The Shape Of Water. (15.)
Directed by Guillermo Del Toro.
Starring Sally Hawkins, Michael Shannon, Richard Jenkins, Michael Stuhlbarg, Octavia Spencer, and Doug Jones. 123 mins
Appropos of nothing much at all, I thought I'd start by announcing that I'm on the brink of abandoning series 2 of The Handmaid's Tale, having stalled after three episodes. This is partly because the new series just isn't as good. It never recovered from the truly horrendous choice of Kate Bush's "This Woman's Work" to accompany the fake mass hanging that opened the season. (It didn't really work when Ricky Gervais used it in the final episode of Extras but here it just catapults you out of the situation.) Mostly though it is because I started looking at it through Trump eyes, or rather Trump supporter eyes, and this vision of America as a giant The Crucible fancy dress party with noose adorned bodies hanging from every lamp posts and a machine gun toting soldier on every corner strikes me as just a wee bit hysterical, especially as it is suggested that this is something that is just a year or two away. In the first series the juxtaposition of a fantastical dystopian society with the present day, and teasing the way we might get from one to the other, was bold and provocative. But this adaptation of a speculative allegory is now regularly talked up as a real world alarm call. And that just makes me imagine how risible a Christian Right equivalent would be: god fearing Republican folk being forced to make child pornography by the Hollywood Liberal Elite wielding whips and sticks – all guns having been banned.
Anyway, the subject of hysterical anti-Trump propaganda brings us to the home release of The Shape Of Water. When last it was featured on this site it was as a charming little film that was quickly becoming a big deal. Now it is a Big Deal Oscar Winner that seems like a very small film, pitifully insubstantial to support the load placed upon it.
The Shape of Water has good performers making the most of simple roles, and some really snappy dialogue. The General's line about Decency being something America exports because they have no use for it domestically is a cracking observation. There are some lovely moments, but less than I remember and second time around it really doesn't seem so much of a big deal. Pleasant and enjoyable, but no great boundary pusher.
The home release is pushing the notion of the film as A Fairy Tale For Troubled Times hard. (It's the title of the included Making Of documentary.) It is an enticement to overlook the simplifications and superficiality of its handling of the story. Because it's a Fairy Tale we are supposed to just accept that the cleaning ladies are able to wander in and out of the vault where the government are holding a top secret asset. Or that security would be so lackadaisical during the Cuban missile crisis. Or that the characters are so two dimensional. Once upon a time, this simplicity was part of its charm. Now, it looks like a children's film about consensual bestiality.
Which is a shame because when I saw it last year I was really excited to have finally found a Del Toro film I could embrace and enjoy, having been frustrated (with the possible exception of Blade 2) in attempts to like his previous nine releases. It made me happy, at last the hoodoo was over. I'd always wanted to like his films, to see what it is other people see in them. Watching it again and finding this was lost to me is intenselly diasappointing. Disliking the works of Guillermo Del Toro is not something I get any benefit from; it's not like there is some sinister right-wing thinktank sponsoring me to trash the work of this Mexican liberal film director. (Though if any sinister right-wing thinktank would be interested in sponsoring that, I could be negotiable.)
And now he has his Oscar. I can't deny that part of me is a little snippy over this as, buoyed by my non-committed assertion the previous year that Moonlight might sneak the big prize, I had semi-predicted that Shape of Water, with its 13 noms, might break the record held by The Turning Point and The Colour Purple for the most nominated film to win nothing on the night. Instead it won four, though I feel my prediction was morally right.
Of its four wins, surely the most thoroughly undeserved was best music score for Alexandre Desplat, particularly given that it won over Hans Zimmer's* remarkable Dunkirk score, which really was the very core of that film's power. Desplat has done some remarkable soundtracks – I spent years trying to find the Wagner piece that opens Birth before discovering that it was one of Desplat's soundtrack compositions – but this is simply a gentle accompaniment to the film. It sounds like a weak copy of the music for Amelie. Which is approproate because most of the film feels like a weak copy of Amelie.
For the last two years, the Academy has chosen best film winner primarily for their anti-Trump statements, which concerns me. Political statements at award shows have always been self-defeating, but especially now. De Niro's Eff Trump statement at the Tonys was particularly cringe-worthy. Does anyone really think saying that and getting a standing ovation from an audience of theatrical types (and yes, that is a euphemism for gays) is going to sway any Trump voter? Every speech, every late night chat show monologue, every Oscar-winning fish-f*** romance, just fuels their fires, hardens their resolve and confirms their worldview. The left's counter lurch towards elitist inclusivity, totalitarian tolerance seems to me a cowardly refusal to engage, a cavalier, head-in-the-sand, let-them-watch-The-Daily-Show-with-Trevor-Noah highhandedness. La la la la hope-it-all-goes-away land.
And yes, it is entirely unfair to dump all this Guillermo Del Toro's sweet little film, but whoever and whatever his Fairy Tale is, it is not a Fairy Tale for these Harsh Times.
* Hans Zimmer has been the pre-eminent Hollywood soundtrack composer of the 21st century. He may not rank up there with Morricone, Barry, Herrmann or Williams, but nobody at the moment can touch him. And from all those great, and varied, work – the Nolans, Gladiator, the DC superhero, Thin Red Line, Pirate s of The Caribbean – he has just one Oscar: for The Lion King.
