Imagine a disused wrestling ring. One that has been left
abandoned for so long that anthills have formed on the foam-padded floor. The
ants have made it their home… but something happens. All of a sudden, the stage
lights turn on. The rumbling of the audience is heard as they take their seats.
Gladiators take to the stage to throw down and see who is the true champion.
All while the ants can do nothing but stand and watch as the place that was
once their home is ravaged by creatures beyond their comprehension. Now stop
imagining, because this is exactly what watching Godzilla: King Of The Monsters
feels like.
I have no doubt overused the word ‘awesome’ in past reviews, in its modern usage where it’s only a synonym for good. Here, however, I find myself using it here in its original usage, that being an expression of awe, as that is what the fights between the monsters feels like. From the disarming beauty of Mothra to the otherworldly menace of King Geedorah, right down to the titular king himself, this film gives a depiction of divine creatures in battle that is rather disquieting in a weirdly unexpected way. Having covered a few giant monster movies on here, I thought I had my expectations in check for this one, but I wasn’t quite expecting something this… awe-inspiring.
Not that this film is all brawn and no brains though, even
though said brawn is so literally stunning that this could have easily coasted
on the strength of that alone. No, this is a story along the same lines as the
Netflix Godzilla trilogy, where ruminations on the relationship between man,
his gods and his environment form the core of the narrative. At its most
literary, it feels like a live-action version of The Planet Eater, one where
the heaviness of the ideas have been dialled down a touch but the action chops
have been dialled all the way up. It turns the Godzilla mythos into something
truly mythological, letting the Titans take centre stage as they essentially
craft Armageddon on what can charitably be called our Earth.
As for the people in this film that aren’t city-levelling
monstrosities, the characterisation for the humans in attendance is slightly
above what we got with Godzilla 2014. They aren’t the most well-defined
characters I’ve seen a Godzilla movie this year, but they are fleshed out
enough to suit the film’s purposes. The big exceptions to that are Ken Watanabe
returning as Dr. Serizawa, who takes an almost priestly role in how he factors
into the carnage on-screen, and Millie Bobby Brown as Madison, the daughter of
the main human forces at work in Vera Farmiga as an eco-terrorist and Kyle
Chandler as the scorned maltheist. Seeing Madison roar down King fucking
Geedorah is its own brand of awe.
It’s one big, loud and incredibly intense thrill ride, one
where the destructive action beats, the theological examinations and the
occasional moments of banter (Bradley Whitford as off-brand Rick Sanchez gets
some hearty chuckles throughout) are all balanced so that each shines when it’s
called upon to do so. It may not have the moodiness of Godzilla 2014, the
creativity of Kong: Skull Island, or even the intricacy of the Netflix trilogy,
but when it manages to sell the idea of giant monsters as gods better than all three
combined, it’s not like this film is lacking in their absence.
No comments:
Post a Comment