Conflicted

Rating: 6/10 (17 May 2014)

My disclaimer is that I saw the film once, and did not take any notes. Usually, I view a film a few times before drawing any sort of conclusion.
The film opens with a methodically paced family scene that works mostly because of the audience's expectation of an impending disaster, as well as Bryan Cranston's solid portrayal of an engineer agonized by the death of his wife. During these scenes, small details are played up (the fact that the disaster happens on his birthday, attention to small objects) and these details prove to be largely irrelevant to the overall film.
The inclusion of so much information seems to be a shortcoming of the film makers and/or writers, as this information goes nowhere and comments on nothing.
Ken Watanabe was excellent choice, though his character has very few lines. He is able to sell the glaring-into-the-distance-with-a-look-that-says-more-than-words Godzilla stare. So he and Cranston, at first, appear as though they will be the solid leads to carry the film.
Unfortunately, after the Cranston character dies we realize that the lead is his Blandy McBlandness naval officer of a son. A Naval Officer who diffuses bombs...and...oh my god, there is a bomb to diffuse! Though he...doesn't have to actually ever do that, but he's along for the ride anyway to save his family or input-plot-point-here.
Therein lies my biggest problem with the film, Blandy McBlandness, his wife Ms McBlandness and their son Sam McBlandness. Their family struggle is supposed to be a central element, and not only does it not matter, but their plight is a useless contrivance aimed at coercing the average viewer into caring.
SOUND: The sound in the film is exceptional, though it should be noted that it is ever-present. Even in the most tense moments, the music remains constant, so much so that I was left with the impression that there was a 123 minute orchestral score to accompany the film. I'm not commenting on whether or not this is a good or bad thing, but rather just commenting on its presence.
I believe the score is there mostly to convey the sense that what the viewer is experiencing is "epic" and tied together in an "epic" fashion. Epic, as a style, has been the new norm in Hollywood cinema, so much so that those who do not abide by the expectations of "epic" create the films that currently stand out.
Honestly, I have conflicting opinions regarding the sound.
VISUALS: Visually this is one of the most beautiful films that has ever been. Good God, all of the scenes look great. There are so many moments of beautiful destruction, of well-choreographed camera work and of just mind-numbing eye candy that you just give up in considering how great it looks and just accept that it's damn-near perfect in that regard.
One thing I will comment on, that isn't so much a matter of the visuals themselves, but rather a choice on how to implement those visuals, is the portrayal of massive destruction and raw torquing forces. This choice falls into the bullshitty category of "Transformers physics." What I mean by what I have designated "Transformers physics" is the portrayal of forces capable of ripping apart buildings, of causing earthquakes, of creating a wake of civilization-ending-destruction in its path—that sort of force—and all the while, little people are running safely away from it—just barely making it, barley surviving every...single...time. So much so that you are embedded with the sense that the lead characters are in no danger, no matter what forces are involved. Such a knowledge of "safe violence" sucks the power out of the visuals.
CONCLUSION:
The family nonsense simply did not work. Short from Bryan Cranston selling the f***ing hell out of average writing, it was just a waste of time. The humans in the story are %100 percent irrelevant. Had they sat at home and ate Hot Pockets, the result would have been identical. They were dealing with forces far beyond themselves, and the story should have reflected such a powerlessness.
The soldiers in the film suit up Call of Duty style solely for aesthetic purposes. There is no point to their tactical awareness (taking cover behind cars, aiming in with their fingers off the trigger or even them having rifles). There is zero point in so much of what they do—other than for the sake of looking the part on film.
From a purely scientifically objective and critical viewpoint, every bit of monstery goodness was motherf***ing awesome. There should have been more of it. That may be the mindless meathead in me that wants to see Godzilla destroy stuff, but honestly, he was in very little of the film. Godzilla received the entrances and fight scenes he deserved but at very limited screen time in a very lengthy movie.
The classic Godzilla film elements were mirrored in the film:
Godzilla is somehow the underdog, and yet the alpha.
Godzilla is the peoples champion.
He has to be losing a large fight for an extended time.
He has to go down Hulk-Hogan style, only to pull out of it
and claim victory.
Finally, Jesus-style, he has to appear to have died, only to rise again. Ken Watanabe sells the Godzilla-Jesus amazingly well, as by his longing stare one can see how devastated he is by the loss of Godzilla—as if the limitlessness of nature were somehow quantified and mitigated by Godzilla's death. Then Watanabe brings it home with another stare—the awe-stricken relief and reverence at Godzilla's resurrection, as though his boyish faith in the king of monsters was always warranted.
I am with Watanabe and his thousand-yard stare. I have a childhood reverence for the king of monsters but am conflicted by the modern seriousness that seems to demand that such a film be taken seriously.