Directed by Guillermo Del Toro.
Starring Sally Hawkins, Michael Shannon, Richard Jenkins, Michael Stuhlbarg, Octavia Spencer, and Doug Jones. 123 mins
Appropos of nothing much at all, I thought I'd start by announcing that I'm on the brink of abandoning series 2 of The Handmaid's Tale, having stalled after three episodes. This is partly because the new series just isn't as good. It never recovered from the truly horrendous choice of Kate Bush's "This Woman's Work" to accompany the fake mass hanging that opened the season. (It didn't really work when Ricky Gervais used it in the final episode of Extras but here it just catapults you out of the situation.) Mostly though it is because I started looking at it through Trump eyes, or rather Trump supporter eyes, and this vision of America as a giant The Crucible fancy dress party with noose adorned bodies hanging from every lamp posts and a machine gun toting soldier on every corner strikes me as just a wee bit hysterical, especially as it is suggested that this is something that is just a year or two away. In the first series the juxtaposition of a fantastical dystopian society with the present day, and teasing the way we might get from one to the other, was bold and provocative. But this adaptation of a speculative allegory is now regularly talked up as a real world alarm call. And that just makes me imagine how risible a Christian Right equivalent would be: god fearing Republican folk being forced to make child pornography by the Hollywood Liberal Elite wielding whips and sticks – all guns having been banned.
Anyway, the subject of hysterical anti-Trump propaganda brings us to the home release of The Shape Of Water. When last it was featured on this site it was as a charming little film that was quickly becoming a big deal. Now it is a Big Deal Oscar Winner that seems like a very small film, pitifully insubstantial to support the load placed upon it.
The Shape of Water has good performers making the most of simple roles, and some really snappy dialogue. The General's line about Decency being something America exports because they have no use for it domestically is a cracking observation. There are some lovely moments, but less than I remember and second time around it really doesn't seem so much of a big deal. Pleasant and enjoyable, but no great boundary pusher.
The home release is pushing the notion of the film as A Fairy Tale For Troubled Times hard. (It's the title of the included Making Of documentary.) It is an enticement to overlook the simplifications and superficiality of its handling of the story. Because it's a Fairy Tale we are supposed to just accept that the cleaning ladies are able to wander in and out of the vault where the government are holding a top secret asset. Or that security would be so lackadaisical during the Cuban missile crisis. Or that the characters are so two dimensional. Once upon a time, this simplicity was part of its charm. Now, it looks like a children's film about consensual bestiality.
Which is a shame because when I saw it last year I was really excited to have finally found a Del Toro film I could embrace and enjoy, having been frustrated (with the possible exception of Blade 2) in attempts to like his previous nine releases. It made me happy, at last the hoodoo was over. I'd always wanted to like his films, to see what it is other people see in them. Watching it again and finding this was lost to me is intenselly diasappointing. Disliking the works of Guillermo Del Toro is not something I get any benefit from; it's not like there is some sinister right-wing thinktank sponsoring me to trash the work of this Mexican liberal film director. (Though if any sinister right-wing thinktank would be interested in sponsoring that, I could be negotiable.)
And now he has his Oscar. I can't deny that part of me is a little snippy over this as, buoyed by my non-committed assertion the previous year that Moonlight might sneak the big prize, I had semi-predicted that Shape of Water, with its 13 noms, might break the record held by The Turning Point and The Colour Purple for the most nominated film to win nothing on the night. Instead it won four, though I feel my prediction was morally right.
Of its four wins, surely the most thoroughly undeserved was best music score for Alexandre Desplat, particularly given that it won over Hans Zimmer's* remarkable Dunkirk score, which really was the very core of that film's power. Desplat has done some remarkable soundtracks – I spent years trying to find the Wagner piece that opens Birth before discovering that it was one of Desplat's soundtrack compositions – but this is simply a gentle accompaniment to the film. It sounds like a weak copy of the music for Amelie. Which is approproate because most of the film feels like a weak copy of Amelie.
For the last two years, the Academy has chosen best film winner primarily for their anti-Trump statements, which concerns me. Political statements at award shows have always been self-defeating, but especially now. De Niro's Eff Trump statement at the Tonys was particularly cringe-worthy. Does anyone really think saying that and getting a standing ovation from an audience of theatrical types (and yes, that is a euphemism for gays) is going to sway any Trump voter? Every speech, every late night chat show monologue, every Oscar-winning fish-f*** romance, just fuels their fires, hardens their resolve and confirms their worldview. The left's counter lurch towards elitist inclusivity, totalitarian tolerance seems to me a cowardly refusal to engage, a cavalier, head-in-the-sand, let-them-watch-The-Daily-Show-with-Trevor-Noah highhandedness. La la la la hope-it-all-goes-away land.
And yes, it is entirely unfair to dump all this Guillermo Del Toro's sweet little film, but whoever and whatever his Fairy Tale is, it is not a Fairy Tale for these Harsh Times.
* Hans Zimmer has been the pre-eminent Hollywood soundtrack composer of the 21st century. He may not rank up there with Morricone, Barry, Herrmann or Williams, but nobody at the moment can touch him. And from all those great, and varied, work – the Nolans, Gladiator, the DC superhero, Thin Red Line, Pirate s of The Caribbean – he has just one Oscar: for The Lion King.
