This post was previously published on Reel Steel.
Widely
praised as his best work since Pan’s Labyrinth (2006), Del Toro’s latest
feature is a thoughtful retelling of the age-old Beauty and the Beast trope of
fairy-tales and classic monster movies alike. The plot focuses on the unlikely
romance between a mute janitor and a humanoid-amphibian creature imprisoned in
the top-secret government laboratory where she works.
Thematically,
The Shape of Water is as reminiscent of an Angela Carter story (see The Bloody
Chamber) as it is The Creature of the Black Lagoon. What elevates The Shape of
Water from a generic ‘creature feature’ is Del Toro’s signature Gothic
aesthetic and his engagement with socio-political issues relating to gender,
race and sexuality. Elisa’s only allies - Giles, her closeted homosexual
roommate (Richard Jenkins), Zelda, her African-American co-worker (Octavia
Spencer) and Doctor Hoffstetler, a marine biologist and Soviet spy (Michael
Stuhlbarg) – are outsiders who exist on the margins of Cold War-era Baltimore.
Likewise, the film’s ‘monster’ is a liminal figure whose existence is an
‘affront’ to the socially conservative, prosperous, yet deeply unstable
American identity, as embodied by Colonel Strickland (Michael Shannon). This
backdrop allows Del Toro to explore a number of issues that are, in many ways,
as relevant today as they were in 1962: institutional racism, harassment in the
workplace and the expression of dangerous, heteronormative attitudes from
people in power. Interestingly, Elisa’s relationship with the amphibian man
(Doug Jones) is never portrayed as transgressive or taboo. Rather, we are
encouraged to see their intimacy as natural. Female masturbation is represented
in similar terms: Elisa’s daily, self-administered stimulation is shown to be
as ordinary as boiling an egg.
Submerged
in a sumptuous, aquatic colour palette, The Shape of Water is
visually-arresting from start to finish. Sally Hawkins’ wordless, sensual
performance recalls the charm of silent cinema, which is heightened by
Alexandre Desplat’s whimsical score, while Doug Jones’ skilful body acting
encourages us see beyond the ‘gill man’ suit to the individual beneath. The
Shape of Water is a moving narrative about otherness that suggestively
interrogates humankind’s capacity for tolerance. Del Toro has affectionately
transcended his subject matter by offering up a monster movie with hidden
depths.
Carly Stevenson is a PhD researcher at the University of
Sheffield and Sheffield Gothic's resident film reviewer. When she is not
immersed in Gothic films, she spends her time exploring the Gothic elements of
Keats.
