One of science fiction’s great abilities is to use its fantastical nature to dig into something deeper (its other great ability is to conjure great worlds for fun stories). Godzilla, as a character, is able to quite deftly do both, sometimes he’s the avatar of some terror on the edges of the collective psyche, other times he’s the avatar of unrestrained pulpy fun.
I find that Godzilla’s at his strongest — and most interesting — when he’s the former. There will still be cool monster action, but couching that cool monster action in something deeper lends it a weight that helps it stick around a little longer.
The original Godzilla posits the kaiju as an incarnation of the atomic bomb. A Japan still reeling from World War II is now forced to reckon with a rampaging monster spewing nuclear fire. They can fight back and stop the destruction, but that too is not a simple answer. A scientist, Serizawa, has created the Oxygen Destroyer — an incredible weapon terrifyingly efficient at ending life. While Godzilla waits, the humans have to decide it’s worth it to unleash a terrible weapon on the world to prevent his return.
Sixty years later, Gareth Edwards’ Godzilla is a brutal force of nature. When humanity tries to upset the balance of the world, he returns to set things right. Though not as antagonistic as the 1954 original, Godzilla here is a reminder that humanity is ultimately powerless against the forces of the planet. They can try to tame it all they can, but actions have consequences.
The recent Godzilla Minus One returns Godzilla to his atomic origins. Set in 1947, Godzilla attacks a Tokyo that’s barely started to recover from the American firebombing. But this time, in addition to attacking like a third nuclear bomb, he is the embodiment of the unfinished war. Every character in Minus One is still haunted by the all-too-recent war and Godzilla is the avatar of that gaping wound. The fight against Godzilla is made personal; defeating the kaiju means confronting that specter of war that still hangs over each character.
This is what science fiction does well. All of these situations are unrealistic, but finding the humanity of those stories and exploring them. Look at how Zelazny’s For A Breath I Tarry uses a curious robot to paint a picture of what it means to be human, or how Star Trek: Strange New Worlds questions the cost of paradise in “Lift Us Where Suffering Cannot Reach.” Pacific Rim tells a story of hope for a better tomorrow through the bonds of connection (and those bonds are used to beat up the kaiju that would ruin the future). Godzilla Minus One, like the Godzillas of 2014 and 1954, continues
Essays, Not Rants! 