On Sea Creatures and Loneliness

The Shape of Water (Guillermo del Toro, 2017)

What is it that drives us to loneliness? How do we find ourselves, and our other halves? How do we communicate with each other — and how do we fail?

In Del Toro’s meticulously-crafted world, the Sea Creature is the embodiment of loneliness. The Creature is a God, revered by Amazonian tribes, with miraculous powers that can heal. By the final few scenes, the evil man realizes this, too, and dies because of it.

And yet, Sally Hawkins’ Elisa falls head over heels in love with the Creature, gills and all, in an act of defiance towards the human condition. She is ephemerally optimistic, and her eyes project a vivid lust for life. And it is in her eyes that we see the Creature. We inhabit her skin and sees the fantastic in the Creature.

Much has been said about this film — as it should be. Del Toro is at his best since the amazing Pan’s Labyrinth, which shares much of the whimsical fantasy of The Shape of Water. In an interview, the director tells us that this is a film where he confronts the fears of today, for the first time in his career.

The Shape of Water is a masterwork in cinematic storytelling.