Godzilla vs The Colosseum
What does it really mean to a country when a giant monster destroys it's most famous tourist destination? Two cultural anthropologists weigh in. Yes, really.
Last week, after much badgering from my eight year old son, I took two of my kids to see Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, the latest film in Legendary Pictures’ MonsterVerse franchise which started with Godzilla in 2014.
Okay, when I say ‘much badgering’ I mean he asked once and I said “I’d love to take you to see that”. I’m a self-professed Monster Movie fan. Cloverfield is among my favourite movies ever made. I’ve seen the sequel to Pacific Rim multiple times. I owned the soundtrack to the 1998 Godzilla movie. Super 8, The Host, Underwater, the Jurassic Park movies … if it has a sizeable monster of some description destroying something or eating people, I’m in.
Yet, even I had to roll my eyes at one particular detail in Godzilla x Kong.
Warning: spoilers for Godzilla x Kong from here on out.
After an opening recap in which we find Kong living inside the Hollow Earth and Godzilla maintaining the delicate balance between the titans - the giant monster species to which the big lizard and big gorilla belong - and humanity, even defeating a giant spider-like creature named Scylla in Rome.
Now exhausted, Godzilla curled up for a nap … inside the Colosseum, the infamous near-2000 year old amphitheatre in the centre of the Italian capital. I chuckled, even as it struck me how silly this seemed. My ten year old daughter leaned over to me and said “it’s like his own little doggie bed”.
One of the final scenes in the movie finds Godzilla returning to sleep in the Colosseum after the final battle, implying that he found it so comfortable the first time, he just had to come back for a rest after once again saving the world.
Look, I know these movies are silly. I’m self-aware enough (just) to know that being a fan of monster movies is an odd little niche to claim. Godzilla x Kong is never going to win an Oscar. I know that. But I like them. They entertain me.
But this Colosseum thing stayed with me.
Effects heavy blockbusters have a long and proud tradition of destroying world-famous national landmarks, going all the way back to King Kong climbing the Empire State Building in 1933. The first time I was aware of it was in 1996’s Independence Day, wondering why the alien ships that destroyed each city also happened to centre themselves over the Empire State Building in New York, the House Of Representatives in Washington, and so on. Later we see them crashed next to the Sydney Opera House and the Pyramids Of Giza.
I’ve always found myself fascinated by what these events would be like if they actually happened in real life. What would it actually mean to the people of Italy for a giant monster to claim the Colosseum as a doggie bed? And why do filmmakers keep using locations like the Colosseum in their films?
So I decided to try and find out.
It turns out the answer is complicated.
“That would be a huge economic damage, for sure,” says Dr Francesco Bravin, the president of Cultural Association Antropolis in Milan. “But I'm quite convinced that it would attract even more tourists.”
“For sure, someone would make a profit out of it.”
Dr Bravin is a cultural anthropologist and a member of the board of the professional national association of anthropology (ANPIA) in Italy.
“The Colosseum is the largest Roman amphitheatre ever built, it is in a remarkable good shape after two millennia and it is probably the most famous monument and touristic site in Rome,” Dr Bravin explains. “It has a great historical, architectonical and economic value, but I don't think it has much to do with how ‘Italian society’ sees itself.
“Italy was unified in 1861, about 1700 years after the building of the Colosseum, so I'd say it's much more ‘Roman’ than ‘Italian’. Sure, some nationalist might see the Italians as the true descendants of the ancient Romans, but this is just one of the many possible narratives about identity, and not even the most common.”
This idea of ‘identity’ is key to understanding why a location like the Colosseum even features in a film like this. Blockbusters use these landmarks to represent an entire city or country as a kind of shortcut to audience understanding. The Empire State Building isn’t playing itself; it is standing in for the entire city of New York so viewers know where the action is happening.
Likewise, the Colosseum is a shortcut, an iconography-based cinematic shorthand, for viewers to understand that Godzilla is taking a nap in Italy.
“When people first start studying Italian … they often already know many Italian words that have become part of everyday language, like ciao, espresso, pizza, and gelato,” says Dr Barbara Martelli, a cultural anthropologist and scholar in Italian studies working in the University of Auckland's School of Cultures, Languages and Linguistics. “However, they are usually less familiar with what is considered famous in Italy, such as Dante Alighieri, the renowned poet regarded as one of the fathers of the Italian language, or iconic Italian creations like pesto sauce.”
“Well, they know about pesto, but they don't know it's from Genoa!”
Honestly, I didn’t know pesto was from Italy, let alone Genoa.
Dr Martelli explains that teaching Italian studies usually means starting by introducing aspects of the culture that have become cliche. You know, the first things you think about when you think of Italy: pizza, opera, the Mona Lisa.
“And the Colosseum!,” Dr Martelli says. “More than symbols, they represent globalised stereotypes of Italian culture as perceived outside Italy. I wouldn’t argue that the Colosseum constitutes a fundamental element of Italian identity, which is regionally diverse and relatively young. Instead, the remains of the Colosseum (Amphitheatrum Flavium), the world's largest Roman amphitheatre and icon of ancient Roman civilisation and the greatness of its Empire, certainly represent a fundamental element in the perception of Italy abroad.”
The truth is, as Dr Martelli pointed out in her correspondence, that Italy only became a unified country in 1861 - yes, its technically younger than New Zealand - but its artistic fame dates from much earlier.
The Colosseum is loaded with historical relevance but has little to do with Italian identity; it was an inheritance of sorts.
“The fact is that everyone recognises the Colosseum, [but] rarely identifies the Sforza Castle in Milan (Castello Sforzesco), the Royal Palace of Caserta (Reggia di Caserta), the temples of Agrigento (memories of the Greek domination of Sicily, in the 5th century BC), or the Sardinian Nuraghes (from the Nuragic civilization, between 1900 and 730 BC). Almost never in my decade-long experience with students from around the world has it happened,” Dr Martelli explains.
“So, if I were the producer of a blockbuster film, I would ask myself this question: what is truly global (now)? I would make Godzilla eat a gelato after he has destroyed the Colosseum, as it were.”
Maybe one day we’ll see Godzilla destroy the giant L&P bottle and grab a bite from the Skytower.
Five Songs Worth Checking Out!
Godzilla x Kong Edition!
> Eminem - “Godzilla (feat Juice WRLD)”
RIP Juice.
> Jibbs - “King Kong (feat Chamillionaire)”
You may recognise Jibbs’ name from his hit “Chain Hang Low”; fun fact - “King Kong” was his only other song to chart in the US, peaking at #54.
> The Flaming Lips - “Godzilla Flick”
I don’t listen to Wayne Coyne and co. as much as I should.
> Abba - “King Kong Song”
’Well, I was looking at a movie on the TV last night / Then I had a very funny notion, yeah / I really had to write a song about it’ - so meta!
> Sepultura - “Biotech Is Godzilla”
My buddy Dave and I used to crack up at the soundbite mid-song where some guy says ‘Godzillllla, rawr’. Not one of Sepultura’s best, honestly.
My sincerest thanks to Dr Barbara Martelli and Dr Francesco Bravin for their time in answering my questions about the Colosseum and Italian culture.
And thanks to you, dear reader. See you later in the week!
C
To ask them … what would happen if Godzilla used the Coliseum as a bed?
You … called someone in Milan?!