Fat Godzilla Rules

I was recently pulled out of semi-retirement, where I basically sat in a back room letting my soul wither and die, to discuss the dark comedy of disaster that is the Fat Godzilla Controversy of 2014.

Oh no, they say he’s got to go.

I’m qualified to pontificate on this subject because I’ve spent a vast majority of my life imagining everyone around me as a mythical claymation stop-motion creature from a Ray Harryhausen movie or else watching every single monster movie ever made.

Godzilla was my favorite.

You would think from the poster that Godzilla and Megalon fought on top of the World Trade Center. You’d be wrong.

Rising from the depths of Tokyo Bay, destroying the Japanese cityscape, scorching the earth, wailing his signature metallic prehistoric screech. There wasn’t a behemoth better at getting you to stand up straight and run for your life.

He fought Mothra, Ghidrah, Mechagodzilla, Destroyah, Megalon, the Smog Monster, etc., etc., and not once did someone complain about how he looked doing it. The miraculous mass appeal of Godzilla is that he doesn’t give a shit how he looks to you. He topples cities, melts towers, and stomps on thousands of innocent fleeing civilians. He’s big and he’s proud. You are small and powerless, and, if he turns down your block, no amount of griping about his girth is going to save you.

Let’s be honest — you don’t want low-wattage, skinny half-assery in your reptilian monster movies. You want grand sweeping destruction! No one left alive! Smoking piles of wreckage! A big, hulking, fire-breathing creature born like a phoenix rising from the ashes of our nuclear mistakes!

You want Godzilla large and in charge. As Producer Thomas Tull said this week, “We think our Godzilla is just right and we’re not asking him to go on a diet, even for the red carpet.”

I, for one, plan to be there to cheer on the big guy the day he waddles his fat ass across screens tomorrow night to kick off the summer movie watching season!