By: G Wayne
Copyright © 3/6/18
Shape of water is an oxymoron. Water has no shape. And who was the moron that came up with this title anyway? Maybe he was not a moron, but a moronic fox, another oxymoron. The title, having no meaning, draws the audience through their search for illumination, into quasi-fantasy/reality worlds that slam the viewers back and forth like a jet plane landing on rocks. This movie is a politic abandonment of logic and ethics at the same time.

Where have all the censures gone, long time passing?
There used to be guidelines for movie making. At one time the Hays Code helped movie makers develop wholesome motion pictures. It was a collection of rules adhered to by the industry like:
Do not ridicule the clergy.
Do not offend any nation, race or creed.
Do not have the heroine fuck a fish.

But this movie, dear readers, manages to slip in copious amounts of perversion in such an artistic manner that it seems proper, and good for the soul. Elisa Esposito (Sally Hawkins) repeatedly plods her naked rumpie across the silver screen in close-up shots as she goes through her morning ritual of masturbating in the tub. I am no saint and realize that masturbating in the tub is probably commonplace, but this scene is repeated to the point that I felt I was going blind. Fortunately for Elisa, she only did it until she lost her voice.

The amphibious monster (Doug Jones) has the best job in the cast, lots of screen time with no lines. Elisa manages to turn her bathroom into Seaworld and then get it on with the seductive beast. Later, she describes in sign language the sheath that covers his gentiles. I guess it is there so his balls do not drag in the sand.

It was hinted at in the movie King Kong that Fay Wray had a thing for him, but there was no love making in that movie. I could envision her ascending his giant member as if it were a scaly telephone pole.

The dastardly villain in this poignant melodrama is a racist named Strickland (Michael Shannon). Del Toro manages to instill hatred in the audience for him from his very first appearance. The character is portrayed as mean, hateful, and sadistic, all within the first ten seconds of his entrance. We all felt extreme joy when his shiny new 1962 Cadillac was smashed up. The only sympathy was for the car. As the movie goes on, he loses his monster to the cleaning lady, and loses his fingers to gangrene while taking a lot of pain killers, no opioid scare back then.

Zelda Fuller (Octavia Spencer) to me was the glue that held this picture together. Her fierce loyalty for her friend Elisa is refreshing and I wish I knew more people like her.

There is one scene that is so refreshing and stands in such extreme contrast to the rest of the movie; I will not spoil the surprise for those who have not seen it.

One last thought: If you bring the kids to see this flick, better start a regiment of timing their showers.

G Wayne

G Looks at the Movies