The Shape of Water review

Mexican born filmmaker Guillermo Del Toro is fascinated by the idea that people are often drawn to what initially scares them, usually only because they fundamentally misunderstand themselves and the greater context of their own fears. As such, his films--both indie darlings like “Pan’s Labyrinth” and “The Devil’s Backbone,” as well as studio blockbusters like “Pacific Rim” and “Hellboy"--are chock full of interesting and intricately designed monsters. As a visual artist and a storyteller Del Toro loves his monsters and for him, they always represent a complex emotional truth about the nature of humanity. With his latest film, “The Shape of Water,” the balance between his directorial compassion and his genre obsessions is blended delicately into a contemporary “Beauty and Beast” style narrative, with a central focus on diversity, tolerance, and equality.

The story is set in the cold-war 1960s at the height of the red scare. Sally Hawkins plays Elisa Esposito, a mute janitor who cleans a secret government science compound. Things get interesting when an amphibious humanoid merman is captured from his underwater home in South America and brought into the facility to be studied. Some of the scientists wish to keep him alive to understand his capability to learn, and others, like the stone-faced, military-minded Richard Strickland (Michael Shannon), plan to dissect the creature to develop new science to use against their Russian enemies. Hawkins secret friendship and eventual romance with the amphibious man leads to a rescue effort that involves co-worker Zelda (Octavia Spencer), the sympathetic Dr. Hoffstetler (Michael Stuhlbarg), and her graphic designer neighbor Giles (Richard Jenkins).

Given the time period this movie is set and the basic structure of the plot, it would have been easy to allow a story of this kind of coast of genre expectations alone. What makes the film stand out from being yet another high-concept take on “E.T” or “Free Willy” is Del Toro’s willingness to dig deep into a psychology of his characters and their worldview. The film's theme of what it is to be ostracized as a minority dominates and naturalizes the fantasy.  Hawkins’ character is mute, Spencer is black, and they both work as women in a government-industry dominated by white men. Likewise, Jenkins plays a closeted gay man, and it’s the unified ‘other-ness’ of this grouping of minorities that is manifested through the struggle of this abused and imprisoned merman. As we see the civil rights struggle in the background of this story, it becomes all the more evident that the creature's rescue becomes their rescue. 

The central love story between Elisa and this mysterious being, played with wonderful physicality by Doug Jones, takes risks and goes beyond the usual slow build to acceptance and eventual affection. Hawkins’ wordless performance strips away the possibility for coyness or coded language when it comes to all of her emotions and as the story progresses their love is expressed both emotionally and physically. This, along with Guillermo’s biting sense of humor, and the occasional jolts of visceral violence may alienate some audience members, but even if this is too weird for you to swallow, it’s difficult to deny the movie’s bold commitment to its premise.

Everyone already knows that Del Toro is Hollywood's current king of creature design and art direction. “The Shape of Water” is no exception. However, by putting his focus on one central creature, instead of a smorgasbord of weird looking monsters we are usually treated to in one of his previous films, he is able to dig deeper into the wider human world his characters inhabit. The 60s sets are well lit and creatively designed and the “Creature From The Black Lagoon” inspired look of Jones’ costume is textured and utterly believable, but it's Del Toro’s capacity to empathize with these characters and ground this world into an emotional reality that elevates this movie beyond its fairytale tropes and trappings.

Grade: A

Originally Published in the Idaho State Journal/Dec-2017

Listen to this episode of Jabber and the Drone to hear more conversation about "The Shape of Water"

The Imitation Game review

              As a classically presented movie’s-movie “The Imitation Game” is sufficiently, and perhaps superficially, entertaining. The actor’s performances are strong, the direction by Mortem Tyldum is confident, and the production design and attention to period detail is convincing enough to capture an audience’s attention. That said, as a historical document and as a year-end awards contender, the film fails to sell its ethos in a sincere or graceful manner.

            Benedict Cumberbatch plays Allen Turing, the underappreciated genius who was hired by the British government to lead a secret team of code-breakers during World War II. Having grown up with few points of commonality among his peers, Turing was forced to stifle his ego and his anti-social disposition to successfully work with other scientists and math magicians as they worked tireless nights figuring out how to crack the ciphered messages delivered between the Nazi soldiers. Complicating the issue, he was also a repressed and closeted homosexual, working for a government that criminalized his natural desires and collaborating with a team of jealous Alfa-males who challenge his masculinity –the latter issue being a contrived plot device that underlines the manipulation of Graham Moore’s  ‘Oscar winning’ screenplay.

            Mathew Good does his best to justify his character’s hokey archetype as Turing’s caddish colleague and Kiera Knightly fits comfortably into the film’s Weinstein-brand austerity as Joan Clark, the only female code-breaker who finds a unique kin-ship with Cumberbatch’s effortless outsider portrayal. Peripheral performances from Mark Strong and Charles Dance as the team’s impatient military superiors are also a welcomed addition, but this admirable ensemble only masks the film’s achingly generic and narratively unambitious screenplay.

              There’s also the issue of how Turing’s hidden sexuality is sheepishly handled, the film often bumbles its way through very specific identity struggles. At different points the character’s secret is compared to Clark’s plight as an underappreciated woman and later he’s accused of being a Russian communist spy because he refuses to share certain aspects of his life with his co-workers. These comparisons, while not all together ineffective as a script device or an easy short hand for a straight audience, are somewhat misjudged when considering the deeper emotional complexities that the film doesn't even bother to approach.

              Artificiality isn't all together a bad thing in cinema and if judged as an overblown movie-of-the-week style dramatization of important war history “The Imitation Game” safely delivers as a soft-thriller. The movie’s moral questions about how and when to conceal highly sensitive war-time intelligence and the depiction of the race to break the Nazi’s Enigma machine has a filmic immediacy that lacks from the melodrama that dominates most of the screen-time. Nevertheless, the film’s rush to one-liners and lazy characterizations spoil whatever authenticity we are supposed to glean from the story’s message about intolerance and social progress.

Grade: C+

Originally Published in the Idaho State Journal/March-2015