When a pair of giant cockroaches invade your city (and when I said giant, I mean taller than the tallest buildings), dig a hole that’s  as wide as five city blocks and lay their eggs in it, who you gonna call? Godzilla, right?

There was a scene, just before the final battle between the mighty kaiju began, where the admiral, weighing all the options he had before him to defend of San Francisco, most of them really, really bad options, turned to the wise old Japanese scientist who’d been tagging along and asked for his assessment of the situation.

“Godzilla is here to restore balance,” the scientist said. “Let them fight.”

Tim and I looked at each other and said, “YES!”

Naval destroyers swamped! Skyscrapers smashed to dust! Fighter planes swatted from the sky! The Golden Gate Bridge, school buses laden with children waiting bumper-to-bumper all along its main deck, torn asunder!

The King Of The Monsters, defeated?

NO! He rises from beneath the dust! He attacks! What! Will! Happen! NEXT!

Sorry. No spoilers.