Search
Search results
Bob Mann (459 KP) rated The Shape of Water (2017) in Movies
Sep 29, 2021
A mystical tale of fish and fingers.
With perfect timing after scooping 13 Oscar nominations, “The Shape of Water” arrives for preview screenings in the UK. Is it worth all the hype?
Well, in a word, yes.
Not since Spielberg entranced the world in 1982 with a love story between an isolated and lonely child and an alien, stranded a million light-years from home, have we seen a magical fairy-tale so well told.
Cleaning up at the (box) office. Sally Hawkins and Doug Jones as the creature.
Here Lewisham’s own Sally Hawkins (“Paddington”, “Godzilla“) plays Elisa Esposito, an attractive but mousy mute living above a cinema and next door to her best friend: a struggling artist called Giles (Richard Jenkins). Sexually-frustrated, Elisa works out those tensions in the bath every morning before heading off to work as a cleaner at a government research institute. Together with partner Zelda Fuller (Octavia Spencer, “Hidden Figures“) she is asked to clean a highly secured room where a mysterious aquatic creature is being studied by the cruel and militaristic Strickland (Michael Shannon, “Midnight Special“, “Nocturnal Animals“) and the more compassionate scientist Hoffstetler. (The latter is played by Michael Stuhlbarg (“Miss Sloane“, “Steve Jobs“) in a performance that wasn’t recognised by the Academy, but for me really held the film’s story together). Elisa forms a relationship with the creature, and as the scientific investigations turn darker, she becomes determined to help him.
When you think about it, the similarities in the screenplay with E.T. are quite striking. But this is most definitely not a kid’s film, containing full frontal nudity, sex and some considerable violence, some of it “hands-over-the-eyes” worthy. Most of this violence comes courtesy of Shannon’s character, who is truly monstrous. He is uncontrollably vicious, single-minded and amoral: a hand over the mouth to silence his wife during vigourous sex cleverly belies where his true lust currently lies. (Shannon is just so convincing in all of his roles that, after “Nocturnal Animals“, it is a bit of a surprise to see that he is still alive and well!)
It’s worth pointing out for balance at this point that my wife thought this portrayal was over-egged for its villany, and she rated the film less highly than I did because of it.
Michael Shannon as evil incarnate.
So its no Oscar nomination this time for Shannon as a supporting actor. But that honour goes to Richard Jenkins, who is spectacularly good as the movie-musical-loving and pie-munching neighbour who is drawn unwillingly into Elisa’s plans. Giles is a richly fashioned character – also the film’s narrator – who struggles to fit in with the cruel and rascist 1962 world that he finds himself in. “Sometimes I think I was born too early or too late for my life” he bemoans to the creature whose loneliness he relates to. A scene in a cafe where he fastidiously wipes all traces of pie-filling from his tongue is masterfully done.
Richard Hawkins and Sally Hawkins, hatching a plan.
Octavia Spencer is also Oscar nominated for Best Supporting Actress, and it’s a magical partnership she shares with Hawkins, with each bouncing off each other wonderfully.
This leads to a ‘no brainer’ Oscar nomination for Sally Hawkins who delivers a star turn. She has to go through such a huge range of emotions in this film, and she genuinely makes you really care about the outcome like few films this year. It’s a little tricky since I haven’t seen “I Tonya” or “Ladybird” yet, but I would have thought that Ms Hawkins is going to possibly give Frances McDormand the closest run for her money on March 4th. My money would still be on McDormand for “3 Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri“, but the Oscar voters are bound to love “The Shape of Water”. For like “La La Land” last year, the film is (rather surprisingly for me) another love letter to Hollywood’s golden years, with Elisa and Giles living out their lives with classic movie music and dance numbers: a medium that Elisa only ever truly finds here “voice” through.
Eliza and Zelda about to give two fingers to the establishment.
