Author’s Note: For clarification, throughout this article I will refer specifically to the 1954 film as ‘Gojira’, and to the character as Godzilla.

Ask anyone who knows me, and they’ll tell you that I’m bonkers for Godzilla. I will frequently — unprompted, mind you — bellow out Godzilla’s theme music. A portion of my living room wall is graced with a reproduction print of the French movie poster for the original film. I own the soundtracks to multiple Godzilla films on vinyl, and I have every Godzilla film from 1954-1975 on blu-ray. I even recently attended a Halloween party dressed as Godzilla. It should go without saying that the film that started it all is one of my all-time favorite movies: 1954’s ‘Gojira’.

I was recently lucky enough to see ‘Gojira’ in theaters for the first time, thanks to a creature-feature series hosted by Omaha’s local art-house cinema, Film Streams. For those not in the know, Film Streams is a local nonprofit whose flagship theater has been around since 2007. Per their website, they focus on “the presentation and discussion of film as an art form”. The movies they show tend to fall into one of five categories: New Releases, Classics, Community Collaborations, Education, and Special Programs.

Having been a fan of Godzilla for as long as I can remember, the only other Godzilla movie I’ve ever seen in theaters was the 1998 American film starring Matthew Broderick, but we won’t discuss that travesty here. There’s something honestly magical about seeing a movie in a theater, especially older, black and white films. It’s akin to seeing a favorite musical artist live. Sure, you might have a killer sound system at home, but there’s something wonderful — spiritual, even — about standing in a dimly lit crowd of strangers and letting a wall of sound crash into and wash over you.

I took my seat more or less dead center in the theater, as this is what I would consider to be the best spot — the sweet spot — for me to take in the screen. I wanted to soak up the movie and bathe in it. And from my “sweet spot”, I knew I would do just that. Soon, the trailers began. Thankfully, they didn’t outlast their welcome like they would at other chain theaters, and as they finished playing, a set of curtains closed in partially on the screen changing the aspect ratio from our modern widescreen format to a more vintage square. The remaining lights in the theater dimmed, and all was still. With a jolt, the titles flashed across the screen, accompanied by the deafening roar of Godzilla, and for the next hour and thirty-six minutes I was fully engrossed, consumed by the long-gone, black and white world of 1950’s Japan.

As stated earlier, Film Streams’ mission centers around the concept of “cinema as art”, and in that regard, ‘Gojira’ is a masterpiece. The cinematography is top-notch, the musical score, iconic. The actors’ performances are serious and even-toned, as if they were appearing in a drama, instead of a film about a giant monster. Even the special effects have aged quite well. As I was leaving, I overheard a fellow audience member laughing at the “quaintness” of a man in a rubber suit smashing his way through a miniaturized model city, but the craftsmanship of the model work is superb, and when paired with some clever camera use and moody lighting, Godzilla’s rampage through downtown Tokyo is quite effective. I know that Godzilla is just a man in a rubber suit, but the film is shot so superbly that I believe every moment of what I am seeing on screen. I’ll take “quaint” practical effects any day over uncanny computer generated effects.

‘Gojira’ is a brilliant and important work of art, but we mustn’t forget the context in which the film was made. ‘Gojira’ was released just 9 years after the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and only 7 months after the “Lucky Dragon No. 5” incident, in which radioactive fallout from American nuclear testing poisoned the crew of a Japanese fishing boat. ‘Gojira’ is a dark and somber film, full of angst, grief, and terror. Godzilla’s appearance is truly ghastly, with crooked teeth jutting out of his mouth. Godzilla’s attack on Tokyo is both visually compelling and emotionally harrowing. I’ve watched this movie countless times, but the moment in which a terrified mother comforts her two children as they cower in a doorstep, stating “soon they’ll be where their father is” as Godzilla engulfs them in radioactive flames, has always stood out to me as one of the most horrifying and heart-breaking scenes I’ve ever watched.

Do you have thoughts, opinions, or feelings about the concept of cinema as art? Email them to david@omahadailyrecord.com. No guarantees he’ll respond.