Generally speaking, I’m not a huge Godzilla fan. I like and appreciate the character, his fandom, and his history, but my love of it all really begins and ends with the profound and penetrating Gojira; everything else is little more than a late-night cinematic curiosity for me. That being said, I was really excited for Gareth Edwards’ new American-ized version, meant to pick up the slack left by Roland Emmerich in 1998’s Godzilla (which had a kick ass soundtrack, to be fair).
Unfortunately, as I sat in the movie theater last night, about 30 minutes in, I got that uncomfortable lump in my stomach. You know the one. The one that makes your insides turn over as you realize you’re really not enjoying yourself. I don’t usually write stuff about movies I don’t like, but the fact that I have no real stakes in the franchise itself and I was still really excited for the movie and yet loathed it has really struck me for some reason. Godzilla is not only a terrible Godzilla movie, it’s a poorly scripted and visually derivative action blockbuster by any standard. I didn’t like Pacific Rim either, but at least that movie had some unique visual flair.
From this point on, there are full spoilers to be had. You’ve been warned!