It’s a Godzilla Christmas

The Lizard & Yuletide Joy

Cup of Keith
Counter Arts
16 min readDec 23, 2023

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Image photoshopped by the author, containing elements from It’s A Wonderful Life, via Liberty Films, and Godzilla (1954) via TOHO

A few months ago I saw a promotional poster for Godzilla Minus One, a new Godzilla movie from Japanese film studio Toho Studios. Toho Studios is the production company that made the original Godzilla film as well as its large catalog of follow up films. Godzilla, one of Japan’s most recognized cultural icons, is back on the silver screen and he’s ready to terrify viewers.

I saw the promotional poster and jumped with excitement, though I’m not extraordinarily well versed in the Godzilla universe, as a kid I remember going to Toys R’ Us with my grandfather on my birthday. He let me pick out any item as a gift. For whatever reason, I picked out a recently reissued VHS copy of the 1962 movie King Kong vs. Godzilla. At a young age I was fascinated by King Kong. I thought giant gorillas were cool and I had seen the original film at my grandparents house. Peter Jackson hadn’t yet made his rebooted 2005 movie and I had a vague memory of seeing the 1998 Godzilla movie starring Matthew Broderick.

Through the years I would enjoy Godzilla to varying degrees. I played Godzilla: Destroy All Monsters Melee on my Nintendo Gamecube, I saw the 2014 Bryan Cranston movie in theaters, and then a few years later I saw, to my enjoyment, the 2016 film Shin Godzilla from Toho Studios. I was surprised when I heard about Godzilla Minus One coming to American theaters. Godzilla Minus One is not only a new Toho Studios Godzilla film, but also a complete stand alone title, not a sequel to the well received Shin Godzilla from seven years ago.

For the past few months I had kept this upcoming film on my radar. It’s commonly said that only the Japanese understand how to make a good Godzilla film. Seeing that Godzilla is an anti-nuclear horror story detailing the tragedy of the atomic bomb, anytime an American studio makes their version it loses all meaning rather quickly.

A few weeks ago I was at a local bookstore. On the shelves I saw a book I never knew existed, Godzilla and Godzilla Raids Again. Two novellas written by Shigeru Kayama and translated by Jeffrey Angles. These two novellas were published in Japan in 1955 close to the release of the second Godzilla movie, also titled Godzilla Raids Again. They had never been translated into English until October of this year. Both stories were in one book. I bought it without looking too far into what they were. In order to get a sturdy grasp on the 1950’s context of Godzilla, I read them before seeing the upcoming film. Shigeru Kayama was one of the original screenwriters for the first two Godzilla movies. He wrote these novellas as a way to further capitalize on the success of the original film, and to reassure his audience that Godzilla has an anti-nuclear message. There’s even a brief foreword, written by Kayama, in which he states, “Godzilla [is] a creature that doesn’t actually exist anywhere here on the planet. However, atomic and hydrogen bombs, which have taken on the form of Godzilla in this story, do exist.”

Photo By University of Minnesota at www.upress.umn.edu

I read this cheery tale, and watched the incredible new film, just in time for Christmas. Though it might not be overt, or even intentional, I believe that Godzilla Minus One is a subversive Christmas movie. Christmas movies have one common thread which ties them all together. Our protagonist must have a cynical outlook on their life but by film’s end they’re grateful for it. The redemption of the cynic.

George Bailey, in Its’ a Wonderful Life, is a great example. As the movie progresses George starts to lose his purpose and nearly kills himself, but by film’s end he finds his purpose and his love for life once more. George Bailey is a cynical person who has lost sight of what’s important, but with a little push in the right direction he finds his way. The same can be said about nearly every main character in a Christmas movie. The Grinch in How the Grinch Stole Christmas absolutely hated Christmas but by the end of the movie he is overwhelmed with Christmas joy. Charlie Brown goes through a similar journey. The constant commercialism and consumerism of the Christmas season is bringing him down. He needs help from his friends to realize what Christmas is all about. The list goes on and on. Kevin McCallister in Home Alone learns to love and appreciate his family, John McClane in Die Hard falls back in love with his wife, Ebenezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol, arguably the most famous example, realizes how terrible of a boss he’s been and actually gives back to his community.

These are all fairly well known stories that feature Christmas at the forefront. Christmas is the genre. Christmas is the setting. They’re screaming Christmas at you with a thousand elves tinkering away at various toys and gadgets. And I’m not criticizing it, I love it. The message behind these movies is to appreciate what you have. Redeeming the cynic is the healthiest thing a cynic can do. With this in mind, I always keep an eye out for movies that feature the “redemption of the cynic” but have nothing to do with Christmas.

