Why I’m not going to see the new Godzilla movie

The new Godzilla movie is fine or whatever. I guess a bunch of people are going to see it or have already seen it, but I am not one of those people.

See, a lot of kids these days forget that TriStar Pictures released a Godzilla movie in 1998. A lot of people in general also seem to forget that TriStar Pictures is a thing that exists. In fact, I didn’t know that fact until I looked it up on Wikipedia, but that’s beside the point.

The 1998 Godzilla movie had something that this Godzilla movie does NOT have, and I think we all know exactly what I’m talking about:

Yeah, that’s right: PUFF DADDY.

Puff Daddy composed a song for the 1998 film that was so good, even Jimmy Page later covered it with Led Zeppelin. That’s some kind of influential! And the music video. THAT MUSIC VIDEO.

Let me explain something to you: when Puff Daddy–and not P. Diddy, I’d like to point out–wears a leather jacket and sunglasses AT NIGHT and raps while CGI explosions are rocking his face, you have basically reached the pinnacle of cinema; nay, the pinnacle of all entertainment.

The lyrics also offer a poetic insight into the culture and struggles of a pre-9/11 world. I know you probably just watched the music video at least half a dozen times, but now prepare for your mind to be even further blown by the raw, uncut, even more emotional version:

And think about the symbolism of the amazing lyrics:

Uh-huh, Yeah,
Uh-huh, Yeah, uuh
Uh-huh, Yeah, uuh
Uh-huh, Yeah, uuh
Uh-huh, Yeah, uuh
Uh-huh, Yeah, Yeah

From the very outset of the song, you know you’re in for a journey of legendary proportions. Does the new Godzilla movie do anything like that? I doubt it. And it only gets deeper from there:

You said to trust you
You’d never hurt me
Now I’m disgusted
Since then adjusted
Certainly you fooled me
Ridiculed me
Left me hanging
Now shit’s boomeranging
Right back at you

Think about it: we’ve all been there. These lyrics are relevant to all of us, telling the story of someone whose trust was betrayed, but whose aggressor earned the comeuppance (s)he deserved. Karma is an ancient concept, and yet it is presented so clearly and artistically here, it’s unbelievable. BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE:

Fuck my enemies
Fuck my foes
Damn these hoes

As anger reaches a boiling point, Puff Daddy himself can’t help but lash out. This may as well be written by Eminem or another lyrical artist. I am literally speechless at this point. The raw emotion is arresting; the tension, palpable.

Then, Puff Daddy says a bunch of other words, and it’s really great. But look, I’m not here to write an in-depth analysis of the song; I think that, like all good songs, the analysis writes itself. In the words of the poet Robert Frost: “And would suffice.”

Now, some critics may suggest that the new Godzilla movie is better than the 1998 masterpiece because Walter White is in it. And while he is usually the one who knocks, I must say that Puff Daddy likely has even more experience dealing drugs than Walter does. I mean, is Jesse even in the new Godzilla movie? No. That’s like making a Batman movie without Robin: it doesn’t make a lick of sense. Who would watch something like that? Literally nobody.

According to Metacritic, the new Godzilla movie has a 62, and the 1998 Godzilla has a 32. Some may point to these figures as evidence that the new Godzilla movie is better than the old one, but you know what? People are dumb. And they should shut up. And I think that’s a pretty hard case to argue against.

If you’re still not convinced, then I present to you the best scene in movie history:

DAT ACTING.

In conclusion, the 1998 Godzilla movie is an overlooked masterpiece, not this flaming pile of garbage that touts such meaningless accomplishments as being “critically acclaimed” and “not terrible.” Go watch the 16-year-old masterpiece in its entirety, and you, too, may see the light.

By the way: here is a better-written article about why Puff Daddy’s cinematic masterpiece is superior to the 2014 film. You’re welcome.