The Shape of Water (2017)

When The Shape of Water started rolling the opening credits, I thought to myself, what could I have gotten myself into? Something about this particular project seemed beautiful, but completely off-putting, even in 2017. There is no secret as to what this film is. A semi-erotic romance picture about a woman and an amphibian humanoid. You might say it's Guillermo del Toro's Beauty and the Beast, as put through the lens of a 1950's Universal Monster Movie, or perhaps there's something more? I take it that del Toro, despite being a well-versed horror movie historian, wasn't just taking a trip down memory lane. I still can't put my finger on what, but The Shape of Water is a provoking piece of art. With all the gorgeous sets, special effects and ensemble cast, I saw the film with an audience of people that weren't necessarily pleased with what they saw. The Shape of Water is no crowd pleaser and I believe del Toro wanted it that way.

The film takes place in the early 1960's. Hawkins is a mysterious figure. Elisa Esposito. A mute woman who works as a janitor at a government lab. Surrounding her is a world of stereotypes. Her partner at home is Giles, a starving artist and closeted homosexual with a tendency to hoard Key Lime pie, played impeccably by the great Richard Jenkins. Octavia Spencer plays Zelda Fuller, Elisa's loyal friend from work. Then we are introduced to Colonel Richard Strickland, the film's clear antagonist. He is our Gaston. The straight, broad shouldered, bigoted white man who discovered the poor amphibian creature, and rather than being fascinated by it, he simply wants to crush it for being different. While he's a villain that's easy to hate, there isn't much nuance to his character in comparison to Jenkins and Spencer. He's a brutish thug and that's about it. Although, I got a kick out of his candy addiction and his willingness to dislocate his blackened, gangrene-infected fingers out of anger. del Toro is a brilliant absurdist.

Any time Hawkins and the creature shared screen time, either together or by themselves, I fell in love. Hawkins is a revelation. She says not a word, but projects an emotional performance louder than any acting job you saw at the movies in 2017. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. She mesmerized me and filled my heart with joy. The creature is an odd updated version of The Creature from the Black Lagoon with fantastical healing powers and a rather nauseating way of copulating. Her romance with the creature comes from a place of loneliness. Two souls, misunderstood and rejected by the world. They were meant for each other. A love so powerful that Hawkins even strikes up the courage to sing "You'll Never Know" to it in an unexpected musical number. On the surface, you might say the lesson of the story is "love isn't skin deep". True as that may be, you will never get over how odd it is to see Hawkins fall for that terrifying frog monster. But that's the point. Guillermo del Toro doesn't want you to feel aroused. He doesn't even want you to shed a tear for the protagonists. The Shape of Water is entirely a visual experience and a trip through the imagination of a world unlike ours, but placed somewhere in the not so distant past. It isn't reality or fantasy, it's that unrecognizable grey area in between. It's only up to you to figure out what it all really means.