(Vox.com)
Anyone who knows me will already know that I am
partial to the science fiction and fantasy genres. Part of it comes from the
escape into extraordinary fictional worlds that these films provide. The other
part is their unparalleled potential for social commentary.
Your typical moviegoer is not interested in exploring
the dark, disturbing corners of society. They don’t want to be lectured to,
they want to forget their problems for two hours, and escapist genres seem like
an enticing way to do so. But these viewers tend to lower their guard when
they believe they are watching a story completely separated from their own reality,
allowing filmmakers to “trick” their audience into confronting ugly truths and
accepting new ideas.
Enter Guillermo del Toro’s The Shape of Water, a brilliant film that does just that. Del Toro
has always dealt with political themes through the fantasy genre. Most notably,
his two previous masterpieces, The Devil’s
Backbone and Pan’s Labyrinth,
explored anti-establishment, anti-fascist, and other progressive topics using
ghosts, fauns, and fairies as vehicles to get to there. Escapism? Not exactly.
Set in Baltimore in 1962, The Shape of Water is an adult fairy tale centered on Elisa (an
exquisite Sally Hawkins), a mute cleaning woman at a top-secret government research
center. Her life—usually one of monotonous routine—is suddenly disrupted when a
highly sensitive asset arrives, accompanied by all-American “hero” Colonel
Strickland (played with ferocious intensity and great menace by Michael Shannon).
Elisa quickly stumbles upon the asset in private, a beautiful, mysterious, and
fantastical aquatic creature, credited as “Amphibian Man” and played by del
Toro-regular Doug Jones beneath a stunning prosthetic costume.
This is where the film gets weird, or at least it does on paper. Elisa
is immediately drawn to the creature and a wordless friendship develops—one
that quickly blossoms into a full-blown romance. But don’t let the premise of an
interspecies love story fool you, The
Shape of Water is anything but ridiculous. Del Toro has crafted a
magnificent, beautiful melody on the things that make us different.
What a treat this is. The Shape of Water is the kind of movie that makes you believe in
magic again.
Although it’s most easily classified as fantasy, the
true nature of the film is impossible to capture with a single label. What’s so
impressive is how The Shape of Water is
so many different things so effortlessly: a romance, a fairy tale, a Cold War
thriller, a creature feature, a comedy, a musical, a body horror film, and
everything in-between. It’s a rare genre film that completely transcends genre,
not just in expectation, but also in identity.
(Vox.com)
The
craftsmanship across the board is superb. Editor Sidney Wolinski deftly
condenses the many characters and subplots into one efficient package, while
Alexandre Desplat’s melodious score is light on its feet, capturing the heart
of the film remarkably well.
Visually, cinematographer Dan Lausten helps create
some incredibly memorable imagery, including the final shot which is sure to go
down in film history as one of the most instantly iconic film images this
century. Special mention should also be made of the film’s overall aesthetic. The
lavishly designed and decorated sets are bathed in every shade of green
imaginable, making it easy for viewers to lose themselves in the world of the film.
At the end of the day, these things are just trappings,
but they do help elevate del Toro’s film to staggering heights. The filmmaker
has stated that The Shape of Water is
one of his most personal films, and it is very clear that he has poured his
heart and soul into every last detail. It’s overflowing with imagination, but
it remains focused and driven.
Above all else, The
Shape of Water wants to shatter our judgments towards the people who we
perceive as different than ourselves. Perhaps best summarized using the
director’s own words, “We’re living in a time where we demonize the Other. We
are told we’ve got to fear…, why we have to divide the world between ‘us’ and ‘them,’
whether race, religion, government, sexual preference, gender—anything that
creates this fake division between us and them, and there’s only us. There is
only us.”
The film doesn’t shy away from this message. Just look
at the scrappy band of so-called “misfits” that make up its ensemble. There’s the leading duo, the mute Elisa and the exotic Amphibian Man. Then there’s Elisa’s close friends
Giles (Richard Jenkins), an aging gay artist unable to find work because of his
sexual orientation, and Zelda (Octavia Spencer), a black woman and fellow member
of “the help” at the government facility. Even Michael Stuhlbarg’s Doctor Hoffstetler,
the head scientist researching the asset, is the victim of a clash of ideologies
with the authoritarian Strickland and other, more secretive superiors.
I see The Shape
of Water as a cynic’s worst nightmare. The film is entirely unapologetic in
its belief in love over all. If you can’t get on board with the central love
story, then you may as well stay home; The
Shape of Water doesn’t want you in the audience. This is a movie for the
outcasts, the dreamers, the driven, and for that quiet voice inside us all that
still believes a little bit in a world where happiness can emerge despite the
relentless bombardment of cruelty and evil that we face every day. Del Toro
knows that this happiness comes from each other, and that you won’t find it if
you can’t look at the Elisas, the Gileses, and the Amphibian Mans of the world
with anything other than disgust because they’re not the same as you,
That leaves The
Shape of Water as film for our time, but also for any time. This
celebration of otherness is a testament to the power of fantasy to explore the
problems of our world in a way not possible through other means. Del Toro’s masterpiece
fulfills the responsibilities of the genre splendidly; it’s a film to lose yourself
in, but also one to find yourself in. And hopefully, the person leaving the
theater will be a little better than the one who walked in.
It’s one of the very best films of the year.
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