The Shape of Water **** ½ / *****
Directed by: Guillermo del Toro.
Written by: Guillermo del Toro & Vanessa Taylor.
Starring: Sally Hawkins (Eliza Esposito), Michael Shannon (Strickland), Richard Jenkins (Giles), Octavia Spencer (Zelda), Doug Jones (The Asset), Michael Stuhlbarg (Hoffstetler).
Since his debut film Cronos – was back in 1993, it has been very clear that Guillermo del Toro loves monsters. There is not a feature film of his that doesn’t include some monster or another – often ones with large teeth that bite into you and don’t let go. Del Toro was inspired by the monster movies he saw in his youth, but has spent most of his career creating new kinds of monsters – even when he’s making a sequel about vampires (the wonderful Blade II) – they aren’t the type of vampires you’ve seen before – they are somehow worse, grosser and strangely sexual. Perhaps it was only a matter of time before del Toro made a film like The Shape of Water – where the lead character is a woman who literally loves a monsters, in every way that means. This is one of del Toro’s best films – and inarguably his most whimsical – more fantasy than horror this time out, but with his same eye for detail.
Set in the 1950s, the film stars the wonderful Sally Hawkins as Eliza – a mute, cleaning lady who works at a secret government facility, and because of her condition, is pretty much able to blend into the background. She does everything on a set schedule (including, um, her bath tube masturbation ritual with an egg timer) – and only has two friends – her gay artist neighbor, Giles (Richard Jenkins) and her cleaning partner at the facility, Zelda (Octavia Spencer) – she gets along with both so well probably, because neither of them will shut up. One day, into her facility arrives a man from the army – Strickland (Michael Shannon) with a large tube, full of water – and something else – that is place behind a locked door in a larger pool. Eliza is drawn to whatever it is that in that tub (which the trailer reveals far too much of – it was better to see it like I did at TIFF, without that knowledge).
As with all of his films, del Toro’s cinephilia is on full display during The Shape of Water – from his love of old musicals he shares with Giles (and Eliza, who has a couple of charming, solitary dance sequences) – to the old school, large movie houses that they live above –even if they are largely empty (the film was shot at the Elgin theater in Toronto – and I saw it in the same theater, a surreal experience to be sure). The creature – or The Asset as it’s called in the film – is like something out of those old movies, and as is often the case, is misunderstood by all except the woman who loves him. This movie takes that love to its logical conclusion – albeit in a scene that wisely doesn’t get graphic at all.
The real monster in the movie is of course man – in this case, Strickland himself. Shannon is perfectly cast as the violent, stubborn, sexist Strickland – a man who treats his own wife with contempt, so you can tell what he thinks of a pair like Eliza and Zelda. The role doesn’t give much nuance for Shannon to play, but he’s great anyway- even if in this film, his performance still trails behind the delightfully droll and comic one delivered by Richard Jenkins and of course Hawkins, who says so much without speaking.
This is one of del Toro’s best films. As much as I always like his work, for the most part, I think the style trumps the substance of his films – which at times, can ring hollow. His most recent film before this for example – Crimson Peak – was an absolute masterpiece of production design, costumes, cinematography and music, but wasn’t nearly as good on a storytelling or character level. He seems to work best with a little bit less money, and a little bit more freedom (his two other best films are probably The Devil’s Backbone and Pan’s Labyrinth – films he made in his native Spanish, with Mexican money – here, he says he was essentially making a Canadian film – so you can guess he had less funds that on something like Pacific Rim). The Shape of Water represents a perfect marriage between his influences, and his own point-of-view – and while the craftsmanship remains high, it’s not at the sacrifices of the story or its characters (there are so many legitimately great, small character beats, that I normally do not see in del Toro’s work). The film takes a strange premise, and ends up making one of the best romantic fantasies in recent memory. It’s easier to make Beauty and the Beast when the best is furry and cuddly – much hard to do what del Toro pulls off here.
