Godzilla Minus One: A Timeless Masterpiece
Since December, my husband had insisted we watch the new Godzilla movie, Godzilla Minus One, a Japanese film written and directed by Takashi Yamazaki that was breaking records and now playing in America. Last month, we asked my mom to babysit, and we went to the theater. I was never really into GodzilIa and had only watched the 1998 version with Mathew Broderick. I didn’t even think about watching the newest addition to the franchise, mostly because I hadn’t heard about it before Albert mentioned it to me. “It’s getting great reviews,” he assured me. “It’s different from the other Godzilla movies because it’s character-driven. They’re calling it a masterpiece.” Well, I had to see about that. As I sat in the theatre, I expected the giant scary monster to destroy everything in its path and terrify hundreds of Japanese people on screen. What I didn’t anticipate was how teary-eyed I got for the story's main character, the failed kamikaze pilot Kōichi Shikishima.
It was so cool seeing a foreign film in theaters. I’ve seen foreign movies with subtitles at home before but have never experienced going to the movies to see a film in another language. It just seemed more impactful buying tickets to see this movie made in Japan and the theater experience was worth it. I remember going to the theater in Ecuador when I was younger and saw that they had all our movies either dubbed or with subtitles. It made me think how weird it would be to live in a country where your source of entertainment comes from the outside. While watching Godzilla, however, I kept thinking how fucking awesome it was to see movies from other countries in our cinemas with people who don’t look like us or talk like us. It made me want to see more foreign movies to explore different cultures and see what they go through. And the success of Minus One is just impressive. It has now made over $100 million worldwide; it’s the highest-grossing Japanese-language movie released in North America and the third highest-grossing foreign-language film in America. It was nominated for an Oscar in the Best Visual Effects category. I really think it deserved nominations for Best Picture, Actor, and Directing, too. At the very least, the Academy could’ve nominated it for International Feature Film. Instead, they made the ludicrous choice to shower Barbie with eight nominations, and, as my husband pointed out, that still wasn’t enough for people.
Godzilla is set in post-war Japan after World War II. The war has just ended, and Shikishima, whose sole purpose is to die while defending his country in a suicide bombing attack, lands his fighter on a Japanese base of aircraft repair mechanics on Odo Island under the pretense that he’s experiencing technical issues. One of the mechanics, Tachibana, suspects that Shikishima abandoned his duty because there is nothing wrong with his plane. That opening scene between Tachibana and Shikishima was so interesting to experience as an outsider. He’s looking at Shikishima like he’s a coward, and Shikishima’s demeanor is that of guilt and shame—both these characters’ feelings are based on what they know Shikishima should’ve done, but he chose to live instead. That concept of the kamikaze pilot is so devastating; for the government to use their own people like that is tragic. A line that hit me in the movie is when one of Shikishima’s minesweeper crew members, Kenji Noda, who creates a plan to sink the monster, tells the group of civilian men he’s gathered for the mission, “This country has valued life far too cheaply.” He’s stating this truth for Shikishima’s benefit. Duty and obedience are a huge part of their culture, so it’s telling when the people take matters into their own hands and stand together against the sea beast.
I love the way this movie was written. It’s such a master class in structure and storytelling. I felt so much for Shikishima’s story. He has major survivor’s guilt and is blamed for people losing their lives because he didn’t complete his job. Godzilla makes a terrifying appearance at Odo Island, and as the only fighter pilot among mechanics, Tachibana asks Shikishima to shoot the creature. Shikishima freezes up and fails, inadvertently causing the deaths of everyone on the base except for himself and Tachibana, who also survives. He blames Shikishima and cruelly gives him photos of the dead mechanics’ family members. When Shikishima arrives home to a bombed Tokyo, he learns from a neighbor that his parents are dead, and she blames him for the attack because he didn’t fulfill his role as a kamikaze pilot. Over and over again, Shikishima’s fears and decisions indirectly lead to more and more people dying either from the war or Godzilla, which only increases his torment. Ryunosuke Kamiki’s performance as this tortured soul is incredibly moving. It was such an emotional scene when Shikishima breaks down, unable to recognize reality, thinking himself dead, and confesses that the war isn’t over for him. We can all relate to that internal turmoil.
When the movie finished, I had tears in my eyes. I agreed with the critics that it was a masterpiece, not only a masterpiece but a timeless film. I loved the struggle Shikishima faces and the theme of valuing life while dealing with so much death around you. In Noda’s speech to the people, before they enact their plan to trap Godzilla, there’s a glimpse of foreshadowing that I won’t spoil because the climax of the movie is truly one of my favorites. I loved the movie's theme that you have to fight for your life, you have to survive, the very thing that haunts Shikishima. We see early on that his father had implored him in a letter to return home. I loved that for the character. Though sadly, his father is a casualty of war, he at least knows that his father would have wanted him to save his own life. When faced with the monster to deploy Noda’s plan, Shikishima must make a life-or-death decision. His choice brings his character's journey full circle, and as I cried during that poignant moment, I couldn’t be happier with how the scene concluded.