How Godzilla Ascends From a Typical Monster Flick, Does Its King Justice, and Has One of the Decade’s Best Scenes (Film Analysis)

LINK TO PART 2: How Godzilla Squanders Potential in One of the Decade’s Most Disappointing Decisions

Where Godzilla fails with a human protagonist, cast, and consistent action, it succeeds where it counts with the King of the Monsters himself.  It also succeeds where one wouldn’t expect a Godzilla film to: in beautiful, stylistic imagery and stirring sound utilized together in great effectiveness to craft some highly memorable and downright brilliant moments of cinematography.  The film certainly doesn’t look or sound like your typical Godzilla film, and in doing so establishes itself as its own unique creation apart from the multitude of previous Godzilla stories.

The film loves teasing the audience with brief Bigfoot-equivalent shots of Godzilla throughout its first half.  This is seen right from the opening credits—a creative sequence using music reminiscent to the 1954 Gojira (when the opening credits are set), where military forces attempt to blow up Godzilla with a nuke.  The credits transition via nuclear explosion to the title card, where the Godzilla logo eerily sits atop the residing dust and debris particles floating in the wind.  Godzilla finally appears in full an hour into the film, and it is a brilliant introduction to the character.  In a Hawaiian airport, the newly awakened MUTO begins searching for its past eggmate, fighting off military helicopters along the way.  The MUTO successfully smashes one of the helicopters into the ground, causing a chain-reaction explosion with the grounded airplanes.  The civilians hiding inside the airport are seen in a complete panic, screaming as each chain explosion occurs, only to go dead silent (not literally) when a massive foot comes slamming down outside the airport.  The scene then cuts to a pan up of its massive Kaiju as he gives off a massive roar (heavily reminiscent to his original cry with some slight tweaking).

For many people like my wife, this was their first introduction to Godzilla.  Newcomers understandably went into the film expecting Godzilla to be the villainous monster here.  Even veteran Godzilla fans didn't quite know what to expect, as the King of the Monsters often varies in morality depending on the story’s writer(s).  Godzilla could be a merciless bringer of destruction, outstanding role model, anti-hero, anti-villain, cruel god, protective father, horrifying beast, an abomination of nature formed from human evil, humanity’s savior, humanity’s ruin, or any combination in between.  The film plays around with the audience regarding Godzilla’s true colors—even misdirecting them to believe that the cocooned MUTO is Godzilla—yet by the finale, it’s more than evident The King of the Monsters has received a hefty dose of adaptational heroism.

Godzilla’s main goal in the film is to hunt and kill the parasitic MUTOs, who killed his kind back during the prehistoric days and lay their eggs in the species’s radioactive bodies.   This is Godzilla’s only goal, showing no malice towards the humans who nuked him decades prior.  The only harm done to humans here is collateral damage from Godzilla’s sheer size—like a human trying to traverse through an ant colony—causing devastation merely from moving around (such as a tsunami caused by him coming onto land) rather than anything intentionally malicious, making him an anti-hero at worst.  Make no mistake, however, Godzilla is humanity’s protector here—albeit with some collateral damage along the way.  This may come as a disappointment for those who appreciate the cautionary tales where Godzilla acts as nature’s retribution against humanity’s evil.  Yet, in other ways, a hero Godzilla can be just as effective storytelling-wise—a notable way being he’s far more endearing when not trying to annihilate us.

Godzilla’s first and only major on-screen battle begins over an hour and a half into its two-hour run.  The film has made multiple very disappointing decisions by this point, and yet the last half-hour is so brimming with excellence and absolute genius that it more than makes up for the short-term faults and nearly makes up for offing Bryan Cranston.  It’s apparent from the opening title card that cinematographer Seamus McGarvey was fixed on using a hauntingly unearthly approach for Godzilla.  The strikingly atmospheric style works ideally alongside the chilling soundtrack and titanic terror occurring, giving birth to the film’s most memorable, highlight scenes.

