The Shape of Water (2017) * * * 1/2

Directed by:  Guillermo del Toro

Starring:  Sally Hawkins, Michael Shannon, Richard Jenkins, Octavia Spencer, Doug Jones, Michael Stuhlbarg

The Shape of Water could have been made in the 50's as a schlocky science fiction romance titled, "I Fell in Love with an Amphibian".    It could have played as part of a double feature with Mant from the movie Matinee (1993).    But, The Shape of Water isn't made like a B-movie, but instead as an absorbing story of isolation.    Its characters are all cut off from ordinary joy in some way.    Whether it is the ability to speak, humanity, a loving marriage, a mate, or even a place to truly call home; the characters in The Shape of Water all are missing something.     For some, that something remains elusive.    Others find what they are looking for.

We first meet Elisa (Hawkins), a mute woman unable to speak since childhood.   The scratches on her neck suggest a trauma caused her condition, but she can hear, is intelligent, and holds down a job at a dingy government lab in 1960's Baltimore.    Her apartment, like the lab, is dirty, run down, with mildew clinging to the walls.    Elisa is a slave to her routine because well, she doesn't have much else to be a slave to.    She wakes up, boils eggs for her lunch, masturbates in a full bathtub while timed with an egg timer, and then visits her lonely, alcoholic artist neighbor Giles (Jenkins-in a compassionate, sympathy-drawing performance).   

Elisa's other friend is her fellow custodian Zelda (Spencer), who is in a troubled marriage and tells Elisa all about it.    One night, a tank arrives full of water with an amphibious creature swimming inside.    The creature (Jones) has gills which emerge from its neck and was kidnapped from the Amazon by the sadistic, ambitious bureaucrat  Richard Strickland (Shannon), who zaps the poor creature with a shock stick for his own pleasure.    One night, the creature fights back and bites off two of Strickland's fingers, which are later sewn on haphazardly.   The oozing pus and rot from the fingers is symbolic of Strickland's own inner rot, for you literary buffs.

Elisa feels a connection to the creature.    During her cleaning of the lab (which looks like it will never be clean again), she communicates with him, plays jazz to him, feeds him hard-boiled eggs, and they fall in love...as much as one can fall in love with an amphibian and vice versa.     The romance is not as convincing as the idea of a warm, loving friendship between two outcasts.     There is even a sex scene or two between them.    How this occurs is best left unexplored, although Elisa explains it to Zelda in her own inimitable way.

A compassionate lab doctor (Stuhlbarg) with a questionable background believes the creature should be humanely treated and studied.    Strickland awaits the go-ahead from his superiors to kill it and cut it open.    Elisa catches wind of the plot and with help from Zelda, a reluctant Giles, and the doctor, she is able to remove the creature from the lab with the understanding that Elisa will eventually have to return him to the sea during the upcoming rainy season.

The entire plot is inherently ridiculous on its surface, but del Toro presents us with a memorable atmosphere and societal subtext.    Intolerance leads to isolation and loneliness, which makes it harder for those affected to break free.   Even though the events take place in 1960s Baltimore, they are otherworldly, as if this world is one inhabited apart from the ugly realities of civil rights violence and the Cold War which are depicted on TV.   Poor Giles witnesses racism and homophobia up close when trying to woo a waiter at his favorite diner.    Jenkins' performance is the best in the film; easily the one we can empathize with the most.     To Elisa, world events don't register much at all, especially when the creature arrives.

The Shape of Water is rich, involving and touching.    The creature exhibits more compassion and humanity than some of the human characters, especially Strickland, whose only goal in life is to work his way up the bureaucratic ranks.     He is a cold, unfeeling instrument of the government, perfect for their Cold War needs, but not much good for anyone else.    Shannon masterfully handles the role, although it is less complex than the others, but no less effective.    I was also intrigued by Stuhlbarg, whose doctor harbors secrets and questionable loyalties and tries to negotiate his way through his love of science vs. love of country.   

Since Hawkins has no voice, except for a brief musical interlude expressing her love which is a tad over the top (look what you created La La Land!), and thus has to gain our trust and sympathy with nonverbal skills which are up to the task.    The creature completes her, as Elisa says, and in many ways we see how and why.