Do you remember the first time you saw the original Godzilla? Do you remember thinking to yourself, "Well, this is okay, but it'd be way cooler if the monster was in fact a French woman looking for a good place to have her babies?" Well, I didn't either, but director Roland Emmerich and writer Dean Devlin did, and the result was the 1998 American "adaptation" of Godzilla.
Just to sweeten the pot, they gave us a "hero" who expounds endlessly about his research on worms, a "heroine" in training to be a sociopath, and enough instances of sexual harrassment to fill a weekend sensitivity workshop. Because, deep down, I really must hate myself, I've watched this film endlessly to give you what is (hopefully) a humorous commentary.
Now, there are a lot of different Godzilla films, and I want to be crystal clear about which one I'm riffing on: this is the one with the wooden acting, drunkenly meandering plot, and cheesy special effects. I hope that clears things up!