Since 1954, Godzilla has been a staple of pop culture iconography. The original film dives into postwar trauma, the dangers of nuclear testing, the idea of science being used as both destroyer and savior, and, most importantly, the cycle of escalation. Since then, the character has seen countless iterations—some good, some great, some 1998’s Godzilla. While Godzilla has remained prevalent stateside, the American adaptations have never quite reached the same overall quality.

As the decades rolled on, plenty of Japanese iterations received acclaim, but few captured the worldwide conversation the kaiju deserved. That was until the end of 2023, when, ironically, pairing Oppenheimer with Godzilla Minus One felt like the ideal double feature. Not only did Minus One work beautifully as a spiritual return to the themes of the 1954 original, using Godzilla as a vehicle to explore Japanese survival and rebuilding, but it also made the majority of VFX in $200 million blockbusters look like they were directed by Ed Wood. Godzilla Minus One sparked a grassroots campaign that ultimately led to an Oscar win, turning Takashi Yamazaki’s film into a worldwide phenomenon. So, with that level of acclaim, how could we not get a sequel? Enter Godzilla Minus Zero.

With its world premiere set for the 64th New York Film Festival, Godzilla Minus Zero was ready to make its debut on one of the franchise’s grandest stages yet, premiering at one of the industry’s most prestigious film festivals in one of the biggest cities in the world.

You can use every adjective imaginable to describe Godzilla Minus Zero, but its sheer scope finds a way to surpass them all. But the biggest surprise? Takashi Yamazaki somehow takes a Godzilla film of this magnitude and turns it into such an emotional family drama that “a Godzilla movie has never made me cry” can officially be crossed off my bingo card. A Kaiju-sized W of a sequel!

Two years have passed since the events of Godzilla Minus One, and Japan continues the difficult process of rebuilding a country that was already brought to its knees before Godzilla somehow found a way to knock it even further down. As the nation slowly begins to reclaim some sense of normalcy and the possibility of peace finally feels within reach, a new threat emerges that once again puts everything they’ve fought so hard to rebuild in jeopardy. And honestly, that’s about as much as I’m willing to say. Godzilla Minus Zero is a film best experienced knowing as little as possible about where Yamazaki takes this story next.

Director/writer Takashi Yamazaki returns as the jack-of-all-trades, and once again, his direction and screenplay are wonderful. As with Minus One, Yamazaki refuses to do what so many American adaptations have done, and that’s to make the human characters second fiddle to the monster spectacle. Minus Zero’s screenplay is at its best when exploring the nuclear family and continuing to guide us through postwar Japan. What some may see as repetitive, I found to be a natural continuation, especially since Kōichi and Noriko’s relationship was one of the anchors that elevated Minus One beyond your traditional monster-mash film. By making Akiko a more centralized part of that dynamic, Yamazaki further explores the sacrifices a parent will, and sometimes must, make to protect their child. As a parent myself, that aspect completely engrossed me emotionally in their family dynamic and gave the film’s stakes an even greater weight. No matter how massive Minus Zero becomes, Yamazaki never loses sight of the family at the center of it all.

As with Minus One, Yamazaki continues to weave through Japan’s postwar response, delivering one of the franchise’s most impactful and somber examinations of the trauma left behind by the atomic bombs. The imagery of destruction that carried so much weight in Minus One continues here, at times evoking the devastating images of post-WWII Japan and the aftermath of the atomic bombings. Yamazaki allows those images to coincide with the destruction Godzilla leaves behind, creating a haunting visual reminder of the trauma that continues to hang over these characters and the country itself. That imagery extends beyond Japan as well, including an incredible set piece involving Godzilla, the Statue of Liberty, and New York City that simply needs to be seen to be believed. It’s a moment that will surely evoke a reaction on its own, but watching it unfold in New York City during the film’s world premiere added another layer to an already surreal sequence.

Ryunosuke Kamiki and Minami Hamabe continue to elevate the heart of the film. Their chemistry with each other and Sae Nagatani, who plays Akiko, gives the family dynamic a genuine emotional gravitas that makes the film’s biggest emotional moments land like a haymaker and, yes, brought on the waterworks. Alongside the trio, Hidetaka Yoshioka remains the film’s secret sauce. I found Noda to be such a wonderful supporting player in Minus One, and he continues that in Minus Zero, essentially navigating this world as its own Chief Brody. He may not be the one towering over the city, but his presence and understanding of the threat make him just as essential to the film’s larger battle against Godzilla.

Of course, what’s a Godzilla movie without our titular character? And Minus Zero is about as ambitious as it gets. Yamazaki, who is also responsible for the film’s VFX, delivers another grand visual spectacle, both on the ground and in the air. The destruction caused by Godzilla and… others has genuine weight behind it, making every bit of damage feel tangible rather than simply another CGI showcase. I’d even argue Yamazaki has somehow upped his Oscar-winning work on Minus One, culminating in one of the greatest climaxes of any Godzilla film yet.

The film’s sound design is equally impeccable, while Naoki Satō’s score perfectly weaves through dread, ambiance, and emotion. There’s always the question of whether a film operating on this massive a scale can find the perfect balance between spectacle and genuine emotion. Godzilla Minus Zero comes close. Damn close.

Following up Godzilla Minus One was always going to be a monstrous task. How do you follow a film that revitalized one of cinema’s most iconic characters, captured the attention of audiences around the world, and somehow walked away with an Academy Award in the process? You go bigger, but you never forget what made that film so special in the first place. Godzilla Minus Zero understands that the destruction means nothing if we don’t care about the people standing in its path. Yamazaki delivers the Kaiju-sized spectacle you’d expect from a sequel of this magnitude, but it’s Kōichi, Noriko and Akiko who once again give this story its beating heart. I walked in wondering how Yamazaki could possibly follow Minus One and walked out having laughed, cheered, and, somehow, cried during a Godzilla movie. Godzilla Minus Zero isn’t simply bigger. It proves there was still plenty of heart left beneath those enormous footsteps. A Kaiju-sized W, indeed.