In the technical categories the Oscar nominations were for Cinematography (Dan Laustsen); Film Editing (Sidney Wolinsky); Sound Editing (Nathan Robitaille and Nelson Ferreira); Sound Mixing (Glen Gauthier, Christian Cooke and Brad Zoern); Production Design (Paul D. Austerberry, Jeffrey A. Melvin and Shane Vieau); Original Score (Alexandre Desplat) and Costume Design (Luis Sequeira). And you really wouldn’t want to bet against any of these not to win, for the film is a technical delight. Right from the dreamlike opening titles (arguably, they missed a deserved nomination here for Visual Effects), the film is gorgeous to look at, with such brilliant detail in the production design that there is interesting stuff to look at in every frame. And the film editing is extraordinary: Elisa wobbles on the bucket she’s standing on, but it’s Strickland’s butt, perched on a table, that slips off. This is a film that deserves multiple repeat viewings.
The monster feeding the monster. Nick Searcy as General Hoyt with Strickland (Michael Shannon).
An the helm is the multi-talented Guillermo del Toro (“Pacific Rim”, “Crimson Peak”) who both directed and co-wrote the exceptionally smart screenplay (with Vanessa Taylor, “Divergent”) and is nominated for both. I actually found the story to be rather predictable, as regards Elisa’s story arc, but that in no way reduced my enjoyment of the film. For the “original screenplay” is nothing if not “original”…. it’s witty, intelligent and shocking at different turns.
The violence and sex won’t be for everyone… but this is a deep and rich movie experience that everyone who loves the movies should at least appreciate… hopefully in a dry cinema!
Well, in a word, yes.
Not since Spielberg entranced the world in 1982 with a love story between an isolated and lonely child and an alien, stranded a million light-years from home, have we seen a magical fairy-tale so well told.
Cleaning up at the (box) office. Sally Hawkins and Doug Jones as the creature.
Here Lewisham’s own Sally Hawkins (“Paddington”, “Godzilla“) plays Elisa Esposito, an attractive but mousy mute living above a cinema and next door to her best friend: a struggling artist called Giles (Richard Jenkins). Sexually-frustrated, Elisa works out those tensions in the bath every morning before heading off to work as a cleaner at a government research institute. Together with partner Zelda Fuller (Octavia Spencer, “Hidden Figures“) she is asked to clean a highly secured room where a mysterious aquatic creature is being studied by the cruel and militaristic Strickland (Michael Shannon, “Midnight Special“, “Nocturnal Animals“) and the more compassionate scientist Hoffstetler. (The latter is played by Michael Stuhlbarg (“Miss Sloane“, “Steve Jobs“) in a performance that wasn’t recognised by the Academy, but for me really held the film’s story together). Elisa forms a relationship with the creature, and as the scientific investigations turn darker, she becomes determined to help him.
When you think about it, the similarities in the screenplay with E.T. are quite striking. But this is most definitely not a kid’s film, containing full frontal nudity, sex and some considerable violence, some of it “hands-over-the-eyes” worthy. Most of this violence comes courtesy of Shannon’s character, who is truly monstrous. He is uncontrollably vicious, single-minded and amoral: a hand over the mouth to silence his wife during vigourous sex cleverly belies where his true lust currently lies. (Shannon is just so convincing in all of his roles that, after “Nocturnal Animals“, it is a bit of a surprise to see that he is still alive and well!)
It’s worth pointing out for balance at this point that my wife thought this portrayal was over-egged for its villany, and she rated the film less highly than I did because of it.
Michael Shannon as evil incarnate.
So its no Oscar nomination this time for Shannon as a supporting actor. But that honour goes to Richard Jenkins, who is spectacularly good as the movie-musical-loving and pie-munching neighbour who is drawn unwillingly into Elisa’s plans. Giles is a richly fashioned character – also the film’s narrator – who struggles to fit in with the cruel and rascist 1962 world that he finds himself in. “Sometimes I think I was born too early or too late for my life” he bemoans to the creature whose loneliness he relates to. A scene in a cafe where he fastidiously wipes all traces of pie-filling from his tongue is masterfully done.
Richard Hawkins and Sally Hawkins, hatching a plan.
Octavia Spencer is also Oscar nominated for Best Supporting Actress, and it’s a magical partnership she shares with Hawkins, with each bouncing off each other wonderfully.
