Director: Guillermo del Toro
Arguably the best of the brilliant film fantasist Guillermo del Toro's several excellent movies.
Mexican director del Toro is an unapologetic fan of fantasy and horror films, and his movies have always worn this passion on their sleeves. From his debut film Cronos, through the much-heralded Pan's Labrynth, and even his lighter fare like Hellboy and Pacific Rim, he has always shown to be a master of blending visual spectacle with genuine heart. The Shape of Water is a culmination of nearly all of his greatest strengths.
The movie takes place in 1962, set to the backdrop of a United States in which hope still abounds for many to achieve the "American Dream" of upward mobility and consumer comforts. The Cold War is in full swing, but the U.S. is working exceptionally hard to craft and sell a utopian image to itself. Unfortunately for some, this image does not include equality for anyone outside of the WASP template. Within this atmosphere, we meet Elisa Esposito (Sally Hawkins), a mute janitor who works at a secret government installation in Baltimore. One day, a rather severe government agent, Colonel Richard Strickland (Michael Shannon), arrives with a bizarre, humanoid, amphibious creature in captivity. In the course of her cleaning duties, Elisa grows fascinated with the creature, and she eventually forms an unspoken bond of trust with it, a trust which evolves further into physical and emotional attraction. All of this comes under intense pressure when Col. Strickland, a brutal authoritarian type who only sees the creature as a monster to be exploited for any scientific advantages it's body can convey to his country, makes moves to kill and dissect the creature. This springs Elisa into action, and along with several other marginalized friends, she contrives an escape plan for the inhuman obejct of her affections.
The movie is a wonderfully brilliant and uniquely heartfelt take on the classic monster movies of the 1940s and 1950s, most notably the classic The Creature from the Black Lagoon. What del Toro lovingly does, though, is go far beyond merely updating the same old story. Instead, he uses the basic element of the creature to tell a story of marginalized peoples during a time in U.S. history when homogeneity was a major part of a utopian ideal. Yes, an amphibious being from the jungles of South America is a highly fantastical proxy for people overlooked and cast aside due to their race, disabilities, or sexual orientation, but it serves as a perfect conduit for del Toro's cinematic brilliance, especially in terms of visuals. Just as he's done in his earlier movies, del Toro makes full use of the wide and beautiful color palattes at his disposal, crafting a movie that is marvelous to look upon. And many of the more imaginative sequences have the dreamlike quality that only movies can accomplish.
Beyond the stunning visuals, there is a beautifully poetic and romantic dark fairy tale at work in this movie. Some will certainly find it odd, if not grotesque, in certain ways. If one does see it as a fairy tale, though, it becomes much easier to accept the bizarre elements of the story, including the sexual ones. It is not often that I pull for a happy ending to movies, since they are nearly always done for reasons of pure sentimental crowd-pleasing. In this movie, though, I truly was hoping that the characters would find the happiness and freedom which they sought. For a somewhat cynical movie-goer like me, who tends to prefer downer endings in general, this is saying something.
If you know anything about the cast, then it should be no surprise that the acting is outstanding. Sally Hawkins pulls off the amazing feat of illustrating a range of emotions for a character bereft of speech. Using her highly expressive face and wonderful body language, Elisa's love, pain, and longing are as clear as if she were giving articulate, empassioned speeches for the film's length. The nemesis in the film is played to perfection by the ever-intense Michael Shannon. I really would like to see Shannon cast in different roles more often, but there is a reason that he is called upon to play characters such as the imposing Col. Strickland - he's frighteningly good at it. There are also award-winners at nearly every turn, with Richard Jenkins and Octavia Spencer delivering just the kind of high-quality performances that you would expect.
This is all not to say that I found everything in the movie great. While some of the humor is quite good, a few gags don't quite hit. More than this, though, is that I found the story a bit heavy-handed and obvious in how it presented certain characters as being social misfits. Elisa's gay neighbor and her African-American coworker face the discrimination that was certainly typical of the day, but del Toro doesn't really present their plights in subtle or creative ways. For a movie that is bursting with vibrancy in so many ways, it would have been nice to see a little more novelty or at least deftness in the depictions of those discriminated against.
