Godzilla: King of the Monsters

I liked 2014's Godzilla.  Is that okay?  I just want to make sure before I continue.  I reviewed it (poorly) upon its release, and I know that I didn't give it a perfect rating.  Because I concede that it wasn't perfect!  It wasn't quite the G-flick that fans wanted.  This year's Godzilla: King of the Monsters is the G-flick that fans - fuck it, I'll use the proper pronoun - we wanted.  It's the big-budget creature feature that we deserved.  I've seen others say that, and I'll admit that it sounds immodest, maybe even audacious.  But goddamn!  American kaiju carnivores have been waiting for DECADES to see this kind of monster mobocracy.  That was a pathetic display of alliteration.  I'm rusty, I suppose.

Sure, I can hang out with 1998's Godzilla on a goofy level, but there were no other "titans."  I've already said that I dug the G-bash from five years ago, but aside from the title star, there were no recognizable properties.  This son of a bitch threw three non-G Toho creations at us, and sweet fuck, they were divine.  Mothra?  Gorgeous.  A snack!  Rodan?  Badass.  He has never looked this intimidating.  King Ghidorah?  Jeeeeeeepers cunt.  It feels juvenile to use the word "terrifying" to describe anything in a Godzilla movie.  Friends, Monster Zero (and yes, it's referred to by this handle on more than one occasion) is terrifying.  The realistic special effects make it easy to imagine if Ghidorah were a corporeal being and it's a scary prospect.

Needless to say, Godzilla Vontavious Porter (don't tell him that I used his Christian name) looks fantastic.  The combination of CGI and motion-capture has been a wondrous thing for "giant beastie" reels, or at least the ones that haven't been hurried to video shelves.  The humans?  I was pleasantly surprised to find that the characters are considerably more fleshed out than they were in the original.  Now, that's not saying a hell of a whole lot.  I wasn't fucking moved to tears, but Millie Bobby Brown's Madison is agreeable.  She's just Eleven with longer hair, but still.  Kyle Chandler's performance as Mark is grounded.  If you don't blink, you'll catch a character arc (I know; I was astounded).  Mark's transmutation from Starchy Asshole to Temperate Padre feels natural.

I was bound to encounter flaws, but the only glitch that bothered me was the forced, bizarre employment  of humor.  We're stuck with a token "comedy relief" fellow, and I'm not talking about Thomas Middleditch.  His one-liners were tolerable.  That other guy.  Did he have a name?  He was given the most awkward dialogue, and none of it worked.  Thankfully, that's the sole wart I recall seeing after experiencing the eruptive, diverting fun of Godzilla: King of the Monsters.  The pace is snappy, the battle sequences are meteoric and the visuals...egads, give a damn hand to director Michael Dougherty.  Everything is beautiful.  The man has three grand slams under his belt, the preceding two being Krampus and Trick 'r Treat.  Keep at it, boy!

I don't feel like I've said enough, but I have a habit of driving points home with as few words as possible.  In all honesty, this film warrants a hundred paragraphs of praise.  Maybe write some of your own.  I can't do all the work!