The Shape of Water

"The Shape of Water" is an unearthly adult fairytale by fantastical filmmaker Guillermo del Toro that plays like a mix of "E.T.," "Harry and the Hendersons," and any number of Spielbergian-style '80s fantasies. Treading in waters (pun intended) that M. Night Shylaman attempted with "Lady in the Water," del Toro has crafted a loving homage to the misfits and the outcasts who fight to find their place in the world. And he is mostly successful.

When I say that "The Shape of Water" is an "adult" fairy tale, I mean that it's not necessarily for the kids. Kids will enjoy many aspects of this genial take on "Creature from the Black Lagoon," but with full frontal female nudity, comical scenes of masturbation, and bloody violence, this isn't for the younger set.

The story opens in 1962 with narration from Giles (Richard Jenkins), a gay older artist who paints ads for magazines. He lives next door to Elisa (Sally Hawkins), a mute woman who works as a nighttime cleaning lady for a high-security government facility. Giles speaks of a woman who became involved with a monster and how that affected them all. With the film's gorgeous opening shots of a huge apartment flooded with water, we see Elisa slowly float down to her couch then wake up (water-free) to begin her day.

Elisa is a woman of routine. She times her baths, her masturbation time, cooks her hardboiled eggs, makes a sandwich for both herself and Giles, shines her shoes, and then heads off to work via public transportation. Once she arrives at the facility, she meets up with co-worker Zelda (Octavia Spencer) with whom she spends her nights cleaning the expansive building. Zelda is a talker, which is good because Elisa hasn't been able to speak since she was a child -- something about being found in water and having her vocal chords slashed.

Soon enough, the two find themselves in a large lab where a strange coffin-like tube is brought in filled with seawater. Curious, Elisa taps on the glass of the tube, and that's when an otherworldly scaly hand slaps on the glass from the inside. The two women are rushed out, and it's never spoken of again. That is, of course, until Elisa is cleaning the lab and discovers what is being kept in there. (This is a sticking point for me, as there are secret experiments going on, yet the cleaning ladies are given carte blanche to enter the lab whenever they want.)

The creature she discovers is - by all appearances - part man, part fish. The credits call him Amphibian Man (Doug Jones), and he is just as curious about Elisa as she is of him. Over the next week, Elisa brings the creature eggs to eat and eventually smuggles in her record player to play music. The two bond, and it's all a big delight until the true monster shows up, an official named Strickland (Michael Shannon, being evil again) who doesn't particularly like the creature and is prone to abusing him. This clearly doesn't sit well with Elisa, and she begins to make plans to get him out of the facility.

This all sounds familiar, right? And it is. But it is told through the slightly askew lens of del Toro. Where there are clear Spielberg flourishes here, del Toro adds darker elements to fit his aesthetic. This may keep some audiences away, especially when the implied sex happens, but it's all done whimsically enough that no reasonable person would be horrified or offended. Del Toro also does a nice job of making the story about misfits helping a misfit. Giles is a closeted gay man with a crush on a diner owner. Zelda is a black woman in the '60s, and Elisa is mute, which, in that day and age, might as well make her a circus freak.

All of this is blended with del Toro's off-kilter aesthetic, a charming score by Alexandre Desplat, and a pointed script by del Toro and Vanessa Taylor ("Divergent" and the upcoming "Aladdin"). While there is nothing largely wrong with the film, it doesn't quite reach "masterpiece" status because of its minor flaws. Zelda is lightly drawn with only hints at what her home life is like and one scene where she stands up to it that isn't as effective as it should have been. Similarly, Giles has some quirks and issues that are brought up but never fleshed out. It is implied he used to be an alcoholic and he was fired from his previous job, but was he fired because of his drinking or his homosexuality? And as an older gay man, he is insistent on flirting with the younger guy at the diner who he fawns over like a teenager. He also boasts a number of stereotypes, like being obsessed with beautiful Hollywood starlets. In the end, this is another film where the gay character watches from the sidelines as the heterosexual couple (as odd as they are) find love.

The cast is excellent, however, and they give the characters depth despite some of them being lightly drawn. Hawkins is a dream as the silent Elisa, and I appreciate that del Toro didn't cast some raging beauty for the role. Spencer is doing what she's done as of late, but she's delightful regardless. And Jenkins is touching and sweet as the lonely Giles.

Doug Jones is a master at playing creatures in many films ("Pans Labyrinth," "Crimson Peak"), but he's not given much of a character here. The Creature is fascinating to look at, but the eyes are hard to decipher, so we don't see much going on behind them. He doesn't have the personality that E.T. or Bigfoot Harry had, so he's sort of a blank slate that takes a liking to a human woman. There's a sweet puppy dog quality to him, but nothing much deeper. This makes the ending of the film not as emotional as one would hope. It's sweet and beautiful to look at, but there won't be any swooning or tears.

"The Shape of Water" fills you up with sweet quirkiness, but dries off shortly after you get out of it. It's a harmless take on a familiar tale that adds some surprisingly adult elements, but ultimately it is a shape we've seen before.