This leads to a ‘no brainer’ Oscar nomination for Sally Hawkins who delivers a star turn. She has to go through such a huge range of emotions in this film, and she genuinely makes you really care about the outcome like few films this year. It’s a little tricky since I haven’t seen “I Tonya” or “Ladybird” yet, but I would have thought that Ms Hawkins is going to possibly give Frances McDormand the closest run for her money on March 4th. My money would still be on McDormand for “3 Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri“, but the Oscar voters are bound to love “The Shape of Water”. For like “La La Land” last year, the film is (rather surprisingly for me) another love letter to Hollywood’s golden years, with Elisa and Giles living out their lives with classic movie music and dance numbers: a medium that Elisa only ever truly finds here “voice” through.
Eliza and Zelda about to give two fingers to the establishment.
In the technical categories the Oscar nominations were for Cinematography (Dan Laustsen); Film Editing (Sidney Wolinsky); Sound Editing (Nathan Robitaille and Nelson Ferreira); Sound Mixing (Glen Gauthier, Christian Cooke and Brad Zoern); Production Design (Paul D. Austerberry, Jeffrey A. Melvin and Shane Vieau); Original Score (Alexandre Desplat) and Costume Design (Luis Sequeira). And you really wouldn’t want to bet against any of these not to win, for the film is a technical delight. Right from the dreamlike opening titles (arguably, they missed a deserved nomination here for Visual Effects), the film is gorgeous to look at, with such brilliant detail in the production design that there is interesting stuff to look at in every frame. And the film editing is extraordinary: Elisa wobbles on the bucket she’s standing on, but it’s Strickland’s butt, perched on a table, that slips off. This is a film that deserves multiple repeat viewings.
The monster feeding the monster. Nick Searcy as General Hoyt with Strickland (Michael Shannon).
An the helm is the multi-talented Guillermo del Toro (“Pacific Rim”, “Crimson Peak”) who both directed and co-wrote the exceptionally smart screenplay (with Vanessa Taylor, “Divergent”) and is nominated for both. I actually found the story to be rather predictable, as regards Elisa’s story arc, but that in no way reduced my enjoyment of the film. For the “original screenplay” is nothing if not “original”…. it’s witty, intelligent and shocking at different turns.
The violence and sex won’t be for everyone… but this is a deep and rich movie experience that everyone who loves the movies should at least appreciate… hopefully in a dry cinema!
EmersonRose (320 KP) rated The Buried Giant in Books
Nov 20, 2019
The winner of the 2017 Nobel Prize for Literature, Kazuo Ishiguro was born in 1954 in Nagasaki Japan, but he and his family moved in England in 1960. These two places and cultures have profoundly affected Ishiguro’s writing throughout his career. His first book, A Pale View of Hills, was published in 1982 and won the Winifred Holtby Memorial Prize, and he has since written seven novels and numerous short stories. His most recent book was The Buried Giant in 2015.
It is hard to pinpoint a genre to which Kazuo Ishiguro sticks to as he writes in fantasy, science-fiction, and historical. It can be said that all of his novels have the feeling of being set in the past even when the time period is not explicitly described, but the core theme that connects all of his writing together is memory. In each of his stories, Ishiguro examines how people use memory, how memory affects people, and who we are with or without memory.
Ishiguro explores many different ways in which memory affects people throughout his books ranging from memory loss to dream like memory distortion. In his books Never Let Me Go and The Remains of the Day the stories are told by narrators looking back at crucial moments in their lives. In letting us know that they are remembering their own pasts they admit that they are saying their perspective and their memory might be lacking. In this way letting the reader know that they are unreliable narrators. In The Remains of the Day the narrator, the butler Mr. Stevens decides to go on a journey to visit an old friend and along the way shows his unreliability in several ways. First in acknowledging how memory can change and fade over time.
“It occurs to me that elsewhere in attempting to gather such recollections, I may well have asserted that this memory derived from the minute immediately after Miss Kenton receiving news of her aunt’s death….But now, having thought further, I believed I may have been a little confused about this matter; that in fact, this fragment of memory derives from events that took place on an evening at least a few months after the death of Miss Kenton’s aunt” (212).
