Sometimes your feelings about a two-hour movie can be summed up by the way you react to a single fleeting scene. In the latest incarnation of Godzilla, that moment arrived for me in the film’s final act, when the titular monster and his two radiation-devouring rivals are having their way with the innocent skyscrapers of San Francisco. In one shot, we see the city-destroying creatures through the windows of an office building’s 80th-or-so story, from whose cubicles and conference rooms a cluster of hapless Bay Area white-collar types watch, screaming, as their doom comes sweeping in.
And all I could think was: What are those people doing on the 80th floor of a skyscraper? Don’t they know what’s going on outside?