Let’s talk about Guillemiro Del Toro—a director with a very
distinct visual style, often involving clockwork, or metal and grimy brick
sodden with water. Although his scripts aren’t usually the best in the world,
it’s that sense of visual detail combining machinery with moisture and organic weirdness
that makes a lot of his films great to look at. From Hellboy to Pan’s Labyrinth
to even Pacific Rim, you’re not likely to forget any of those visuals anytime
soon. And that brings us to The Shape of Water, a fantastical romance film that
could’ve also been called Creature from the Hunky Lagoon, which combines all
the things Guillemiro happens to like into a package that also offers more wateriness
than a typical Monday in London.
One thing you
often see with him is unusual or outcast protagonists—and here is one of a sort
you don’t really see in mainstream flicks. Sally Hawkins plays Elisa Esposito,
a mute that works as a cleaner for a US government laboratory in 1962
Baltimore. Compared to directors who’d probably see a lack of dialogue from
their lead as a limitation, Del Toro makes up for it by giving us a look into
Elisa’s life through visual montages and sign language, definitely ensuring the
viewer pays attention and gets into the story. It’s a nice little touch that
definitely helped draw me in.
It becomes apparent that indeed, most of the main characters
are outside the social norm of the period—Elisa works alongside Zelda, played
by Octavia Spencer, an African-American woman, and her best friend and
neighbour is Richard Jenkins as Giles, a starving artist who we learn happens
to be gay. At first the film seems to be taking on a slightly nostalgic view
into the early 60s, but that is soon dispelled when we get to see, subtly and
overtly, the attitudes all three have to put up with. It’s that sort of
authenticity that helps you emphasize with the main cast, especially if you
yourself have sometimes felt distanced from the ‘norm’ at any time.
Inside the facility, we’re also introduced to a fish-man
captured by US agencies and experimented on—played with great-looking practical
effects by Doug Jones, who isn’t a stranger to being lathered in rubber, as you’ll
know from Star Trek Discovery. If there’s another thing Del Toro is good at, it’s
weird and great-looking creature effects, from all the beasts in Hellboy to the
huge kaiju in Pacific Rim. And it’s with that in mind that we see Elisa get drawn
closer to the gilled prisoner, leading to a rescue mission halfway through the film.
To my pleasant surprise it’s not all human-piscine romances—the
Cold war forms a big part of the backdrop, as we’re introduced to both Soviet
spy Dmitri, and the main antagonist, the chauvinistic and disturbed American
agent, Michael Shannon’s Strickland. The different attitudes and outlooks of
these G-Men also help to keep things interesting—there’s enough characters and
arcs that even if one doesn’t grab you, there’ll be another that will.
The film does lag a bit in the second half, as Del Toro goes
into some weird sequences, one of which came out of nowhere and kind of took me
out of it—and another that does stretch suspension of disbelief when it comes
to plumbing, let’s just say. Not everyone will buy the dialogue-free romance, which
I had some mixed feelings on, but at the very least, it sure isn’t Twilight. I’ll
also say that the ending is probably going to raise some eyebrows, although
thinking back on it is foreshadowed somewhat, and I guess it’s down to
interpretation.
Overall, Shape of Water is definitely a film I found
interesting—it’s got all of Del Toro’s strengths and oddities, and though it
isn’t perfect, like most things he’s done, it’s certainly something that’ll
stick with you. It balances the somewhat old-timey feel with a blunt look at
the past, and if you let yourself get into it, there’s a fair bit to enjoy. Forget
whatever nonsensical CG-overrun wannabe monster romances Universal is trying to
kick off and give this one a try.
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