Godzilla/Gojira
was born out of nuclear anxiety in the post-Hiroshima 1950s, so a reboot makes
perfect sense in the angsty post-Fukushima teens. Apparently enough time has
passed in the five years since the tsunami and nuclear emergency to destroy
Tokyo again, but the echoes of the real tragedy conspicuously reverberate in
the King of Monsters’ latest outing. Fittingly, the creator of the Evangelion franchise and the special
effects director of the more serious 1990s Gamera
reboot trilogy explore those apocalyptic themes in Hideaki Anno & (co-director)
Shinji Higushi’s Shin Godzilla (trailer here), a real deal
Toho-produced Japanese-language Godzilla movie, which opens this coming Tuesday
for a special week-long run in select cities.
A
large mutating lizard is heading straight for Yokohama, but if the Prime Minister’s
cabinet is going to address the issue, someone will have to make a motion to
set aside the agenda. Bureaucracy is sluggish, myopic, and turf-conscious
throughout this Godzilla film, giving the scaly creature a further advantage he
does not need. From early sightings through his initial landfall, they consistently
underestimate the King. However, at least one sub-cabinet appointee, earnest
but rather tactless Rando Yaguchi, recognizes the danger (how could he miss
it?).
It
turns out at least one prominent government scientist had an inkling of what
was to come, but he chose to end it all rather than stick around to witness the
carnage. When the government finally realizes they have a situation on their
hands, they authorize the self-defense force to throw the kitchen sink at Godzilla,
but they only succeed in drawing a little blood. Of course, this enrages the
stomping kaiju no end, so he turns himself into a veritable disco ball of death
rays. He proceeds to wreak some incredible havoc, even incinerating the Prime
Minister’s evacuation helicopter. However, he will have to hibernate for two
weeks to restore his energy.
That
gives Yaguchi and his team of government misfits and rebels a narrow window to
develop a strategy to freeze Godzilla by targeting his unique circulatory
system, before the Yanks nuke him with the UN’s blessing. Fortunately, he has
the backing of U.S. Special Envoy and prospective presidential candidate Kayoko
Ann Patterson, who will also remain in harm’s way with the ragtag group of
scientists and emergency management specialists.
Shin Godzilla harkens back to
the moodiness original, unadulterated 1954 Godzilla,
but it shows the monster almost immediately and subsequently never leaves him
out of the frame for very long. However, kaiju fans might be put off by the
film’s 1970s docu-drama tone. Screenwriter Anno is almost perversely obsessed
with meeting rooms, following the various cabinet and sub-cabinet officials as
they convene and re-convene around sundry conference table’s throughout the PM’s
residence. Clearly, the politicians and bureaucrats are preoccupied with
procedure and minutes, very much to the detriment of public safety. Rather
annoyingly, there is also a pronounced strain of anti-Americanism in this film
(what would Raymond Burr’s Steve Martin say?), but at least we can support the idea
of a Pres. Kayoko Patterson, especially in a year like this.
While
not exactly Yes, Minister, Shin Godzilla is surprisingly sly when
skewering bureaucracy and the political class. However, it still has room for
idealism, especially with respects to the jaded and ambitious Yaguchi and
Patterson, who risk everything to save Tokyo and perhaps the very soul of
Japan. Hiroki Hasegawa and Satomi Ishihara forge some terrific chemistry
together—especially since Anno and Higuchi force them to do it on the run. They
just don’t have any time for backstory, so all character development (and there
is some) emerges organically from within the on-screen crises.
And
then there is Godzilla. Mostly computer generated, he looks terrific from a
distance and when engaged cataclysmic destruction. To borrow a technical film
studies term, when Godzilla gets Medieval on Tokyo, it is just plain awesome.
However, during his close-ups, the King still looks a little “fake.” Yet, this
is not necessarily a mistake. In fact, it feels like a fitting way to observe
tradition.
