I (unfortunately) found myself watching the Matthew Broderick version of "Godzilla" tonight, while doing my computer stuff and swicthing channels, and I have to admit, I have never rooted as ernestly and wholeheartedly for the creature as I did in this one.
Seriously, there is not one iota of a reason to cheer for the humans in this movie, (or feel even remotely sorry for them), as they systematically torture, maim, and slowly kill the beast and it's babies and send them into endangered species oblivion.
If there is a sequel to this slaughter-thon, (which they clearly left room for with the one remaining baby creature), I pray they give the last little beast it's due retribution, and turn Broderick, TV Reporter, mysterious Frenchman, and Army General, et al, into so much dinosaur doo-doo.
The rediculously triumphant-sounding celebration music at the end is so contrary to the emotions you feel at that point, that it's just plain laughable, (or nausea-inducing), and the only saving grace is that closing image of the one surviving hatchling, and the hope of some gory, gut-tearing, human-munching, prehistoric monster payback.
I pray that somewhere there's a denaro-drenched producer who sees the same profit-filled possibilities I do in a Godzilla-gets-even follow-up to this sham, and a glorious end to Broderick's glib, condescending, sickly-sweet, boyish pseudo-scientist characterization.
Long live Godzilla! (Jaws 3, anyone?)