GODZILLA MINUS ONE RETURNS TO THEATERS

On November 1, the subtitled edition of Godzilla Minus One returns to AMC theaters to commemorate this year's Godzilla Day. 

Godzilla Minus One received endless accolades for its special effects and engaging, character study of Ryunosuke Kamiki's Koichi Shikishima, a beleaguered kamikaze pilot who questions the validity of the Japanese Empire. Though Godzilla is prominently featured, the story is truly human driven, an allegory for solving life's towering conundrums.

Takashi Yamazaki's concept isn't only relatable in this respect, it's proven its melodramatic worth enough that kaiju fans rank alongside the 1954 original.  (Some even prefer it to the original.) 

Godzilla Minus One's re-release will be limited, so check local listings for theaters and showtimes. 

I saw Godzilla Minus One/Minus Color

I'm not so sure if black-and-white conversions from color movies guarantee worthy alternatives, but sometimes a movie's subject matter beckons such, as with Mad Max: Fury Road Chrome and Nightmare Alley 2021. (Also, word has it that Squirm looks damn spiffy in black and white; if only a print could be found!) 

Due to its brooding Moby Dick-meets-Lord Jim-meets-Jaws ambiance (and I've come to infer that the blend also contains traces of Norman Spinrad's Star Trek: "The Doomsday Machine"), Takashi Yamazaki's Godzilla Minus One is fascinating to behold in black and white, making it an ideal companion piece to Godzilla 1954/56, far more so than the black-and-white Godzilla Raids Again, one of those rarities (along with Return of the Fly and Curse of the Fly) that screams for colorization. 

There are times when the black-and-white Godzilla Minus One feels like kaiju noir, which I suppose also goes for the seventy-year-old take. It's not so much in its Godzilla portions, but rather among its human characters, as they strive to overcome an allegorical opponent and in the process achieve redemption. Sadness, desperation, hope and doubt (in particular through Ryuunisuke Kamiki's dejected Ensign Koichi Shikishima) come to constitute their black-and-white wasteland. 

With that said, Godzilla Minus One, as it stands in color, doesn't distract from its motivation. It's subdued in its palette, with just enough greyish-greens, golden-browns and electric-blues to enliven its scope. On that basis, I still prefer that version to its black-and-white variant, but either way, Godzilla Minus One is here to stay, gaining perpetual praise, no matter which pigmentation one favors. 

An Alternate Reality: I saw Godzilla Minus One

Toho has unleashed its newest, alternate-track sequel/prequel/reboot, Godzilla Minus One, written and directed by Takashi (Space Battleship Yamato) Yamasaki. 

The fable occurs at the close of WWII, just prior to the atomic-bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and Japan's surrender to the Allies. For the record, Minus One's timeframe is within range of Godzilla (Gojira) 1954 and stays in conceptual step with Ishiro Honda's founding production. Nevertheless, once Minus One gets rolling, it steers down a more intrinsic track, which is saying a lot, considering the original's sullen reverberation.   

Some have expressed concern that Minus One might depict Japan as a victim-without-provocation, when those with an honest view of history know that the Land of the Red Sun sealed its fate by attacking Pearl Harbor and teaming with Nazi Germany. Fortunately, Minus One is absent of any such heavy-handed, blame-game reflection (even as it offers no apology for the calamity the Axis spurred). It acknowledges yet marginalizes the WWII specifics, opting to elevate Godzilla's retold resurgence in allegory.

As such, Minus One's legendary behemoth is the most belligerent to date, churning the equivalent of a demonic plague for Japan, though the sideline view falls on a young man named Koichi Shikishma, played by Ryunosuke Kamiki. Shikishma is introduced as a reluctant, kamikaze pilot, who lands on the fabled Odo Island, where he encounters a rampaging dinosaur that will soon morph to even more dangerous heights (and abilities) due to radioactive remnants (a concept tested in Godzilla vs King Ghidorah). 

Kamiki's war-weathered performance exudes strength, fear and anger, in particular when he wrestles with self-sacrifice in light of a perceived, greater cause, only to realize that his dictatorial government desires elitist preservation over its common citizenry. 

Minus One's co-performers are just as worthy: Minami Himabe as Noriko Oishi (Shikishma's endearing, love interest); Sage Nagatami as Akiko (Oishi and Shikishma's adopted daughter); Sukura Ando as Sumiko Ota (the couple's impassioned neighbor); Munetaki Aoki's Sosaku Tachimana (an embittered, crackerjack mechanic); Karanosuki Susaki as Yoji Akitsu (brave captain of the Shinei Maru); Mio Tanaka as Tatsuo Hotto (brave captain of the destroyer, Yukikaze); Yuki Yamada as Shiro "Kid" Mizushima (a dutiful, novice sailor); Munetaka Aoki as Sosaku Takibana (a diligent, ex-Naval Airforce officer); and Hidetaka Yoshioka as Kenji Noda (a brilliant, weapons engineer and oceanic-mine expert, who devises an ambitious, twofold plan to destroy Godzilla). 

Because of its principals' shared purpose, Minus One works like David Gordon Green's Halloween and Exorcist reboots, where communal cooperation trumps despair, with generous allusions to Jaws, Moby Dick and Lord Jim along the survivalist course.   

On another (more basic) level, Minus One is a quality, kaiju adventure, which wastes little time in revealing its titular titan, all to the accompaniment of Naoki Satu's expressive, Ryuichi Sakamuto-esque score (in which Akira Ifukube's signature, Godzilla music intervenes with iconic impact). The monster effects are also exemplary, enough that it's impossible to tell if Godzilla is digitalized or animatronic, though in either/or case, Kozo Shibasaki's photography heightens the gnarly grandeur in ways that no previous, Toho chapter has done (and many look pretty damn good).  

Minus One will remain in theatrical release through December before visiting home-viewing venues, but to experience the movie's full, artistic impact, catch it on the big screen. There are other Toho pictures that are considered classics, but this one epitomizes every iota of the sprawling term.