Godzilla is one of those movie creatures who will never truly die. First dreamed up in Japan in 1954 at the height of the Atomic Age, the nuclear-powered monster has unleashed destruction in more than 30 Japanese productions and three American productions, including the new Godzilla: King of the Monsters.
Taking place five years after the events in 2014’s Godzilla, the basic gist of the film is that a group named Monarch is tasked with studying and keeping at bay the group of 17 monsters that have been found around the globe. A rival group believes the monsters should be released, letting “nature” take its course however it may. I’ll give you one guess as to which group wins that battle.
As a result, monsters like the three-headed dragon King Ghidorah, giant moth Mothra, and pterodactyl-esque Rodan proceed to wreak havoc as only giant monsters can. It’s up to the movie’s plucky group of humans to bring an end to the havoc, and this time they’ll need the help of Godzilla in order to do so.
No one goes into a Godzilla movie expecting high art, but it’s still stunning how incoherent the movie truly is. The plot, such as it is, devolves into a rambling mess almost from minute one. That leaves the epic clashes between the monsters to carry the day, but even those are just a mish-mash of special effects where it’s next to impossible to tell what’s going on until the battle is over.
One of the only things keeping the film afloat is the general watchability of its laundry list of movie stars. The cast, which has five Oscar nominations among them, includes Kyle Chandler, Vera Farmiga, Millie Bobby Brown, Ken Watanabe, Ziyi Zhang, Bradley Whitford, Sally Hawkins, Charles Dance, Thomas Middleditch, Aisha Hinds, O’Shea Jackson, Jr., Anthony Ramos, and David Straithairn. All of them deserve better than the material they’re performing, but each of them also elevates it in one way or another.
Points do go to the filmmakers, led by writer/director Michael Dougherty and co-writer Zach Shields, for keeping the visible human death toll to a minimum. Action films too often wantonly destroy cities with seemingly no regard for the thousands of deaths that destruction would cause. In this film, two of the biggest scenes take place in Antarctica and in the middle of the ocean, taking humans mostly out of the equation.
Fun could also be had in watching the film by playing a “spot the reference” game. Only four monsters are truly showcased, but Godzilla superfans will no doubt relish either the appearances or allusions to other monsters from the franchise’s history. There are also a handful of references to Skull Island, which harkens back to 2017’s Kong: Skull Island and also hints at what’s to come in the already-forthcoming sequel, 2020’s Godzilla vs. Kong.
It’s difficult to know what could make Godzilla: King of the Monsters a truly enjoyable film, but a start would be to focus on what everyone wants to see — the monsters — and leave the tricky plot mechanics for pretty much any other movie.
Only in Austin does recording in a tin can create excellent sound. Specifically, this "tin can" is a 1955 Spartan Imperial Mansion trailer, a spacious mobile home converted into a relatively cramped studio. But the unconventional setup is no match for producer and engineer James Westley Essary.
Essary and his videographer brother, Brantley, have been using the space to build up their inner circle of musicians, capturing intimate performances in professional recordings available on YouTube. Live From The Tin Can premiered its second season on April 15, 2024, and is looking forward to a long string of diverse performances to come. Right now listeners can enjoy Ron Gallo, David Ramirez, Vondré, John Calvin Abney, Angel White, and more on the YouTube channel.
First up this season was Worn-Tin (an amazing coincidence of a name), performing "Hard Ease," "Bitter," and "Kid Changed," a pleasantly lackadaisical series of alt-rock romps, somehow squeezing in two drum sets. Worn-Tin, like many other artists this season on the YouTube series, performed live at South by Southwest in March. The festival, along with the concurrent Luck Reunion, brought a wealth of artists to the Live Music Capital, so the Tin Can crew took advantage of the easy scheduling.
"South By's website is actually a great way to find out who was coming into town," says Brantley. "So we started thinking about things like, what is what is their sound like? What is their performance like, and will that translate into our space? ... [We] just started contacting managers: 'Hey, do you have a free morning, free afternoon? Want to come by?' The sessions only take about a couple of hours."
Although the Essarys are hoping to get more national acts into the Tin Can to boost views, their hope is that over time they can narrow their focus back to local artists. (The series premiere featured Austin band Kelly Doyle.) Beyond the view counts, these recordings are mutually beneficial; Artists don't just get exposure, but lasting high-quality recordings for free, and the brothers get to build a portfolio. Westley, who just goes by his second name in conversation, appreciates the stylistic challenge.
Producer and engineer James Westley Essary does the auditory impossible.Photo courtesy of Live From The Tin Can
"I get to create a little calling card, [and] they get a way to push their new record when they're rolling through town and on tour," says Westley. "As you put out records you get pigeonholed ... I want to make a punk record, and I want to make a metal record. I want to make a country record. So it allows me to be able to dabble in whatever I want — whatever we book in the studio."
Making these connections was Westley's main goal in creating the series during the pandemic. It'd been a loose idea at the producer's prior studio, with occasional shoots for social media. As we all remember, 2019 was not famous for its sense of urgency. But when the studio was "sold out from under" Westley in October, he got tired of hopping from one rental to another.
He bought the trailer in December 2019 and spent the following year working on it. The end of his work coincided with Brantley's desire to move back to Austin from Seattle, so the returning brother provided the property to park the trailer on. The rest was good, old-fashioned pandemic restlessness.
The Tin Can in all its metallic glory.Photo courtesy of Live From The Tin Can
"When you're on the road all the time, you're meeting new bands every day, because you have a different opener or something," says Westley. "And I was like, 'How can I bring that to me?' It's a lot of fun when there's not really any money involved. You're not dedicating a ton of time, necessarily, to it. Bands come here, they have a really great time, [and] it's really nice to be able to host them."
Of course, recording in such a small space has its challenges. Most of the solution was in arranging; not the music, but the musicians. Placing everyone just right minimizes the bleed of certain instruments into other microphones, and as long as the singer stays relatively still, the drums — the biggest culprit — mostly keep their sound to themselves.
Some issues are also fixed with slightly quieter playing, unintentionally creating a sort of sonic brand for the series. It's not all bedroom pop, but the combination of a cozy recording environment and slightly restrained volume makes for some homey performances. This also works nicely for Westley — isn't that happening a lot? — who says he usually prefers listening at home to watching in a crowd.
Still, live recordings add a certain spice to the music. Many music fans will attribute it to the organic mystery of musicians clicking together, but Westley thinks there's something else at play. There's no substitute for practice, and by the time musicians are making live recordings, they've probably played the song live dozens or even hundreds of times. That allows for improvements on the original ideas — sometimes ones that originated in the studio at the time of the first recording.
Ron Gallo squeezes into the Tin Can.Still from Live From The Tin Can
It's also an easy way to make additional income without writing more, he says. Brantley points out that live music has always been at the core of the business.
"Live music has been at the top for forever," says Brantley. "Now we've got artists selling out huge arenas. They're competing with the NFL; They're not competing with movies or TV as much anymore. ... So I love the opportunity to not just record live music, but also film it. You're getting a full experience of both the really compelling live recording [and] even more compelling video to watch them in their element — really playing it live rather than just in a box in the studio."
The next frontier for the Tin Can crew will be hosting live shows onsite. Westley will be in the trailer recording while the band plays outside, and eventually Brantley might start capturing video, too. Also down the pipeline are audio-only live recordings, so listeners can enjoy the tunes without relying on YouTube.
One episode featuring NOBRO from Montreal, Quebec, is out now, with more to come. Next up is Evangeline from Los Angeles. Follow along with Live From The Tin Can ("Like and subscribe," says Brantley with a smile) on YouTube.