the time, once cutting edge and awe inspiring special effects have long since lost their splendour in the eyes of the audience, who are now used to and have come to expect photo-realistic computer generated effects instead.
Bolt on a language barrier and a filmography spanning three quarters of a century and dozens of films, and you have a franchise that is not only daunting and intimidating to more casual audiences, but silly and cheap looking and obsessed over by nerds. This is where my issue comes from when people have takes on Godzilla as a franchise or as a character. To suggest that Godzilla is only authentic when he is a villain and to ignore that in the thirty-seven films he's appeared in, he's only been a villain in about a third of them, is either uninformed or dishonest. Godzilla is flexible, while core aspects of his character remain or are changed slightly, his role in a story can and has shifted massively depending on the story itself. Godzilla may have been a cruel and vengeful monster in 1954, but by 1974, he was teaming up with a Lion God to defend the Earth from an evil Alien Robot version of himself. Where the question of what is and isn't authentic Godzilla really begins to pop up is with Tristar's 1998 film, inevitably, which made the mistake of drastically changing several core aspects of Godzilla's character. The film was rightly maligned upon release, but can also be looked at today as a painful but necessary step in the evolution of this franchise, indirectly paving the way for the 2014 film by Legendary Pictures, and while the Monsterverse has drastically shifted in tone and style in the decade since it began, its depiction of Godzilla has not changed anywhere near as drastically.
What is Godzilla? What he represents can change dramatically from film to film as we've already seen, but literally, physically, what is Godzilla; he's a giant, radioactive dinosaur created by the Atomic Bomb, he has atomic breath, is borderline indestructible, and will pursue his goal, whatever it is, with ruthless and animalistic determination. He's an unstoppable brute that will punch, kick, bite, claw and burn anything that gets in his way, but he's not just a mindless monster, he can solve problems, form alliances, and adapt to new challenges and threats. And most importantly, whoever or whatever that threat is, Godzilla never backs down, he takes the threat head on and doesn't stop until it either submits or stops moving. The 1998 Godzilla didn't just change his physical appearance, it changed who he was as a character, it took away his atomic breath, his dogged fearlessness and determination, and killed him with missiles. Meanwhile, 2014 established that Godzilla is nuke-proof in the first two minutes, gave him back his atomic breath, and had him chase his enemy half way round the world and finish them off in an unrelenting battle to the death. His origins as a mutated reptile may have been changed but in his appearance, abilities and personality, he is absolutely and unquestionably Godzilla. King of the Monsters and GVK pivoted away from 2014's more thoughtful approach in favour of all out Kaiju mayhem for its own sake, but Godzilla and his role in the story have not changed, and even GXK, for as bonkers as it looks to be, and for as strikingly as it changes Godzilla's appearance, still doesn't look to be changing Godzilla's character.
Listen to me, I'm saying the giant CGI dinosaur has a character, but the thing is that if it wasn't the case, no one would have an issue with the Tristar film, and if Godzilla can only ever be a villain, the Monsterverse Godzilla would be just as despised as '98, instead and somewhat ironically, he's seen by many as the quintessential Godzilla. But something else that's special about Godzilla, and that helped him stand out from the other monsters of the time is that he isn't just a radioactive dinosaur, and while many films in the franchise, especially in the Showa series, forget that, when people remember what Godzilla is and what he is capable of being, that's when this franchise truly becomes the king of the science fiction and kaiju genres. Godzilla is the manifestation of the horrors of war. In 1954, he carved a path of destruction across Japan just as the Americans had in 1944 and 1945, he left flattened cities, thousands dead and the lingering threat of radiation in his wake. In 1984, he was the reality of Nuclear War, an uncontrollable threat to the world that couldn't simply be dealt with using guns and bombs. In 2001, he was the ghost of the Pacific War, a vengeful force come to punish the Japanese for their past crimes. In 2014, he was Nature's answer to Humanity's hubristic attempts to control and contain it, in 2016, he was the creeping, poisonous threat of nuclear contamination and in 2023, he was the guilt and trauma of the War, still torturing those who lived through it.
