GODDAMMIT KIDS THESE DAYS.

(All the spoilers below.)

As I watched Godzilla this weekend, I found myself tuning out the bulk of the movie in favor of something far more entertaining.

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See, after the movie took the genius route of killing off two of the four best actors in the movie in the first act — the criminally barely-noticed Juliette Binoche, and that guy, what's his name? Oh yeah, Bryan Cranston, the amazing actor the trailers tried to convince you was the main character of this shebang — after all of that, I turned to Ken Watanabe with what remained of my hope. I had been abandoned to suffer a movie deeply afflicted with Boring Stoic White Male Hero Syndrome, saddled with Cardboard Pretty White Wife Waiting for Hubby to Come Home and a healthy dose of Think of the Wide-Eyed Children.

Come on, Ken. You can make this movie.

But you're not going to, sadly. You get to serve as the voice of Japanese wisdom, whose greatest contributions to the plot are to 1) dramatically say Godzilla's name first, and 2) gravely remind Americans that they bombed Japan and are responsible for the misery and anxiety about radiation that led to the development of this whole Godzilla monster concept in the first place. Feel bad, David Strathairn. But feel worse that you and Watanabe, capable actors, are being forced to play characters so hollow I can't even call them stereotypes.

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No, there would be no help from the cast. Our hero had two facial expressions. Our heroine bravely choked back tears, looked shocked, and ran a lot. Our kid looked vulnerable a lot. Who to turn to with my emotional investment now?

Well... I know this is a radical idea, but...why not the big G, the entire reason I'm sitting in this theater? I'm here for Godzilla, guys. I'm here to see him look awesome, sound awesome, be an awesomely destructive force of nature.

Instead, I got Godzilla: Let's Watch Godzilla Destroy Things Through Often Obstructed Views While We Focus On the People Because You Clearly Came For Them, Because The Movie Is Totally Called People.

Personally? I prefer my own version: Godzilla Gran Torino. As the movie progressed, Godzilla's inner monologue ran in my head. Went a little something like this.

GOD. DAMN. IT.

I was asleep, you know. I was fucking ASLEEP, nice and cozy deep under the oceans, doing no damage. You know, in fact, DESPITE this film's efforts to convince you that I needed to be bombed repeatedly and destroyed (thanks for that, by the way, it tickled), I've actually been shown to be entirely benign here. Not a threat. Millions of years old, and contentedly napping, not smashing anyone's skyscrapers.

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And then you wake up those gigantic bugsters, and what's worse, they're fucking TEENAGERS. Thinking the world belongs to them, just eating you out of nuclear arsenal right and left, no thank you, all because they want to get some action.

And what are you waiting for? Humans, you're seriously out of ideas after "nuke it!"? Is that... is that the only verb in your vocabulary? No, seriously, is it?

But fine. Fiiiiiiine. I didn't have anything better to do. So sure, up I go, to deal with these damn kids. Destroy some cities. Get shot at for my troubles. Gah, these damn kids, thinking they're something special. I'm Godzilla, motherfucker, GET OFF MY LAWN.

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And if we're done here, which we better be — I just gave this one an internal cleanse from hell — I would really like to get back to sleep. Do you have any idea how much stress millions of years will put on your joints? When I use them, I want to use them for something awesome, not putting down horny insectoids. Plus, I have no interest in you people, you annoy me. Next time you have a disaster where you nurture a monster pod for years and get pissed when it hatches, don't call me.

Maybe I'll go pop into Pacific Rim, if there's a sequel. At least there they knew that the people came to see ME, not more boring versions of themselves with slightly constipated expressions.

Handle your own shit. I'm too awesome for this.

Picture: Screenrant.com