The Halo Jump is one of Godzilla’s most well-known scenes, being given pre-release prominence due to its multiple inclusions in trailers.  The scene is downright haunting and beautifully shot.  The scene opens with Ford and his fellow bomb squad getting ready to airdrop into a kaiju-torn city to diffuse a ticking nuclear warhead the MUTOs snagged and took back to their nest within the city.  The scene is given the necessary buildup as the crew slowly prepare for what may possibly be a suicide mission.  Despite having no attachment to any of the characters (including Ford) I can't help but feel the nerve-rattling pressure they are feeling as the plane’s lights suddenly turn red and the alarm goes off signaling them to prepare for the jump.

I noted in my original review of Godzilla how heavily reminiscent the Halo Jump’s soundtrack is to 2001: A Space Odyssey where humanity discovers a Monolith on the Moon.  Well, as it turns out, that’s because it is the same music composed by the late György Ligeti.  Both the Monolith on the Moon and Halo Jump scenes have a similar theme of humanity messing with powerful forces far beyond their ability.  The ambiance is palpable here as the squad dive with red flare smoke trailing behind, the sun visible at the hight they're jumping yet disappearing as they descend into the dust clouds.  Lightning strikes around them as they descend through the grey clouds into an absolutely breathtaking shot that I only describe as a descent into hell.  There’s a first-person perspective from Ford, trying to make heads or tails of his terrifying situation, before getting another breathtaking shot of them falling into the now-apocalyptic city.  Ford observes and gets dangerously close to Godzilla fighting one of the MUTOs, yet the massive-sized battle is eerily silent with the creatures barely making any noise.  The Halo Jump scene is nothing short of a masterfully put-together segment, perfectly capturing the ambiance, tone, and the absolute terror of the situation these brave men are putting themselves into.

The MUTOs are some interesting kaiju with a unique EMP attack created from their absorption of radiation.  They have distinct sexual dysmorphism with the male MUTO having wings for flying and the female MUTO being several times larger.  If you think that the director of Monsters wasn’t going to try humanizing these beasts, well you’ve got another thing coming.  Despite being the film’s monstrous antagonists, the creatures are given personality and notable emotions.  When the pair finally reunite with each other, they affectionately nuzzle their noses in the dust of nearly collapsing skyscrapers.  When Ford and his squad successfully locate the bomb and cause an inferno to destroy the MUTOs’ eggs, mama MUTO immediately stops fighting Godzilla and rushes over screeching in a panic-like manner.  The male, likewise, rushes over to the devastation as mama cries over her dead young.  It gives the beings empathetic qualities that make them more than just generic monsters (such as the Cloverfield monster. who they are often compared with).

And now, ladies and gentlemen, we get to the piece a la resistance of Godzilla.  The scene I consider not only one of the decade’s best moments in cinema, but in media as a whole.  The Atomic Breath scene is, without doubt, one of the coolest, heart-pumping, goosebumps-inducing, makes me feel like a ten-year-old kid again, ludicrously amazing, epic moments in the film, yet many people still underappreciate the absolute genius this scene really is.  Let's start with how the writers utilize America’s past flop with a Godzilla film to make the audiences trick themselves.

The infamous Zilla from the 1998 Godzilla does not have an Atomic Breath (although its offspring does in the animated spinoff does), most likely to make it seems more "realistic".  This decision completely backfired for the 1998 film, as fans outcried over such decision to such a point that the directors gave Zilla a radioactive “Power Breath” to try and appease (the Power Breath is lame and it did not help).  Godzilla’s Atomic Breath is his most iconic ability, to remove it is to remove an essential part of his character.  Godzilla without his Atomic Breath is like Superman without his super strength, Spider-Man without his Web-Shooters, etc.  Nonetheless, it was unknown if 2014 Godzilla would possess such ability or if the filmmakers would go for a similar “realistic" situation as Zilla.  And by the final battle, it was looking to be the latter.  Over an hour and forty-five minutes into its two-hour runtime and Godzilla had yet to use his Atomic Breath.  I became very doubtful the ability was going to occur during the film.  Oh, how skillfully director Edwards was playing me like a fiddle.

The scene is masterfully set-up.  Through a tag team effort, the two MUTOs are successful in momentarily downing Godzilla, right before noticing their eggs burning up from Ford’s work.  While mourning her lost young, the female MUTO notices Ford crawling away from the scene—menacingly advancing towards the tiny human.  As Ford looks upon his imminent demise, a mysterious blue glow suddenly reflects upon his body.  Both Ford and the MUTO look up to see a pixie-like radiance enveloping the thick, dusty air.

