Godzilla Minus One is the 37th movie in the kaiju franchise, which is considered one of the longest film series of all time by sexists intent on overlooking Barbie, the 43rd instalment in the Mattel toy’s oeuvre.

Of course Godzilla Minus One is more Oppenheimer than Barbie, centred as it is on the bombing of Japan during World War II. But Takashi Yamazaki’s feature focuses on the victims of the bombings, making for a more modest monster movie than most. It seems strange to call a Godzilla picture small-scale, but to quote Oppenheimer’s esteemed colleague, it’s all relative.

The film follows a kamikaze pilot (Ryunosuke Kamiki) who abandons his post in 1945 and fails to stop a rampaging Godzilla. Two years after the end of the war, Godzilla returns to Japanese shores, having been mutated by nearby American nuclear testing.

There is a nice parallel here with Hollywood’s recent takes on the iconic character, mutating it from powerful Japanese allegory to generic monster nonsense. The budget is one-tenth that of Godzilla Vs. Kong but yields a superior beast, going back to basics in terms of storytelling and filmmaking. There is no extraneous mythology or technobabble, no Godzilla fighting other monsters; just a straightforward story about people working together. They should have called it Godzilla Minus Bullshit.

Yamazaki does take inspiration from Western films, particularly Jaws, lifting its sea-based action scenes and the creature being an allegory for the hero’s PTSD and survivor’s guilt. There are even splashes of First Blood when he utters the line, “My war isn’t over yet.” At the same time it harks back to the original Godzilla (hence also being released in a black-and-white version), even having the monster walk a bit like someone in a costume as an affectionate in-joke.

Again having a smaller Godzilla allows so much more emphasis on humanity, the colourful characters pulling together in boats and planes to take down a formidable yet tangible threat. Godzilla Minus One feels like a classic monster movie with a sense of adventure instead of crushing inevitability.