The shape of loose stool water

Rating: 1/10 (24 January 2018)

It has been a long time since I last hated my life as much while watching pictures flee by on the silver screen as I did in the screening of The Shape of Water. It begs the question, has the whole world finally gone completely mad? How is this straigh-to-dvd-quality trash one of the best rated films of the past 12 months, and how did it become the winner of the main prize in Venice?
For nothing about this movie feels sincere or innovative. There is so much recycling and ripping off going on here, that I can't help but wonder whether those who love it have ever seen a movie before. The storyline follows worn-out formula of fairytales, the creature is an amazingly unimaginative copy of the Creature of The Black Lagoon, and first and foremost, the feel of the movie is lifted from Amélie - a far, far better movie.
Very little in the movie even makes sense. How do cleaners have such an easy access to the super top secret lab where the creature is held? How is Strickland - the main villain - so bad at his work that he doesn't even suspect the cleaners for freeing the creature? And why does the movie end with such a deus ex machina solution?
In order for the viewer to be able to suspend their disbelief, a movie should be credible in its core machinations. The Shape of Water is anything but. Del Toro doesn't care about logic. He cares about mushy sentimentalism and nostalgic pastiche which smack of infantilism and escapism. Admittedly, his craft is seemingly of a high standard, but nothing about the visual world created here feels authentic, and the lack of authenticism makes this two-hour movie feel way overlong. Curiously, too, the movie is set on the eve of the Cuban missile crisis in the fall of 1962, but Del Toro in no way deals with the paranoia of the Cold War era. Must be because he simply is unable to. Therefore, the chosen era is irrelevant to the story.
Perhaps the best thing about The Shape of Water is its talented cast, but even the actors feel competent rather than inspired. Sally Hawkins is a fantastic actress, but just because she's able to perform without dialogue shouldn't grant an Oscar nomination. Octavia Spencer is fine as ever, but nothing we haven't seen from her before. Same goes for Richard Jenkins and Michael Shannon, although the latter is admirably intense. Michael Stuhlbarg might be the actor who feels most sincere here.
I don't know... This whole film feels like a lie, and hate it quite intensely. There are sparks here and there, a promising line of dialogue comes every so often, but all in all Del Toro seems to think we, his audience, are children. And, for the most part, the audience reaction has been childish. Shame on us, then.