Immediately, I realized what was happening and my excitement grew exponentially.  The blue glow begins to lengthen in size, illuminating a now visible tail and back plates as they rise up the body of a now standing Godzilla.  An instrumental tuba amplifies the scene’s anticipation and intensity as the instrument crescendos alongside the rising blue glow.  I was at peak levels of excitement by this point—I knew what was coming next and I could barely contain myself within my seat.  The scene reaches its climax as Godzilla takes a deep breath and fires a powerful blast right into the MUTO’s face.  It was exhilarating to watch.  People in the theater were wildly cheering and clapping at the sight—I also clapped, though I was too stuck in an ear-to-ear grin to join the cheering.

Yet the scene’s brilliance doesn’t end there.  Let me remind you my wife and brother—someone fresh and someone experienced to the franchise—were also with me.  It’s one thing to experience a joyous moment in a film, it’s another entirely to experience it with others.  My brother caught on alongside me what the blue glow meant, and there was a moment we briefly looked at each other as if to gleefully acknowledge the event about to occur.  My wife, on the other hand, had no clue what was happening, letting out a confused “What’s going on?” as the blue began enveloping Godzilla's back plates.  The sound of complete shock and pleasant surprise she gave when Godzilla blasted the MUTO was just the cherry on top of the situation.  I got to experience the best of both worlds that day.  A nostalgic delight from experiencing an awesome moment with a veteran, and the giddy joy of hearing someone experience said awesome moment for the first time.  I’ll go on YouTube to watch that scene again and still get goosebumps.  It is, to me, a perfect scene: perfect setup, perfect misdirection, perfect inclusion of all audiences, and perfect execution.

Oh, but the film is not done yet with great scenes.  The final battle is great at establishing Godzilla's personality.  Here’s an alpha predator that knows he’s the alpha predator and does so with a bit of an ego and a lot of style.  When the flying male Muto starts getting on Godzilla's nerves—like a horse fly to a human—the King makes an actual scoffing face, baits the MUTO in, and then b**** slaps him with his tail right into a skyscraper, impaling and killing the parasite on the spot.  The impact is so great that the massive skyscraper falls right on top of Godzilla, but that isn't enough to stop the literal and figurative beast, as he gets back up to give the film its third iconic scene—dubbed by fans as the Kiss of Death.  The scene is just pure badass awesomeness as Godzilla hoists the female MUTO up with its teeth, forcibly opens the parasite’s mouth, and fires an Atomic Breath directly in—vaporizing the MUTO’s innards and causing its body to fall right off as Godzilla carries the severed head around and roars in victory.  The scene is like a Mortal Kombat fatality: brutal, badass, and completely awesome.

The ending is as cheesy as it can get as a stadium full of refugees cheer on Godzilla as he gets up from a brief nap and heads back towards the ocean.  A breaking news headliner; “KING OF THE MONSTERS - SAVIOR OF OUR CITY?" makes clear that any realistic reaction towards the towering, nuclear behemoth who could at any point turn around and destroy them all on a whim has long since gone.  Godzilla is given a superhero sendoff here, and while unrealistic, I can’t help but like it from a cinematic perspective (the film's treatment of Godzilla has earned it some leeway).  After one last roar accompanied by some epic music, Godzilla descends back into the watery depths— the music gracefully dying down as the stirring waters becoming calm once more.

Where the film fails with its human characters, it succeeds with Godzilla.  The film respects Godzilla, both in scale (at 355 feet, he was the tallest incarnation at the time), in power, and in origin.  He is a force of nature, and stylishly badass at that, but also a likable creature with a bold, relatable personality that makes him endearing for both old and new fans.  It’s in crafting an effective Godzilla that honors his roots and placing him into a stunningly aesthetic picture that Godzilla ultimately comes out on top despite the major blunders with its human cast.  Godzilla ends up being a good start for the MonsterVerse, being, so far, the only post-Marvel Cinematic Universe imitator to open its world with a majority positive reception.  Regardless of what happens in the future to the MonsterVerse, 2014's Godzilla will hold a unique place in my heart as something that could have been so much more, yet gave me everything I could ask for.