In this way, Steven’s is acknowledging human error which both shows his unreliability but gives a level of trust in the acknowledgment that he is doing his best to be truthful. This, however, is challenged because Steven’s informs us that he lies, at the very least through omission, to other characters. A clear case of this is when he allows himself to be considered a gentleman rather than a butler on several occasions throughout his journey. This becomes complex because he is allowing the reader in on the truth, but the very fact of admitting that he can lie further reveals his unreliability.
In Ishiguro’s most recent book, The Buried Giant, he looks at memory in a way that is similar to these previous stories but takes a new approach. His central two characters in this book, Axle, and Beatrice are an elderly couple setting out on a journey with almost no memory of who they are. Throughout the story, they remember or think they remember pieces of their pasts and in the process making them question who they really are. This uncertainty in themselves creates interesting questions of whether or not they want to remember their lives if they are happier not knowing, and if they can continue to live their lives the way they are with their new/old information?
“Yet are you so certain, good mistress, you wish to be free of this mist? Is it not better some things remain hidden from our minds?”
“It may be for some, father, but not for us. Axl and I wish to have again the happy moments we shared together. To be robbed of them is as if a thief came in the night and took what’s most precious from us.”
“Yet the mist covers all memories, the bad as well as the good. Isn’t that so, mistress?”
“We’ll have the bad ones come back too, even if they make us weep or shake with anger. For isn’t it the life we’ve shared?” (172).
In some of Ishiguro’s other work, he chooses to explore memory through the lens of a dreamlike state or surreal views, such as his short story A Village After Dark and the novel The Unconsoled. In these stories, the narrator enters into a new place and finds that they have slowly emerging memories connected to the places and people they meet. The Unconsoled creates a strange dynamic where the lead character Mr. Ryder has never been to this town before but finds himself confronted by childhood acquaintances as well as meeting a woman and child who treat him like husband and father and memories that support this begin to come back to him. In an interview Ishiguro did on the book in 1995, he summarizes the story as “an anxiety dream” as Mr. Ryder continually finds himself confronted with the expectation of him without being told anything in advance. At the beginning of the story, Mr. Ryder arrives at his hotel knowing that he will be playing at a concert in few days and is told he has a busy schedule up till then. At this point in the story, the anxiety dream state sets in Mr. Ryder continuously finds himself late to engagements, leaving people behind by accident and being dragged around town. As the story progresses, Mr. Ryder begins to have memories of a past associated with some of the people he has met, despite being introduced as completely new to the town. Some of these can be explained by the fact that as a reader we are dropped into a story after it has started but the memories of these instances only come back to Ryder after he has been told things have happened. This means that throughout the story it impossible to know whether or not the narrator has forgotten and is remembering or if the town is merely a dream limbo and nothing he is being told is real, to begin with.
Whether taking the more fantastical approach or the those that fall closer to realism, Ishiguro’s play with memory remains relatable to the readers. Each journey Ishiguro writes is designed to tackle something different about memory. The stories ask us questions about what memory and how much it affects who we are and our ability to live in our world. From whether or not we can know who we are without memory to how trustworthy our memories actually are. These questions, however fantastically asked, offer something to the reader that they can relate to. For memory is almost a fanatical force on its own that we all share and try to understand. It can play with us when we take it for granted and offer vulnerability and connection when shared with others. Ishiguro delves into these ideas in each of his works, ever exploring its uncertainty and power.
It is hard to pinpoint a genre to which Kazuo Ishiguro sticks to as he writes in fantasy, science-fiction, and historical. It can be said that all of his novels have the feeling of being set in the past even when the time period is not explicitly described, but the core theme that connects all of his writing together is memory. In each of his stories, Ishiguro examines how people use memory, how memory affects people, and who we are with or without memory.