Before Charles Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol, it was common practice for people to celebrate Christmas by telling Ghost Stories. And what do you know? In A Christmas Carol, Scrooge is visited by a multitude of ghosts. In fact, the whole title of Dickens’ book is actually A Christmas Carol. In Prose. Being a Ghost Story of Christmas. I only know this because as I sat down to write this article, I got excited about various Christmas movies. The following day I decided to go buy my own copy of A Christmas Carol and read it as soon as possible. I ended up reading it all in one sitting that same evening. As it turns out, Charles Dickens is a good writer. Who knew?

So I always find it interesting when extremely dark movies are released around the Holidays. It feels like a return to form. Godzilla Minus One is not only a dark, dramatic, and horrifying take on the classic Godzilla story, but it’s also a subtle Christmas story, given that our protagonist redeems his cynical outlook by the end of the film.

But before I dive into that, I want to remark on its setting. Godzilla Minus One is a period piece taking place in Tokyo immediately after World War II. Another trend in the December film release cycle is the period piece. Movies like Darkest Hour in 2017, Titanic in 1997, and even King Kong in 2005, are all period pieces. King Kong being a work of fiction taking place during the great depression, Darkest Hour being a biopic on Winston Churchill, and Titanic being Historical Fiction, all three of these movies give us a sense of “the way things were,” and “hard working people, getting the job done.” Watching these movies I always walk out thinking “Man, I wish I lived in a tavern with warm lighting and cold beer. I wish I was sitting in a leather wingback chair focusing on a mounted headpiece of a mountain lion I killed. I wish I could stoke a fire and write a poem about a lilypad. I wish all of my meals were stew, and I wish I was fighting in a war RIGHT NOW.” O, dear reader, unfortunately it’s 2023 and the only thing that can inspire me to read Charles Dickens is the lizard himself, Godzilla.

So yes, Godzilla Minus One is a period piece. And it’s significantly darker than anything in Warner Brothers’ recent cinematic universe. It’s even darker than Toho Studio’s last Godzilla movie. Is it darker than the original film from 1954? Arguably no. The 1954 film is in direct response to the atom bomb. It would never come to be if the United States hadn’t dropped the bomb on Japan at the end of the war. I’m sure the people who lived through the nuclear explosions in Japan, who then saw Godzilla in theaters less than ten years later, were struck with emotions that I can’t even begin to explain. But I always love looking at a well done remake and comparing it to its direct predecessor.

Hollywood will not hesitate to remake a film. If something was good once, it has to be good again, and again, and again. Take The Coen Brothers remake of True Grit, another period piece released in December of 2010. The remake is leagues ahead of the original 1969 film starring John Wayne. It’s prettier, funnier, more action packed and yet more somber than the original. I’ve watched it multiple times, I’ve seen the John Wayne movie once and I read the book last winter. The Coen Brothers knocked it out of the park — which is to be expected. Now compare this remake to the 2016 remake of The Magnificent Seven, directed by Antoine Fuqua. Another famous western, one that was remade and turned into a straight up action movie with boring characters and a story designed to bring us from action scene to action scene without thinking at all.

Remakes are okay, as long as they’re competent. Antoine Fuqua, who is a competent director — every guy I’ve ever worked with gets really jazzed when they watch the opening scene in Training Day — probably wasn’t chomping at the bit to remake The Magnificent Seven. He probably did it so that he could get the funding to make a different movie. Maybe that was Emancipation, or Equalizer 2, or even Equalizer 3. Regardless, every single movie that’s remade today will be made with a higher budget and better technology. And it’ll be made with people who love the source material. But it takes passion, competency, and desire, to remake a truly remarkable film. The Coen Brothers did it, and Antoine Fuqua didn’t.

But we’re talking about Godzilla. And Godzilla Minus One is a Christmas movie? It’s a period piece, ghost story, redemption of the cynic, Christmas movie? And Keith read Charles Dickens. Good for him! It’s about damn time. I’ve always said “Keith needs to read Dickens like the dickens!” And I did! I’m sitting at a bar down the street from my apartment and the owner just commented that I look insane. I’m tapping away at a keyboard and there’s two books in front of me — Godzilla, and A Christmas Carol.

Godzilla Minus One is a competent remake. It’s only better than the original because of the competency behind it. If a talented director and a good screenwriter completely and fully understand the source material, it’s inevitable that the remake will be better. We all know that cameras used today and film-making techniques have only improved since 1954. This isn’t to say that we need to rely on CGI to make a movie. An actor standing on a green screen reacting to some guy off camera waving a tennis ball around is still sloppy and terrible. But a passionate filmmaker using the tools they have to recreate a masterpiece is a joy to see. Godzilla Minus One is only better because the original is so good. And in fact, as I write every sentence in this paragraph, I’m jumping back and forth unsure of which film is better. In a historical context, the original reigns supreme. It’ll never be matched because the people who lived in Japan when the bombs were dropped saw the movie and knew exactly what they were seeing. It’s been nearly 80 years since then, and Godzilla Minus One only exists in that context. If it’s better, it’s because movie-making has gotten better. We’ve sharpened our blades and dipped our pen in nicer ink. Filmmakers have learned how to make better movies. But they need old movies in order to make them.

