I've recently (since Nightmare Alley) decided that I must see all of Guillermo del Toro's films, because why not, so here is The Shape of Water.
Can I begin with getting the most obvious thing out of the way: how on earth is this film so freaking gorgeous? I mean, honestly, can someone explain to me how. How is it that the blues and the greens and the teals and the other colors of this film are so completely and utterly saturated but also at the same time do not wash out the characters or the setting? My poor aesthetic-loving heart cannot take this.
I discussed the usage of color last time when I saw Crimson Peak by Guillermo del Toro, so I won't get too deep into the specifics of color here in terms of the story. However, since I have been reading about color theory, I think I would like to talk more about the relationship between color and the way story is perceived.
The love story between a sea-creature and a human is not that new to us. After all, who here hasn't seen The Little Mermaid? The only difference is that here, del Toro asks us to believe that a person would fall in love with a creature that is not remotely human in its appearance, and does not learn to speak the human tongue.
The thing is, though, in the context of the film, this makes sense, and I can't help but wonder how metaphorical this creature is. One line in particular stood out to me while watching the film, when Elisa tells Giles that they are all freaks. This is a theme I saw recur in del Toro's film Nightmare Alley, and so I can't help but wonder why he is so interested in the so-called freaks of this world. Yet Elisa speaks true when she says they are all freaks. She is mute, Giles is gay, and Zelda is gay. They are not freaks in the way that we conventionally think about freaks today, but in the 1960s in the midst of the Cold War, they were. They were minorities, and so often minorities are labeled freaks and heathens. When Strickland is torturing the creature, he says something along the lines of he himself being made in the image of God (and how ironic, considering he is literally beating a living creature bloody while he says it), and that the creature is unnatural. This is the same argument I hear pitched against transgender people and other queer people all the time, and the underlying messages of the film really seem to speak to me about the suffering of minority groups who are forced into silence. Silence that Elisa and the creature can understand.
The colors of the film help convey these messages and create the feelings of an underlying mystique to the film. Blue is traditionally associated with, on one end of the spectrum, melancholy. It is the color we say when we are feeling "blue" to mean we are feeling sad. And the film is indeed filled with injustice and sadness, when Strickland is (hardly) implicitly racist to Zelda or sexually harasses Elisa, or even when the bartender at the pie place shows to be racist and homophobic. But blue is also the color of serenity, and at the end, in their final kiss below the water, both Elisa and the creature have found that. Elisa has finally found a pair of eyes that look at her with only love and no judgement, and the creature has finally returned home.
Color theory in film, I believe, is the discussion of how the colors in the film are used to make the audience feel, and the underlying blue tones of the film do eons to help the audience reach the emotional conclusions of our main characters. Another color that is also prominent is the color green. In a way, this ties in with the idea of the film's title. Green and blue are both colors of naturally occurring waters. Green has more connotations. It can be nostalgic, because the color of the film reminds us of times when color wasn't able to be so saturated. It can be dangerous, the way green reminds us of poison and underwater dungeons, eerie green lights always seeming to symbolize death. Green too, can be peaceful and complacent, reminding us of the spring. The usage of green to show the story makes the story all of the above. Nostalgic, because this is a film from a time that should be vastly different than ours (unfortunately, the Stricklands of the world have just gotten better at hiding their bigotry). Dangerous, because the green color of the candy Strickland eats as he becomes gradually more unhinged sends a reminder to the audience of his danger, and the contrast of blood against green only serves to highlight red even more. (P.S. love the flashes of red. They're just so bright in the muted film, and I can't help but love the way Elisa wears more and more red as she becomes more and more in love and bold. Queen.) Peaceful, because the creature finds his (its? theirs? I don't know) home in a green room above the theater, in the arms of a mute janitor.
But beyond the technical aspects of the film, I really have to talk about Sally Hawkins' performance. I knew her from Blue Jasmine (I haven't seen the film yet; I will. I just need to find time to watch Cate Blanchett lose her mind. Not an easy task, since I am literally losing my mind over Tár and the film hasn't even come out yet, so how knows if I want to see her lose her mind), but she shines in this film. She has no lines, and yet somehow through her physicality and facial expressions, she creates the full-blooded character of Elisa. And the other actors are amazing as well. Richard Jenkins as Giles and his soft sadness, Michael Shannon's slow descent into insanity as Strickland, Octavia Spencer's loyalty and angry defiance that she only dares show when the domineering threat disappears... They all become their characters, and god if it isn't a scintillating feast.
Anyway, in conclusion, go watch The Shape of Water if you haven't.
Happy Saturday (I didn't like the Try Guys sketch from SNL much this week. It was slightly insensitive. Also, happy second to last day of break!)!!
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