Water Feature

There is a scene in 1954’s Creature from the Black Lagoon where the female lead, played by Julie Adams, swims through the water. Shot from both above and below, there is a loving elegance to the camera work, and, in a few of the underwater moments, the lighting almost makes it seem as if she is swimming in the nude. Eventually, the Creature appears, and what develops can be looked at in two lights. . . one – that he is stalking her, murder in the monster’s every fibre; two – his movements, mirroring hers, are almost like a sensuous dance, a love-match for the long secluded and lonely Creature. This year’s Academy Award Best Picture contender, The Shape of Water, accepts the second perspective not followed in the Universal horror classic, developing a movie that very much could be its long lost alternate reality sequel.

Written and directed by horror maestro Guillermo del Toro, he sews several threads together so that movie afficionados could almost believe that this is the case – perhaps most importantly that it is set only a few years after 1954 (a moment when xenophobic fears were running high with the Cold War at its most tense) and that the creature comes from the Amazon as well. . . while security expert Richard Strickland (Michael Shannon) makes it very clear that it was no easy feat transporting the powerful and mysterious amphibian back to America. Its look is also very much influenced by the horror classic.

Literally a fish out of water fairytale story, our protagonist is a mute woman with noticeable scars on both sides of her neck, Elisa Esposito (Sally Hawkins), who works as a janitor at a top secret research facility. Feeling out of place, a lonesome woman in a world that is full of loud voices, her life is in one big repetitious rut. With a routine of waking, bathing (and masturbating), peeling off the next day on her calendar, and then taking the bus to her lowly job, her only two saving graces are her outspoken friend and fellow janitor Zelda Fuller (Octavia Spencer), as well as her equally forlorn neighbour Giles (Richard Jenkins) – a man who has a secret buried deep in his closet.

Then, one day a secret package is delivered by Strickland, it carrying an Amphibian Man (Doug Jones) unlike anything ever seen before. To be studied by Dr. Robert Hoffstetler (Michael Stuhlbarg) and his team, this find very well could give the Americans an edge in the Space Race – as its ability to adapt to its surroundings, both above and below water, is something to behold.

Treated like an unruly beast by Strickland, Esposito is drawn to the creature, forming a bond with the stranded fish-man – eating her lunches in his locked-down room, she feeds him eggs while she plays music for them and teaches him sign language. As things spiral out of control and dissension grows amongst the parties – Hoffstetler believes that the creature is intelligent and must be studied, while Strickland wants to vivisect it in order to learn its secrets, Esposito only grows closer to him. Strickland’s bond with five star General Hoyt (Nick Searcy) – the man making the final decision, does not bode well for the creature. Will Esposito be able to rescue the Amphibian Man from captivity before it is too late?

From the film’s very opening, Alexandre Desplat’s transcendent score is noticeable. At times it’s like listening to a fifties sci-fi score from just below the surface of the rippling water, while at others, he amplifies the mystery and thrills heard in every note, yet it often feels as if we are meandering along a cobblestone Parisian street with our one and only true love. It really is a beautiful piece of music, and it needs no higher praise than that.

With richly developed performances, each character brings a unique spin to their respective part. Shannon plays Strickland like an all-American hero, truly believing in what he is doing. To modern eyes, a softcore racist pervert with an aberrant violent streak coursing through his veins, he follows his mission above and beyond the call of duty, his upper echelon position most likely influencing his disturbing power trip. He is at odds with Hawkins’ Esposito, a mousy woman (with an expressive face) that lies at the very bottom of the food chain. Yet, it is through her lowly position that she finds room to grow, meeting a creature that only sees love and caring in her eyes – it is of no importance to him that she is a mute. Then there is Jenkins turn as a man (Giles) who is uncomfortable in his own skin, both literally and figuratively, feeling as if he was born into the wrong time. A struggling artist, he attempts to earn his old job back, and while not painting, is drawn into old movies playing on the television. Stuhlbarg develops a character (Dr. Hoffstetler) drawn between two clashing cultures, his love for science being bombarded by the black and white thinking of the time. Finally, Spencer channels a wise, fast talking friend (Zelda) living in an unfulfilled marriage, always helping Esposito clean up her little messes. Each of the main characters, other than Strickland, are oppressed in some way, and deal with their respective situation in fascinating ways.

Visually stunning, the exquisite sets and vintage colour palette (striking greens, aquamarines and scarlets) bring this Cold War world to life. When combined with del Toro’s deft directorial touch, striking cinematography by Dan Laustsen (Crimson Peak) and some spectacular effects, it is hard not to be ensnared by its visual wonder.

Like last year’s La La Land, The Shape of Water is a motion picture echoing its love for other films from the past, be it musicals, horror films, or comedies. Movies like the aforementioned Creature from the Black Lagoon, The Bride of Frankenstein, Beauty and the Beast, Splash, Follow the Fleet (a mesmerizing dance sequence ode to Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers), and many others will come to mind, while many motion pictures make appearances onscreen by way of Giles’ television set and the movie theatre Esposito lives above – Shirley Temple and Bojangles’ famous dance scene from The Little Colonel as well as a Francis the Talking Mule feature are two examples to look for.

Though not as dynamic as previous screenplays/films like Pan’s Labyrinth or The Devil’s Backbone (thought provoking philosophical features that transcend the medium), The Shape of Water is still a worthy journey into a fairytale landscape – it flows with adventure, romance, drama, suspense, and nice touches of humour. Finding a place somewhere between European art house romance and Hollywood fantasy, it speaks to love, hope, trust, sex, and finding yourself in this world even when you feel like you don’t fit in. Similarly, the film’s themes, which revolve around water, highlight its pliability – able to form into any shape, morphing within its surroundings. . . it speaks to the characters and how they evolve throughout. A final comment must be made in that The Shape of Water can, at times, be quite violent, a few sequences reminiscent of the viscerally brutal moments found in Pan’s Labyrinth. So, take the plunge into this adult fairytale, it’s just your typical story of gill meets girl.