It’s funny, isn’t it? How a creature as monumental as Godzilla can be interpreted in so many wildly different ways. Looking back at the 1998 Roland Emmerich film and comparing it to Gareth Edwards' 2014 reboot, you see not just a shift in cinematic style, but a fundamental re-envisioning of the King of the Monsters himself.
Many fans, and I’ve seen this pop up in discussions, tend to bash the '98 version for its radical departure from the classic Godzilla silhouette. Gone was the lumbering, upright behemoth, replaced by a sleek, almost theropod-like creature. Yet, if you squint a little, or perhaps just look past the immediate visual shock, there are threads connecting them. Both share those iconic dorsal spines, the long, grasping arms, and a tough, almost reptilian hide. Even the roars, in their own way, echo each other. The biggest morphological difference, as I see it, is the stance: the '98 Godzilla adopting a more forward-leaning, theropod pose, while the 2014 iteration stands tall, emphasizing its sheer, awe-inspiring size.
Interestingly, the plots themselves share a surprising amount of common ground. Both films center on humanity's struggle to understand and combat this colossal force of nature. The protagonists, often alongside the military, are scrambling to figure out what this creature is, what it wants, and how to stop it. The opening of the 2014 film, with its focus on the initial discovery and the military's response, felt remarkably reminiscent of the '98 approach.
One point where the '98 film arguably had an edge was screen time. We saw a lot more of Godzilla in that movie, darting through the city. The 2014 version, while visually stunning, felt like it held back, giving us Big G for perhaps only about six minutes of actual on-screen presence. Both films, however, hilariously demonstrated that standard artillery is about as effective against Godzilla as a mosquito bite – it just makes him angry.
The sheer scale of destruction in both films is undeniable. Though, I recall the '98 Godzilla being a bit more… enthusiastic about knocking down buildings as he fled the military. The 2014 Godzilla, in contrast, seemed to tiptoe around the urban landscape a bit more, perhaps a nod to its more measured portrayal.
Now, the '98 film introduced something the 2014 version didn't: babies. The concept of Godzilla laying a clutch of eggs, leading to a swarm of smaller Godzillas, was certainly a departure. Some critics immediately cried 'Jurassic Park rip-off,' but I tend to see it differently. In the 90s, homages were common. Emmerich was likely giving a knowing wink to Spielberg, saying, 'You did great with dinosaurs, let me see what I can do with this.' And honestly, as a fan of Jurassic Park, I found that aspect rather enjoyable.
What the 2014 film did have, unequivocally, was a Godzilla that survived. The '98 Godzilla met its end on the Brooklyn Bridge, a rather somber moment for many. But then, the end credits rolled, and we saw that one egg had survived, a baby Godzilla emerging to take a defiant bite out of the camera. It’s hard not to see that as a direct echo of Godzilla vs. Destoroyah, where the elder Godzilla perishes, but his offspring lives on to carry the torch. It’s a cyclical narrative, a passing of the mantle, and a powerful way to conclude.
Ultimately, for me, the '98 Godzilla, despite its design controversies and some questionable acting (though let's be honest, 2014 wasn't exactly immune to that either), felt worthy of the name. It delivered action, suspense, and that undeniable kaiju thrill. The 2014 film, while a more visually polished and arguably more 'serious' take, also captured that essence. They represent different chapters in Godzilla's long, storied history, each with its own strengths and weaknesses, but both contributing to the enduring legend of the King of the Monsters.