The Shape of Water

The Shape of Water Guillermo del Toro

I’ve seen the film before, but it shows how important cinema is. I’ve seen it, probably in the box while texting. It’s horror, and it’s 2017, and I felt I had to keep up with everything, so I’m digesting nothing.

However, the immersive cinematic qualities of the film, best experienced on the silver screen, draw you in and hold your attention, much like a glass box.

On one level, it’s simple: a girl meets a fish, and they fall in love. But the sheer level of detail and intricacies bought from the set design could make a Caro film blush, the politics as nuanced from post-war red scare to the context of green pie. I love an egg on a timer.

It’s a film that manages to be sweet, coherent, and rich all along, evoking a range of emotions from the audience. It’s a testament to the power of cinema to stir the soul and engage the mind.

The story is not just about Elisa, the captivating lead, but also about the supporting characters, each of whom could carry their own story. This complexity draws you in and keeps you invested. 

Michael Shannon’s toxic yet needy man-child, Richard Strickland, has a great deal of backstory and screentime to ensure we see not just his violence but also his frailty. Everyone has a past, a family, and consequences for the decisions they make. 

With the magical realism intact and the politics entwined with the world on display, this is a film where cinema is in its element, right down to the sound. You should seek it out as soon as you can to feel the experience and let it wave over you.

A beautiful time.