“Unable to perceive the shape of you, I find you all around me. Your presence fills my eyes with your love. It humbles my heart, for you are everywhere.”
The Shape of Water follows Elisa Esposito (Sally Hawkins), a mute woman who works as a cleaning lady in an early 60s government lab in Baltimore. Despite her friends Giles (Richard Jenkins) and Zelda (Octavia Spencer), Elisa is plagued by loneliness and a feeling of isolation due to her disability and difference. When a secret, mysterious half human, half amphibious “monster” is transferred to the lab, Elisa finds herself falling for the living experiment that she sees as having a life so similar to her own. When it becomes evident that the facility’s security head Mr. Strickland (Michael Shannon) plans to kill the monster, Elisa decides to save her new friend.
The Shape of Water is a film about the need to feel connected; the need to be seen by someone, anyone. This is most obviously true regarding lead character Elisa, a mute orphan who feels unnoticed, and othered when she is actually acknowledged, and who longs for affection and contact. In the monster, she sees some of herself as is so memorably portrayed in a rousing argument by Hawkins. He also cannot speak, is looked at as less than fully human for not being able to do so. In him, Elisa finally has someone to share her experiences with and to connect to. This sense of loneliness and longing is extended to Giles, an older gay man who exists in a time where being so is verboten. He so longs for someone to share a life with that he frequents a diner and eats pie he can’t stand just so he can have moments of conversation with an attractive young worker. And the film’s antagonist, Mr. Strickland also displays this yearning for acknowledgement, though it doesn’t manifest itself through romance. With the stern lawman, we see it through his profession and drive to succeed and please his superior, General Hoyt (Nick Searcy). When things are going well, and he’s in the good graces and enjoying the fruits of his labor, Strickland feels above it all and everyone else. When this goes away, he feels as if he’s losing and becomes unhinged. All of these characters’s reactions to feeling unwanted and unappreciated feels especially relevant as widespread loneliness in modern society becomes an increasing concern, and makes the film’s impact feel that much stronger.
Another aspect of the film that I found interesting was its use of sex. Director Guillermo Del Toro did not shy away from the display of sexual gratification, giving us a masturbation scene very early on in the story. But the use of sex here was not gratuitous or salacious and felt more matter of fact which was a welcome change from usual fare. Not only was it not harped upon as some sort of sinfully pleasureful taboo, sex was actually utilized as a way to convey the feelings of the characters. Elisa’s ritualistic bathtub masturbation sessions are indicative of the loneliness she feels and the lack of excitement and spontaneity she experiences. Giles’s seeming hypersexuality and frankness is also an expression of his loneliness and isolation as an older gay man who has gone through life unsure of where to find companionship. In a scene at home with his wife Elaine (Lauren Lee Smith), we see Strickland’s need to dominate and feel in charge displayed through sex with his wife, covering her mouth and demanding that she be silent, going against her vocal nature. We come back to his need to dictate to women and how that plays into both his psyche and his kink when he sexually harasses Elisa and fantasizes about accomplishing the opposite with her, getting the mute woman to make a sound during sex. The handling of sex as a natural human act and desire that gives one a glimpse into how an individual’s mind works rather than something that simply titillates was an interesting turn.
I’m a sucker for easter eggs and Del Toro’s use of visual cues in this film satisfied that for me. Elisa lives above a movie theater and throughout the film, we’re presented with shots of the marquee: The Story of Ruth/Mardi Gras. The Story of Ruth is a 1960 film about a woman who was orphaned and falls in love with a man. The two end up being persecuted and in her attempt to free him from his imprisonment, things go wrong. Sound familiar? Mardi Gras is also a film about a couple that fall in love in an unexpected place, this time in while the famous actress female love interest is in disguise at Mardi Gras. Another easter egg that stuck out immediately was the “Loose Lips May Sink Ships” poster that Zelda walked past before Elisa’s escape plans for the monster started to unravel, as a result of two people being unable to keep from telling their secret. Seemingly no shot is wasted; nearly everything we see comes back and is explained or matters later on. From the scars on Elisa neck to the note regarding Elisa’s plan for release on her calendar. This type of attention to detail and rewarding of attentive, astute viewers is indicative of the type of high level directing we’ve become accustomed to from Del Toro. I must also give compliments to the score and soundtrack. The sounds presented fit each scene and the tension that we see on screen while the songs chosen for the soundtrack fit perfectly with the 1960s culture and esthetic brought to life by Del Toro.
Coming out of the festival circuit, Sally Hawkins has most of the buzz out of the film’s actors and deservedly so. She deftly portrays the loneliness and isolation of a disability like being mute and the pain that comes with it and the elation of finally finding someone you can identify with a feel connected to. Her performance when revealing her desire to break out the monster to Giles is one of the year’s best and is a strong statement of the need of human beings to feel like they are seen and appreciated. Richard Jenkins is perfect as the supporting character best friend but also does great with his own mini-arc, displaying the pain of being a man of the future during a time that is decidedly not. He also has awards buzz but while he did fit this film like a glove, I’m not ready to call it one of the year’s best supporting performances just yet. Octavia Spencer, Michael Shannon, and Michael Stuhlbarg, who plays scientist and Soviet spy Dr. Robert Hoffstetler/”Dmitri”, give the superb supporting performances that we are accustomed to from the trio. At this point, one would think they would be bored by yet another intense villain turn from Shannon but his scene with Spencer at her home where he passionately recalls the crushing of the Philistines by Samson and ties it into what he’ll do to her if she does not tell him where to find the monster shows that Shannon is still right in the middle of his acting prime and will not wear on audiences anytime soon. In a story that could easily weird out the audience and cause them to be disengaged as a result, it’s the acting performances (in tandem with the direction) that keeps the viewer enthralled.
The Shape of Water is undoubtedly one of the year’s best films and nails the telling of a sort of adult fairy tale, the classic “Beauty meets Beast” tale interwoven with real life adult emotions and issues. The cast is superb in bringing the story on screen and Guillermo Del Toro ably shares with us a story that should be absurd on its face, and making it a real, resonate experience.
Image: Fox Searchlight