This doesn't exclusively apply to Godzilla either, it can apply to any giant monster. The great thing about giant monsters in fiction is that they don't actually exist, they are fantastical and unreal, and can therefore be whatever the storyteller needs them to be. A metaphor is a powerful storytelling tool that can be used to express ideas and messages; through fantasy, you can reflect and interpret aspects of reality and giant monsters are especially good for this, they are what we want them to be and can mean anything we interpret them to mean, whether that's the intention of the storyteller or not. Godzilla maybe the villain of the original film, but you could just as easily argue that he's the victim of the film as well, an animal retaliating against it's perceived enemy after being wounded by a bomb test, a creature that we should have just left alone and maybe if we did, less people would have died. Sure, Godzilla punching other monsters is cool, but it's this that makes Godzilla such an important monster, and why the kids that grew up loving him never grew out of that love. They loved watching him fight baddies and save the world, but as they got bigger and more mature and began to consider more mature ideas and worldviews, they came to appreciate Godzilla's unique and novel way of exploring those deeper, more existential ideas. This is the real power of Godzilla as a character; as Tomoyuki Tanaka, producer of the original film once said; "He is a nightmare created out of the darkness of the human soul, he is the Sacred Beast of the Apocalypse."
But if Godzilla is at his strongest when he represents something bigger and scarier than himself, why are the Showa films still so loved, why are Godzilla toys flying off the shelves? As I've said previously, it's because they're cool; it's because watching Godzilla fight other monsters is cool. Like other mega-franchises like Star Wars and Marvel, they are toyetic, and they appeal to the heroic idealism of young kids, especially boys, who not only love it when Godzilla, or Luke Skywalker, or Captain America, defeats the baddies and saves the day, but they then get the action figure so that they can go on the next epic adventure with their hero. These characters are heroic idols and with that comes values that appeal to boys, who tend to project themselves onto their heroes and aspire to be like them. And while having The Force or a Vibranium Shield is as impossible as being a radioactive fire-breathing dinosaur, it is the heroism that is appealing; the bravery, the thrill of adventure and the desire to do what's right. For its many, many, many faults, even a film like All Monsters Attack has this aspect of Godzilla nailed down, as its through him and his son, Minilla that the young Ichiro finds the bravery to take on his bullies and be heroic. Then there is the toyetic aspect of Godzilla, because Godzilla and his many friends and enemies make great toys. With a Godzilla toy, some little toy tanks and some bits of cardboard, any kid can act out their own imaginary Godzilla adventure, and make it even cooler with the introduction of a villain monster, maybe a three headed, lightning-shooting golden dragon, or a cyborg chicken with knives for hands and a buzz saw on his chest, and maybe he could team up with Optimus Prime and He-Man to fight them, and maybe Darth Vader can come in to even the odds, imagination is limitless.
When The Critical Drinker comments that Godzilla films are kids smashing their toys together, the framing is where he's wrong, not the statement itself. Whether it's him being disingenuous or just being his characteristically cynical self, he makes out that Godzilla being as toyetic as it is is a bad thing when it clearly isn't, and when this observation is conveyed in as patronising a way as it is, it just highlights that The Drinker doesn't really understand this franchise. It's almost as if he's criticising the kaiju genre for being the kaiju genre, and determining that films of the kaiju genre can only be good under particular circumstances, which is simply not true. Meanwhile Rolfe's champagne analogy is equally misplaced, as what is or can be defined as true Godzilla doesn't depend on arbitrary factors like country of origin, it depends on the storyteller's understanding and interpretation. And it doesn't depend on whether Godzilla is a hero or a villain because if it did, that would make the Tristar film more authentic than the bulk of Toho's films, a position neither of them would dare take. The mistake both of them make is trying to put Godzilla into boxes that he doesn't fit in, and if he could, we wouldn't even be discussing him because its the limitless possibility and potential of Godzilla, both as a monster and a franchise, that has made this franchise the longest-running in film history.
The King of the Monsters
Godzilla's legacy is one of the most fascinating stories in the history of cinema and the significance he has, not just to the film industry, but to the millions of people across the globe that adore him is immeasurable. But while Tomoyuki Tanaka and and Ishiro Honda originally envisioned him as a terrifying symbol of war and atomic power, it was the monster's ability to grow beyond that that turned what would have been a one-hit-wonder into one of the most beloved franchises in film history. A franchise that's had its highs and lows for sure, but has always come back stronger not in spite of its ability to evolve, but because of it. And at the heart of it all is Godzilla himself, a Post-war mythical God that's as good at tearing apart cities as he is at selling toys, that can appeal to older audiences with the ideas he represents just as well as he appeals to younger audiences with his heroic antics. One does not negate the other, nor are either more or less authentic renditions of this classic monster. Like the best creatures of fiction, Godzilla transcends borders, languages and ideologies and despite that, has managed to retain what makes him so unique and special, and what makes him the undisputed King of the Monsters.
