REVIEW: ‘Shin Godzilla’ Is More Relevant Than Ever

Nearly a decade after its original release, Shin Godzilla stomps its way into North American theaters, giving eager fans a chance to witness what, until Godzilla Minus One, was the top-grossing Godzilla film in Japan’s history. Directed by Hideaki Anno and Shinji Higuchi with a screenplay from Anno, this origin story features the legendary kaiju as we’ve never seen it before, with its evolutionary changes keeping everyone guessing. Tying everything together is an apt criticism of bureaucratic inefficiency in the heat of disaster, culminating in a final shot that continues to spark conversation years later. 

Shin Godzilla starts immediately with its dilemma. An eruption of some sort in Tokyo Bay creates a ripple effect of chaos, with the government response quickly revealed to be riddled with paralyzing red tape. The initial disaster, a damaged bridge, features a disaster response rooted in reality. The message from government officials to impacted citizens oscillates between laughable and frustrating, with mobile footage captured by those on the ground filling in the gaps of information faster than the official updates to the Prime Minister.

The emergence of the titular Godzilla from Tokyo Bay highlights the weaknesses in the bureaucratic process. Forced out of the sea by its rapid evolution, blood forcing its way out of its gills, Godzilla’s emergence, despite its googly-eyed expression, has an underlying agony. As it wriggles its way onto land, its destruction mirrors the 2011 tsunami and the aftermath left in its wake. The contrast between government officials sleepwalking their way toward decisions and the slow trajectory of Godzilla’s path naturally amplifies frustration and tension.

Shin Godzilla demonstrates the frustration of a government trapped in self-made paralysis.

Clocking in at two hours, Shin Godzilla keeps everyone on their toes. The legendary creature has been used as a symbol for many things since its creation. Here, it replaces any number of disasters: an earthquake, a nuclear event, or a tsunami. In this case, it embodies all three, with its nuclear capabilities eventually manifesting in a raver-like laser lightshow that leaves breathtaking destruction once deployed. The parallels between Godzilla’s impact on Japan in Shin Godzilla and the Fukushima nuclear accident, the 2011 earthquake, and the tsunami are hard to ignore.

The protagonist, Rando Yaguchi (Hiroki Hasegawa), is a maverick—a much-needed force of resistance against the bureaucratic structure that immobilizes the Japanese government. He isn’t trying to climb a ladder to a better position, and quickly becomes frustrated by the process of taking action. Yaguchi never goes too far in his performance, instead filling the character with a wry sensibility that makes him all the more relatable. As a single cog in a machine purposely designed to slow down, he is determined to keep applying pressure until things move along.

Acting opposite him are Yutaki Takenouchi as Hideki Akasaka, aide to the Prime Minister of Japan, and Satomi Ishikara as Kayoko Anne Patterson, a Special Envoy to the President of the United States. All three are tethered by varying government processes, but as things continue to escalate, all find ways to navigate the red tape. Yet, it is clear that Akasaka and Patterson have their ambitions for greater political success. Sadly, as a character meant to be a native English speaker, Ishikara’s limitations are distractingly apparent. 

Godzilla still reigns supreme, but the VFX shows its age.

In a world where we now have Legendary’s MonsterVerse, Shin Godzilla serves as another glaring reminder of how essential the human element is in these films. Don’t get me wrong. I love the high-intensity monster smash-up the MonsterVerse embodies, but it’s never wholly nailed its human characters (except in the Monarch series, which has more time and dedicated focus on its ensemble). Humanity in all of its ugliness and joy, its survivability, and destructive nature, is at the center of Shin Godzilla, and is what makes it shine.

That’s not to say Godzilla doesn’t shine here, too. Its multiple evolutions and the science behind it are a damning condemnation of humanity’s continued negligence and impact on nature. It is a creature literally trying to make sense of its circumstances and reacting accordingly to its rapidly changing makeup. However, what helps Shin Godzilla stand on solid ground is its story and the human characters reacting and adjusting to the creature that’s emerged on the scene.

Where Shin Godzilla struggles a little is in the execution of its VFX, more noticeable on a large theatrical screen. Godzilla itself fares alright, with its multiple designs seamlessly integrated into its surroundings. But once the action starts to hitch up, the VFX limitations strain to the limit, with daytime scenes featuring CGI trains and drones glaringly obvious. Nighttime sequences look better, with a downed power grid allowing for captivating, glowing shots of Godzilla ominously outlined. 

It is understandable how Shin Godzilla succeeded at the box office nearly a decade ago. The strength of its story still stands today, with its criticism of a paralyzed government proving to be more universally needed than ever. Yet, it is the terrifying truth behind Godzilla’s origins in this film that looms ominously, with that final shot on its frozen form speaking volumes. Not quite a message filled with hope, but a nod that the work is never done when mankind is its own worst enemy.

Shin Godzilla is currently playing in select theaters in North America.