Photo Source Godzilla.com

So let’s dive in, and spoilers for those who haven’t seen the film. The main character of Godzilla Minus One is a kamikaze pilot named Kōichi Shikishima. Thankfully for him, he got scared and decided not to crash his airplane into American troops. He flies his plane back to Odo Island where he was stationed. Guilt starts to set in, as he’s failed his duty as a kamikaze pilot. Later that night, Godzilla appears stomping around the island. Kōichi has the chance to jump into his plane and shoot Godzilla before he rampages, possibly killing the lizard and preventing him from hurting anyone, but he’s scared. He fails to shoot down Godzilla, and in turn, Godzilla kills nearly everyone. Kōichi survives and returns home to Tokyo. Once home, he’s reminded by a neighbor that if he had only fought better, or, crashed his plane and ended his life, then maybe Japan would have won the war. His refusal to sacrifice himself cost Japan their victory. His refusal to shoot Godzilla was at the sacrifice of his fellow soldiers. Godzilla is a manifestation of his guilt. He’s too scared to kamikaze, so Godzilla appears. He’s too scared to shoot, so Godzilla kills. Badduhbing badduhboom.

This guilt is carried with him throughout the film. He’s a veteran with PTSD who struggles with personal relationships. He lives in a shack with a random woman named Noriko Ōishi and an orphaned child, Akiko. As the movie progresses he reveals that although he behaves like a husband and a father, he doesn’t want to be a husband and a father. He doesn’t think he’s worthy. His guilt is eating away at him.

That is, until Godzilla attacks Tokyo, killing Noriko. With her death, he realizes that he loved her. He’s now left to raise Akiko on his own. If only he shot down Godzilla on Odo Island! If only he crashed his plane into enemy troops! Japan would’ve won the war! He’d never have to know love and loss. He’d never have to raise a child alone. If only Japan won the war then the bomb wouldn’t have been dropped. Godzilla wouldn’t have attacked. If only he kamikazed!

But that didn’t happen. He’s a coward. He’s worthless. Life isn’t worth living. He’s failed his job, his family, and his community. Just like George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life.

And I don’t want to spoil the movie. The ending is phenomenal, and without telling you too much— I’ve already told you a decent amount of the scenes involving Godzilla himself — Our protagonist is cynical. He doesn’t want the life he has, and once it’s taken away he contemplates if life is worth living. By films end, the script is flipped and he gets everything he could ever want. And everything he could ever want is actually everything he already had.

Likewise, George Bailey gets everything he could ever want by the end of It’s a Wonderful Life. That being, the life he already had. That’s why it’s called It’s a Wonderful Life, because life is wonderful, and you’re currently living it regardless of if you want to or not.

Die Hard, Home Alone, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, A Charlie Brown Christmas, and A Christmas Carol all feature a character who is cynical and upset. By film’s end they learn to love the life they’ve been living all along. Nothing changes in the world, but something changes in them. The cynic is redeemed. Or in the case of Godzilla Minus One, a veteran with survivor’s guilt learns to let go of that guilt.

Shigeru Kayama, the screenwriter for the first two Godzilla films and the writer of the novellas Godzilla & Godzilla Raids Again, was anti atomic-bomb. But he was also a Japanese leftist who was directly opposed to the cruelty shown by Japanese imperialistic soldiers. He goes so far as to be disappointed by the ending of Godzilla Raids Again. There’s a strong point to be made in the original Godzilla. The hero, Dr. Daisuke Serizawa, is a scientist who kills Godzilla with his invention, the oxygen destroyer. The oxygen destroyer is so dangerous that he doesn’t want other people to know how it works. So when he utilizes it, he uses it to take himself down with Godzilla. A scientist uses his morals to not only kill Godzilla, but also kill himself in the process. Kayama wanted to keep the focus on science and away from the military. In his mind, the military was barbaric, cruel, and disgusting. Which is a fair understanding if you dip your toe into the history of the Japanese military in World War II. Kayama wrote the sequel, Godzilla Raids Again. A decent sequel, which incorpates a new giant monster, Anguiru. Godzilla and Anguiru fight each other in Osaka, which was Japans second largest city at the time. Godzilla wins the fight and then disappears into the ocean.