This was the fifth of the nine Oscar Best Picture nominees that I've now seen. While I still have several more to take in, this one is definitely very high in the running for the award. Though not flawless, it demonstrates the dazzling artistry and particular magic that can be accomplished in no other media than film.
Arguably the best of the brilliant film fantasist Guillermo del Toro's several excellent movies.
Mexican director del Toro is an unapologetic fan of fantasy and horror films, and his movies have always worn this passion on their sleeves. From his debut film Cronos, through the much-heralded Pan's Labrynth, and even his lighter fare like Hellboy and Pacific Rim, he has always shown to be a master of blending visual spectacle with genuine heart. The Shape of Water is a culmination of nearly all of his greatest strengths.
The movie takes place in 1962, set to the backdrop of a United States in which hope still abounds for many to achieve the "American Dream" of upward mobility and consumer comforts. The Cold War is in full swing, but the U.S. is working exceptionally hard to craft and sell a utopian image to itself. Unfortunately for some, this image does not include equality for anyone outside of the WASP template. Within this atmosphere, we meet Elisa Esposito (Sally Hawkins), a mute janitor who works at a secret government installation in Baltimore. One day, a rather severe government agent, Colonel Richard Strickland (Michael Shannon), arrives with a bizarre, humanoid, amphibious creature in captivity. In the course of her cleaning duties, Elisa grows fascinated with the creature, and she eventually forms an unspoken bond of trust with it, a trust which evolves further into physical and emotional attraction. All of this comes under intense pressure when Col. Strickland, a brutal authoritarian type who only sees the creature as a monster to be exploited for any scientific advantages it's body can convey to his country, makes moves to kill and dissect the creature. This springs Elisa into action, and along with several other marginalized friends, she contrives an escape plan for the inhuman obejct of her affections.
The movie is a wonderfully brilliant and uniquely heartfelt take on the classic monster movies of the 1940s and 1950s, most notably the classic The Creature from the Black Lagoon. What del Toro lovingly does, though, is go far beyond merely updating the same old story. Instead, he uses the basic element of the creature to tell a story of marginalized peoples during a time in U.S. history when homogeneity was a major part of a utopian ideal. Yes, an amphibious being from the jungles of South America is a highly fantastical proxy for people overlooked and cast aside due to their race, disabilities, or sexual orientation, but it serves as a perfect conduit for del Toro's cinematic brilliance, especially in terms of visuals. Just as he's done in his earlier movies, del Toro makes full use of the wide and beautiful color palattes at his disposal, crafting a movie that is marvelous to look upon. And many of the more imaginative sequences have the dreamlike quality that only movies can accomplish.
Beyond the stunning visuals, there is a beautifully poetic and romantic dark fairy tale at work in this movie. Some will certainly find it odd, if not grotesque, in certain ways. If one does see it as a fairy tale, though, it becomes much easier to accept the bizarre elements of the story, including the sexual ones. It is not often that I pull for a happy ending to movies, since they are nearly always done for reasons of pure sentimental crowd-pleasing. In this movie, though, I truly was hoping that the characters would find the happiness and freedom which they sought. For a somewhat cynical movie-goer like me, who tends to prefer downer endings in general, this is saying something.
As her expressive face often shows, Elisa is possessed of an iron bravery and boldness that speaks far louder than her missing voice ever could. |
This is all not to say that I found everything in the movie great. While some of the humor is quite good, a few gags don't quite hit. More than this, though, is that I found the story a bit heavy-handed and obvious in how it presented certain characters as being social misfits. Elisa's gay neighbor and her African-American coworker face the discrimination that was certainly typical of the day, but del Toro doesn't really present their plights in subtle or creative ways. For a movie that is bursting with vibrancy in so many ways, it would have been nice to see a little more novelty or at least deftness in the depictions of those discriminated against.
This was the fifth of the nine Oscar Best Picture nominees that I've now seen. While I still have several more to take in, this one is definitely very high in the running for the award. Though not flawless, it demonstrates the dazzling artistry and particular magic that can be accomplished in no other media than film.
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