I threw up my hands as I stepped off the bathroom scale, frustrated at myself for a variety of reasons — no one thing particularly dramatic, but the combination.
“Lord, help me be the man you intended me to be for the rest of my time,” I said out loud. “I could have been more than this all along, I know. Help me be more the rest of the way. Amen?”
I went through my office and paused at the door into the living room, leaning my hand against the door jamb.
The morning sun shone through the prism-like glass in my front door and cast a rainbow across my hand.
When God makes a promise, He is not exactly subtle.
I’ve been seeing a lot of TV commercials for various artificial intelligence products lately. Apparently I can use AI to coordinate expense accounts for a large business team, coach me through a job interview, set the itinerary for a vacation in a city I never heard of, schedule a boat rental, or draw my comic book.
More to my particular interests, I could use AI to suggest possible plot twists if I find myself stuck writing a story, or design book covers, or suggest ways to clean up the language or outline my novel, or write the advertising blurb for the new book. Heck, if I write the prompts properly, I could have AI write the book for me.
And here I thought AI was just the annoying little feature that corrects my spelling and tries to finish my sentences for me.
Clearly, I am a Luddite. I think all that creative work is the fun part. These daily visits all come out of my little brain with no input from a manufactured mind except for the aforementioned spell-check thing. When it looks like I’m trying to work stuff out on a page, that’s me trying to work stuff out on the page. I suppose I could do an AI prompt along the lines of, “Work this stuff out for me,” but why? I prefer to do my own thinking and my own homework, such as it is, thank you, mom.
I’m a big fan of real food, and organically grown food when I can afford it. And so it should be no surprise that I like organically created words, music and other art. You may or may not like my stuff, but you can be assured it’s my stuff.
The Godfather, Part II. The Empire Strikes Back. Aliens. That’s all I can think of right now.
As a rule, the sequel to an outstanding motion picture is not as good as the first film. Those three are among the handful of exceptions where the second chapter is as great or arguably greater. And that, I’m a little disappointed to say, was my first thought Thursday evening as the end credits began to roll after Godzilla Minus Zero.
Godzilla Minus One remains not only my favorite Godzilla movie but one of my favorite films of all time. I should have known that the thrill I felt at the end of that movie was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Let me try to set that disappointment aside.
Takashi Yamazaki’s new offering is an outstanding achievement in motion picture making. His last film earned the Academy Award for its special effects wizardry, and the special effects in this one are three times as powerful. I love movie music, and the musical score of this film is as brilliant as I’ve ever heard. I attended my first viewing in a Dolby Atmos theater surrounded by the sound system, which may be an undue influence, but I would nominate this film for the award in sound achievement as well.
I would also nominate Yamazaki for his direction and his screenplay, but he should have earned those recognitions last time, so I will not hold out hope.
It was delightful to see the characters from Minus One again, having a chance to enjoy their happily-ever-after in the days before a new menace rises. It was compelling to see them meet new challenges and new complications. My heart was appropriately rended at the heart-rending scene at the end of the movie, involving a little girl and her adoptive parents, and my heart soared at the final resolution. I loved those characters. I still love them.
The film also has echoes of the very first movie in the series way back in 1954, when the scientist who has developed a technology to conquer the monster wrestles with the horror that could result if the weapon is ever placed in less scrupulous hands. I adore when this franchise leans into its anti-war themes.
This is one of the greatest Godzilla movies ever made, and the folks at Toho Co. Ltd. once again proved that they make the best films in this 72-year-old franchise. The American movies of the last decade are pretty darn good, but the Japanese best understand the heart and soul of the Godzilla saga.
And in that last paragraph lies the answer to why I began this little essay with a sense of disappointment: This is one of the greatest Godzilla movies ever made. I consider Godzilla Minus One one of the greatest movies, of any stripe, ever made.
Without reservation, I recommend Godzilla Minus Zero to my friends who enjoy kaiju and other monster movies. Without reservation, I recommend Godzilla Minus One to my friends who enjoy movies, period. That’s the whole difference.
