THE STORY – The Shikishima family faces an all-new threat as Godzilla returns to wreak havoc.
THE CAST – Ryunosuke Kamiki, Minami Hamabe, Yuki Yamada, Kuranosuke Sasaki, Miou Tanaka, Sakura Ando, Hidetaka Yoshioka, Jun Kunimura, Masami Nagasawa & Min Tanaka
THE TEAM – Takashi Yamazaki (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 135 Minutes
Takashi Yamazaki’s “Godzilla Minus Zero” opens with an alarm-like sting of string instruments that immediately pulls you into the film’s paranoid headspace. Two years have passed since the events of “Godzilla Minus One,” and another monster has appeared to terrorize Japan, this time in the city of Nagano: a giant, dragon-like figure soars over the city, sending bright orange bolts of lightning from its mouth to destroy it. Scientists tracking it from its origins in a crashed meteorite believe it has taken on aspects of multiple other animal species, making it a chimera; thus, the beast’s name: Ghidora. This opening sequence, introducing us to our new kaiju antagonist, offers a succinct reminder of everything that “Godzilla Minus One” did so well: phenomenal visual effects and creature design, jaw-dropping action filmmaking, and a genuine sense of awe at both the glory of Ghidora’s presence and the destruction it leaves in its wake. Yamazaki and his team have doubled down on the spectacle of their last film, pushing the tension to new heights in a sequence that is sure to tickle every lover of monster movies.
Thankfully, they haven’t forgotten the secret sauce behind the success of “Godzilla Minus One”: the strongly written human characters, whom we’re quickly reintroduced to. Naval engineer Kenji Noda (Hidetaka Yoshioka) now leads the Large-Scale Disaster Bureau, tasked with solving the Ghidora problem, while former kamikaze pilot Shikishima (Ryunosuke Kamiki) and his now-wife Noriko (Minami Hamabe) continue to raise little Akiko (Sae Nagatani) with help from their neighbor Sumiko (Sakura Ando), who runs an orphanage. When Shikishima hears that Noda is looking for pilots, he assumes there’s only one reason: A giant monster. He’s right, but he also hears that not only has a new monster appeared, but Godzilla has reappeared, fully reconstituted after they blew him to bits at the end of “Godzilla Minus One.” Rattled, Shikishima offers his assistance, but Noda can’t bring himself to put the new family man in danger; too many have already lost their lives, and he will not leave Akiko without a parent after all she’s been through. Compelled by a greater sense of duty, Shikishima and Noriko put their fears aside and leave Akiko one last time to help their countrymen. With their help, alongside the knowledge of weather-forecasting prodigy Aoyama (Masami Nagasawa) and technology developed by cracked scientist Kenji Murakami (Min Tanaka), Noda hopes, against all odds, that they can bring down at least one of these massive monstrosities.
As with “Godzilla Minus One,” Yamazaki’s direction of the scenes between kaiju attacks makes “Minus Zero” even more effective. Shot mostly in long takes that help immerse the audience in the film’s world, Yamazaki confirms his status as a great blocker while creating an indelible look with returning cinematographer Kōzō Shibasaki. These scenes look downright elegant compared to the standard shot/reverse shot style that bogs down most other blockbusters, with packed master shots and effective camera movement. The actors follow his lead, putting deep nuance behind every broad emotional gesture. The characters deal with the fallout of the first film, and their guilt over some of their actions deepens when they learn Godzilla has returned, opening up more complex emotional territory. Yamazaki’s rich sociopolitical exploration of Japan’s post-war/post-bomb years, focused on the Japanese government in “Godzilla Minus One,” goes deeper here with the introduction of the U.S. Army and their gum-smacking, gun-toting condescension towards the Japanese. There’s still plenty to say about the national mood of the time and the difference between honor and duty to oneself and to a larger collective, like one’s family or country, as well as complicity in defense plans that fail and responsibility to the next generation. That’s an ambitious amount of topics for one monster movie to take on. Still, the ensemble makes every note of Yamazaki’s thematically dense screenplay sing, giving the broader themes deep personal resonance.
In a counterintuitive move for an international blockbuster, Yamazaki keeps Naoki Sato’s sore to a minimum, especially in dialogue scenes. More big action films would do well to follow his lead, as it lets the audience connect with the characters more organically. With the returning actors locked into the more melodramatic acting style of the 40s-50s, the audience doesn’t need sweeping strings or slowly repeated piano chords to push them toward an emotional response. Neither director nor composer can help themselves at the film’s finale. Still, by that point, their previous restraint has earned the indulgence, and the audience has earned the cathartic emotional release. In the action scenes, though, Sato’s score keeps tightening the tension until it snaps, building relentlessly to a climax that makes your hair stand on end and your mouth drop open in awe. It’s an old trick, but monstrously effective (especially whenever Godzilla himself appears to the tune of Akira Ifukube’s iconic original score).
Make no mistake, though: For all its subtlety, elegance, and focus on character, “Godzilla Minus Zero” is still a monster movie first and foremost, and Yamazaki delivers spectacularly. The Oscar-winning visual effects on Godzilla look even better this time around (they keep the human-in-a-rubber-suit movement style of the last film but make it look much smoother), and Ghidora is every bit his equal. Both monsters get put through the wringer, but the action stays clear and often looks incredibly cool (one particular moment of kaiju violence perfectly bridges the gap between gross and awesome just enough that you find yourself feeling for a surprising character). Even when the actors appear in front of an obvious green screen, the film apes old-school styles so often that it reads as a loving tribute to old movies, but there’s a sense of realism to every fully-CGI character and setting that keeps the film from looking like a bunch of plasticky pixels being mashed together. When buildings fall, you feel their crushing weight; when electric lightning bolts strike, you feel their energy coursing through you. This strengthens the film’s emotional impact by emphasizing the human cost of kaiju destruction, even as the film inspires awe at the giant beasts and their terrible power. The film’s constant reminders of the human cost of war, including an appropriately horrifying vision of atomic bomb victims, show Yamazaki going above and beyond to add to the national mythos of Japan’s most famous export, using Godzilla to reckon not only with the horrors of WWII, but of the present day. The more things change, the more they stay the same. That may be bad for the state of the world, but it also means watching Godzilla and his kaiju brethren wreak havoc is just as awesome now as it was in 1954. That Yamazaki can make a film that’s equally horrifying and emotional amid all that badass monster-action spectacle confirms him as a modern master of the art form. Long may he and his Godzilla dominate our multiplexes.