By film’s end, and book’s end, Godzilla is suffocated by avalanche in northern Japan. Military planes circle around him as he’s standing at the bottom of two snow capped peaks. They fire missiles into the mountainside, causing an avalanche and killing Godzilla. In both stories Godzilla is suffocated. The Oxygen Destroyer in the first film separates oxygen from H2O, killing all aquatic life. In the second film he’s suffocated beneath snow. Kayama walked away from the Godzilla franchise after finishing the second film because he was opposed to the Japanese military intervening in these affairs. He wanted scientists to save the day.

Photo Source astoundingbeyondbelief.tumblr.com, still from Godzilla (1954) via TOHO

And this is important in Godzilla Minus One. The main character is military personnel. He’s a kamakazi pilot who never saw kamakazi. The military wanted him to kill himself, and he ran away. Kenji Noda, a naval engineer who leads a team of former soldiers to destroy Godzilla, mentions in a speech how it’s inhumane for the Japanese government to build fighter aircrafts that aren’t equipped with an ejection button. They wanted their pilots to stay in the plane until the very end. These soldiers were never supposed to come back from war, and thats why our protagonist has so much guilt. He comes home!

Our hero has survivor’s guilt. When Godzilla attacks Tokyo he survives while the woman he loves gets annihilated. When he thinks about the war he’s reminded of his failure and cowardice, leading to multiple deaths. These memories haunt him and wake him up at odd hours only to remind him that he’s still alive. He’s going to live every single day until the day he dies, and thats life.

At times it doesn’t feel like a wonderful life, it feels like a hard life. I’ve been writing this article over the course of two weeks in various cafe’s, restaurants, bars, and at my own dining room table. I’m currently at a bar I’ve never been to. Cody’s Pub on Paulina. One of the patrons, a man named Tuck, has been here since before I arrived at 2 pm. He’s been buying people shots all day. As of writing this he’s bought me four.

I prefer to write in bars because they’re empty in the middle of the day. People have romanticized reading in cafes. Cafes are small and cozy, but they remain in constant motion. A regular at a cafe will come in for a coffee and take it to go, which means that the front door is always swinging back and forth while different people in different shoes leave scuff marks along the floor, traffic never stops. A regular at a bar sits and stays for an extended period. Nobody at a bar takes a shot, or a beer, or a cocktail to go. When I’m writing I try to write at bars so that I’m not distracted by the multitudes of people who come for a brief period, only to leave with their coffee. Today at Cody’s Pub, Tuck is talking to everyone, myself included.

“I’d like to buy a shot for that sexy man with the long hair and mustache.” Tuck is pointing at me, and shouting. I laugh, thank him for the compliment and the shot. The other people in the vicinity smile, and I introduce myself. This bar is kind. On Tuck’s right is Chris. A married man, retired, with his dog. On his left is Josh. Josh’s screen reads Microsoft Outlook. I’m not sure what he does for a living but he does it, today, at Cody’s Pub. All three of them know everyone here, not that there’s a lot of people. There’s two girls chatting at the end of the bar, and a couple of staff members are setting up Christmas decorations. Everyone’s in love with the bar tender.

Josh and I agreed that drinking beer in the middle of the day will put you to sleep, so we’ve both ordered vodka red bulls. If this bar served coffee, I’d be drinking coffee. Tuck stays for hours, even after both Josh and Chris leave and go care for business elsewhere. As the afternoon turns into evening, Tuck continues to buy everyone shots. We’re all his best friend. We’re all laughing with everything he says, even as his shots interrupt this article I’m writing. But as the night goes on Tuck gets quieter and quieter. At one point he says at a nearly hushed tone, “have I been using my outdoor voice this whole time?” A person sitting at the bar smirks, and someone else says “don’t worry about it Tuck.” Twenty minutes later Tuck walks home alone in the dark and cold without a jacket.

George Bailey has been to this bar, he left wanting to end his life. He came back happy to have been born. People were asking the bartender if Tuck was okay. She said that he’ll be fine.

I’m not sure what he was thinking as he left Cody’s Pub last Thursday, maybe he spent too much money on people he hardly knows, maybe six pm was too late for a Thursday night. I’m not sure if he was aware that his presence made Cody’s Pub feel like a friendly place. As a non regular who’d never stepped foot into that establishment, the constant use of his “outdoor voice” and the multiple rounds of shots, gave me a sense of familiarity that I wasn’t expecting. That we laughed when he talked because he was bringing us joy. George Bailey learned how he brought warmth and happiness to the people in his life. So did Kōichi Shikishima when he returned home from war. And so do you, as you’ve made it to the end of this article.

Thanks for being here and Merry Christmas!

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