EIC and Co-founder, @Polygon
Decades later, it plays like Dino De Laurentiis doing Frank Herbert on Drunk History.
Like that series of historical synopses, you’re told a lot and learn little. Sometimes the story (told through some of cinema’s finest ASMR self-mumbling) plays loose and clever and sometimes entire epochs pass as old men ramble about generals and politicians and priests that did something, somewhere at some point in time
Like so many other things in 1999, we didn’t appreciate what we had. Imagine Disney releasing any 2D feature today, let alone an animated symphonic sequel to the studio’s most artistically audacious financial folly.
Even the early CG look stunning!
And the “Rhapsody in Blue” NY sequence is an all-timer.
(Logging at 3am because this is the first thing my child wants to watch when he’s sick and can’t sleep.)
Hard to say what I disliked most:
The inconsistent and ever-changing rules
The vacant metaphor
The millennial “we live in a hell world” philosophy
Or the butt rock credits song
I think the creators meant well with their depiction of autism, but what a fucking whiff. Minor spoilers: That the demonic possession rules apply the same for neurotypical people and animals but not an autistic teenager because their brain is some sort of trap … I mean, come on.
Godzilla Minus One is the throwback movie that longtime Godzilla fans have been waiting for. This is an age of abundance for Godzilla media: Over the past seven years, as part of a partnership between Toho and Hollywood studios, the giant lizard received three animated films on Netflix, two U.S. movies, and an Apple TV series that premieres Nov. 17. Godzilla fans like me haven’t been left wanting. And yet something crucial has been missing from most of this media, something fundamental to the earliest films in the Godzilla franchise: terror.