The Shape of Water: Review

When I sat down to watch The Shape of Water at the ODEON Screen Unseen, all I knew about the film was the description that an American friend had given me – ‘it’s essentially Splash,’ she said, ‘during the Cold War.’ Now, she wasn’t wrong there, but there’s so much more to this film than that – The Shape of Water is an absolutely beautiful film and a wonderful tale of love and acceptance for outsiders. You can tell that a romantic fantasy like this is helmed by Guillermo del Toro, and it may well surpass even Pan’s Labyrinth in terms of richness and magic.

Guillermo del Toro has recently won a Golden Globe for Best Director for The Shape of Water – will he be up for the Oscars too? Image credit: Wikimedia Commons

Elisa (Sally Hawkins) is a mute cleaner who works in a top-secret underground laboratory in 1962. One day, the cruel federal agent Strickland (Michael Shannon) brings a new specimen to the facility – a merman (Doug Jones), with whom Elisa strikes up an unlikely friendship (the two share both silence and a kindred spirit). Elisa soon realises that the creature’s only chance for survival is to help it escape from the lab, and recruits her neighbour (Richard Jenkins) and her chatty worker (Octavia Spencer) to save it. From there on, their connection grows.

It’s hard to know exactly how to classify The Shape of Water. It is, at times, a romance, with echoes of a spy drama at others (right down to the inclusion of Russian spies and a belligerent general determined to beat the Soviets). It is to del Toro’s credit that he deftly mixes these otherwise generic influences together, but never loses track of any of the different strands.

His Golden Globe-winning direction is supported by an absolutely superb cast. Sally Hawkins (from last year’s smash hit Paddington 2) must give a silent performance, and it’s a premise that would have completely sunk the film if it were misplayed. However, her expressive face and body language highlight her loneliness, a believable trait that makes the idea of her finding a kindred spirit in the merman completely plausible. Doug Jones, del Toro’s regular collaborator and the go-to guy for bringing monsters to life (currently playing alien first officer Saru in Star Trek: Discovery), is also reliant solely on expression. His merman is in equal parts alien and all-too-humanly vulnerable.

You can tell that a romantic fantasy like this is helmed by Guillermo del Toro, and it may well surpass even Pan’s Labyrinth in terms of richness and magic.

The supporting performances are wonderful, too. Jenkins is a strong counterpoint to Hawkins, both sharing the joy of each other’s company, and he struck me as the most realistic character – he is struggling with his own inner demons, he is desperate to retrieve his job, and he is thrust into a situation he doesn’t understand because it’s the right thing to do. There’s a scene in which Elisa tries to convince him to help her, and she gets him to speak his sign language out loud – it’s incredibly powerful. Spencer too provides this realness. There is a sense of these characters as people, rather than characters.

Shannon is the villain of the piece; he is cruel, as these ’50s government agents always seem to be, but del Toro shows his family life and fear of failure to avoid making him just another stereotype. Shannon wrings every last drop out of Strickland. He is exceptional, as always, and he is a villain that we understand as much as we fear. The merman may be a monster, but we’re left in no doubt as to who the real monster is.

There is a sense of these characters as people, rather than characters.

The Shape of Water is a beautifully shot movie, with art direction conjuring up the nostalgia of a ’50s Hollywood film. Every aspect is so well choreographed, it’s hard to pick out one highlight; from the colours to the framing of certain shots (a transition across a rainy window from Giles to the merman is a good example), from the recurring motif of water to Alexandre Desplat’s quirky and captivating score. The love and mastery put into this film is clear. I must also mention the movie’s last ten or so minutes, which is the most beautiful rainy sequence on film since Road to Perdition, which had me hooked.

This is a movie that could so easily have stumbled over its own premise, becoming too sentimental or not creating the necessary atmosphere for viewers to buy into it. However, this does not happen. The Shape of Water understands the true heart underpinning its premise, and never forgets it. It’s an absolutely magical and charming film – make sure you go and watch it!