Ishiguro explores many different ways in which memory affects people throughout his books ranging from memory loss to dream like memory distortion. In his books Never Let Me Go and The Remains of the Day the stories are told by narrators looking back at crucial moments in their lives. In letting us know that they are remembering their own pasts they admit that they are saying their perspective and their memory might be lacking. In this way letting the reader know that they are unreliable narrators. In The Remains of the Day the narrator, the butler Mr. Stevens decides to go on a journey to visit an old friend and along the way shows his unreliability in several ways. First in acknowledging how memory can change and fade over time.
“It occurs to me that elsewhere in attempting to gather such recollections, I may well have asserted that this memory derived from the minute immediately after Miss Kenton receiving news of her aunt’s death….But now, having thought further, I believed I may have been a little confused about this matter; that in fact, this fragment of memory derives from events that took place on an evening at least a few months after the death of Miss Kenton’s aunt” (212).
In this way, Steven’s is acknowledging human error which both shows his unreliability but gives a level of trust in the acknowledgment that he is doing his best to be truthful. This, however, is challenged because Steven’s informs us that he lies, at the very least through omission, to other characters. A clear case of this is when he allows himself to be considered a gentleman rather than a butler on several occasions throughout his journey. This becomes complex because he is allowing the reader in on the truth, but the very fact of admitting that he can lie further reveals his unreliability.
In Ishiguro’s most recent book, The Buried Giant, he looks at memory in a way that is similar to these previous stories but takes a new approach. His central two characters in this book, Axle, and Beatrice are an elderly couple setting out on a journey with almost no memory of who they are. Throughout the story, they remember or think they remember pieces of their pasts and in the process making them question who they really are. This uncertainty in themselves creates interesting questions of whether or not they want to remember their lives if they are happier not knowing, and if they can continue to live their lives the way they are with their new/old information?
“Yet are you so certain, good mistress, you wish to be free of this mist? Is it not better some things remain hidden from our minds?”
“It may be for some, father, but not for us. Axl and I wish to have again the happy moments we shared together. To be robbed of them is as if a thief came in the night and took what’s most precious from us.”
“Yet the mist covers all memories, the bad as well as the good. Isn’t that so, mistress?”
“We’ll have the bad ones come back too, even if they make us weep or shake with anger. For isn’t it the life we’ve shared?” (172).
In some of Ishiguro’s other work, he chooses to explore memory through the lens of a dreamlike state or surreal views, such as his short story A Village After Dark and the novel The Unconsoled. In these stories, the narrator enters into a new place and finds that they have slowly emerging memories connected to the places and people they meet. The Unconsoled creates a strange dynamic where the lead character Mr. Ryder has never been to this town before but finds himself confronted by childhood acquaintances as well as meeting a woman and child who treat him like husband and father and memories that support this begin to come back to him. In an interview Ishiguro did on the book in 1995, he summarizes the story as “an anxiety dream” as Mr. Ryder continually finds himself confronted with the expectation of him without being told anything in advance. At the beginning of the story, Mr. Ryder arrives at his hotel knowing that he will be playing at a concert in few days and is told he has a busy schedule up till then. At this point in the story, the anxiety dream state sets in Mr. Ryder continuously finds himself late to engagements, leaving people behind by accident and being dragged around town. As the story progresses, Mr. Ryder begins to have memories of a past associated with some of the people he has met, despite being introduced as completely new to the town. Some of these can be explained by the fact that as a reader we are dropped into a story after it has started but the memories of these instances only come back to Ryder after he has been told things have happened. This means that throughout the story it impossible to know whether or not the narrator has forgotten and is remembering or if the town is merely a dream limbo and nothing he is being told is real, to begin with.
Whether taking the more fantastical approach or the those that fall closer to realism, Ishiguro’s play with memory remains relatable to the readers. Each journey Ishiguro writes is designed to tackle something different about memory. The stories ask us questions about what memory and how much it affects who we are and our ability to live in our world. From whether or not we can know who we are without memory to how trustworthy our memories actually are. These questions, however fantastically asked, offer something to the reader that they can relate to. For memory is almost a fanatical force on its own that we all share and try to understand. It can play with us when we take it for granted and offer vulnerability and connection when shared with others. Ishiguro delves into these ideas in each of his works, ever exploring its uncertainty and power.