Columns

Subterranean: A look back at ‘The Shape of Water’

by Walter G. Tarrow
How do you become aware of what might be of interest to watch? What spurs you on to turn on the TV? To click on a video? To go out and see a movie?
Do you, like so many of us, turn on your TV, your smart phone, your tablet or laptop and watch whatever happens to come on? Passively interrupting your boredom with whatever? And do you find yourself often turning off the whatever, perhaps after flipping through the channels or browsing the Internet, and declaring “there’s never anything to watch.”?
Do you even care?
Or are the TV, your devices, even the movie theater, just mindless diversions, background noise, to drown out your daily drudgery?
Do you actively seek to educate, inform and entertain yourself? Or do you limit yourself to a habitual few of TV channels, social media sites and video sources, a steady diet of audiovisual comfort foods? Do you go to the movies for a single type of movie being unwilling to try something new, something different?
Do you restrict yourself to a single or handful of sources that provide you with your beloved security blanket of familiar themes, plots, faces and dialogue not forcing you to look outside your box? Do you refuse to watch movies and TV with which you disagree or haven’t liked in the past?
I’ve discovered that the major difference between the majority of Americans, and citizens of Earth for that matter, and the minority driving us to try something new, something different, is a desire to learn, to explore.
Several groups to which I belong, including my 20-plus years group of guys watching movies, my Tyler Durden Movie Club, all share a willingness to explore and to expand their awareness of their world through movies and TV. The TV is not just a backlit family friend invited to drone on in the background, or like ASMR, provide a soothing sensory salve. It’s a tool to open up new vistas and allow in fresh and unique ideas to challenge and enrich our lives.
Lynn Mandaville, a fellow Townbroadcast columnist, was tagged on Facebook as watching “The Shape of Water.” That moved me to rewatch that movie and again the first question is how might I be able to watch it.
I originally saw the movie in the theater. I loved it so much I bought the Blu-ray disc as soon as it became available. Included with the Blu-ray was a DVD copy and a digital copy which I uploaded to Vudu.com. And after a search for the movie on my JustWatch app, I found the movie now available on Fubu, Spectrum, FXNow, DirecTV, Redbox, Apple TV, Vudu, and AMC Theatres On Demand. Of course, it’s also available through my local library.
Being too lazy to load my disc player, I opted for my Vudu.com digital copy. And I still love this movie, perhaps even more because I could sit back and watch with a deeper appreciation of the filmmaker’s art and talent.
 
How willing are you to go deeper with YOUR viewing habits?
So without further ado, here’s my review from December of 2017″
The Shape of Water

My favorite film of 2017, but unlike my best picture choice of 2016 The Handmaiden, this film from Guillermo del Toro (Hellboy, Pacific Rim, Pan’s Labyrinth) is not flying under the radar.

Already, well ahead of the Oscars on March 4, the film has won more than 60 awards including Best Picture from the American Film Institute and the Critics’ Choice Awards. And rightly so.

Films from the mind of del Toro are not typical mainstream fare, but artistic achievements that truly transport and transcend. The Shape of Water is a faerie tale, not for kids, but for grownups. With art and production design, cinematography, musical score, and characters portrayed achingly, compassionately and honestly, the film draws on classic monsters and tales of scrappy heroes and malevolent villains placing these recognizable archetypes in an even more recognizable fantastic version of America in the 1950s.

Something of a reimagining of a 1950s creature feature “Revenge of the Creature” (itself a sequel to “Creature from the Black Lagoon”), an aquatic humanoid, a man fish if you will, is captured and transported to a lab in Baltimore where the US military seeks to weaponize its unique physiology. Upon its nostalgic B movie premise, del Toro adds layers of Cold War realities and human conditions, motivations and emotions, and elevates all to a truly profound, heartfelt experience.

Michael Shannon (“Nocturnal Animals,” “Take Shelter”) is at his sinister best as, under the direction of his military superior, the cowardly cruel torturer of the creature. Sally Hawkins (“Happy-Go-Lucky,” “Blue Jasmine”) is the mute cleaner at the lab who, at first, cares for, then falls in love with, the creature, and ultimately works to help him escape. And Richard Jenkins (“Six Feet Under,” “The Visitor”) is the corporate tossed aside aging gay artist/commercial illustrator who aids and abets the creature’s rescue.

In this, and his previous films, del Toro compels us to realize, through the horrid plight of the “monster,” that the true monsters are those who visit pain and suffering upon the innocent. Shannon’s character lives, on the surface, the idyllic Rockwellian good life with a beautiful family, a fancy car and an important position of power. He listens to the advice of motivational speakers, but is arrogant, insecure and bullying. And through an injury resulting from a violent encounter with the creature, we begin to see, in a physical sense, how corrupt he is deep down inside.

In addition, Russian agents, with one being on the team researching the creature, are poised to steal it or at least its secrets. All the while, suspicion, mistrust and hostility are driven by the international politics and culture of the time. Even Richard Jenkins’ artist is a victim of the ’50s biases against homosexuality.

With art and production design charming, fanciful and clever, and a score that captures the faerie of the tale, the film is a captivating work of cinematic art.

At its core, however, Shape is an enchanting love story. A love story, like Beauty and the Beast, which finds compassion runs deep, and beauty, true inner beauty, naturally innocent, resides with love most meaningfully within.

1 Comment

  • We were a few years late in coming to see this marvelous film. Your review ought to inspire other johnny-come-latelys to see it. With so many possible sources at our fingertips, there’s no excuse not to.

Leave a Comment