About “The Shape of Water”: Reflections on Hope, Love, Endurance, and Direction
by SaraKay Smullens, MSW, LCSW, DCSW, CGP, CFLE, BCD
The convoluted 2001 election of George W. Bush and subsequent March 2003 invasion of Iraq led me to cherish Mexican filmmaker Guillermo del Toro’s dark, hopeful, uplifting 2006 parable, “Pan’s Labyrinth.” Still, I had no intention to see del Toro’s 2017 work, “The Shape of Water.” Yes, of course, social workers never give up hope, but 11 years after “Pan,” hope has taken quite a beating. With this in mind, I decided to avoid fantasy and limit selected films to those that could inspire fresh true-to-life avenues toward addressing today’s brutal realities – frightening divisions, endorsement of lies, ruthless disregard of others, harrowing murders of innocents, inability to hear a point of view that is not your own.
However, when both the Directors Guild of America and the Producers Guild of America chose Guillermo del Toro as their top guy and “The Shape of Water” led the Oscar race with 13 nominations, I decided it was time to see what I had been missing. It turns out to be a great deal.
(Spoiler Alert! for the rest of this review.)
“The Shape of Water” stars English actor Sally Hawkins as Elisa -- and yes, do think of “Pygmalion” and “My Fair Lady.” In fact, this film is “Pygmalion” meets “Cinderella” and “Beauty and the Beast” and other monster-creature films, where the beast, though seemingly ugly and off-putting is, in truth, rich with capacity to love.
“Shape” portrays the evil of real life demons, exposing danger to all they touch, most specifically the lives of the isolated, without voice, acceptance, power. Those focused on mirror our clients and the determined strength-based perspective of social work that eases isolation, propelling our clients, despite impediments, to reach beyond their emotional and societal imprisonment.
Though details are scant, Elisa is found near a body of water, seemingly abused, with parallel scars on her neck. Elisa can hear, but cannot speak; she is highly intuitive and intelligent. As her journey unfolds, we meet others whose capacities are shunted by the lethal combination of prejudice and pathology -- a black woman, Zelda (Octavia Spencer); a victimized gay man, Giles (Richard Jenkins); and a wretchedly scaled, creature-reptile (Doug Jones), with arms, legs, a necklace of gills, all tempered by world-class rhythm (though he can barely function outside of water – you have to see for yourself!). As I watched, I was reminded of the brilliant, complex BBC 1986 television series, “The Singing Detective,” which, like “Shape,” offered heart rendering musical interlude and a central figure suffering from an unsightly skin disorder. However, in “Detective,” mystery writer Philip E. Marlow (like the series author Dennis Potter) remains haunted, his torment too profound to find relief.
Although initially her opportunities also seem grim, Elisa is blessed with not just one, but two magical Godparents, whom I think of as “natural social workers.” Elisa’s GodDad is her protective, nurturing neighbor Giles, who in concert with her GodMom Zelda helps Elisa to rescue her love. In finally demonstrating the courage to make it possible for Elisa to meet her destiny, Giles discovers his own strength and determination.
Zelda is Elisa’s protector and confidante. They work side by side as janitors in a government lab, where the monster, discovered in a South American river -- locals believed him to be a god -- is imprisoned in a large tank. The year is not noted. However, the unfolding biblical promise, “Where you go, I will go,” echoed in the 1960 film “The Story of Ruth,” is a shining signature in a theatre below Elisa’s apartment.
In this Cold War period, in which the U.S. and Russia are in a race to reach the moon, the monster is at first a valuable asset, but then becomes a force to destroy. Russian scientist and spy Hoffstetler (Michael Stuhlbarg) watches with growing concern as his subject, transforming through love, remains chained after he bites fingers off of the film’s true monster, security demon Strickland (Michael Shannon). Strickland, a sadist who relishes use of his cattle prod and is a sexual predator to boot, despises his attacker, as much as his relocation to Baltimore. His home and home-life, plus certain other scenes, seem to have leaped from the lens of Baltimore filmmaker, John Waters.
The monster-prince and Elisa go well beyond usual romantic depictions of lady and beast, their passion culminating in glorious sexual intimacy. Elisa is a fearless woman whose sexual desires are obvious from the film’s beginning. By the film’s conclusion, del Toro’s signals mesh: what we believed were her scars are closed gills. Elisa has also come from water – her true home, her destiny.
Full disclosure: It was necessary for me to see “The Shape of Water” twice, for at first viewing my thoughts shifted again and again from narrative to memories of a recent week caring for Jordana, my husband and my 3-year-old granddaughter. My thoughts also turned to my own grandmother, with whom I lived from ages three to six and remained close to, always. As Elisa moved from isolation to connection, I smiled as I remembered my grandmother’s down-home coupling philosophy: “Every pot has a lid. There must be a respectful fit. Wait. Do not settle. Your time will come.”
Jordana, a marvelous as well as exhausting companion, is mesmerized by two films, “The Sound of Music” and “Cinderella.” (Be assured: at a later date her older brother and cousins will make sure she experiences the necessary “it is better to find yourself than look for a prince, which would involve kissing a lot of frogs and a lifetime cleaning up after a horse” conversation.) As Cinderella’s fairy Godmother arrives to make things right, Jordana shouts out, “Grandmother is coming.” I do correct her, truly. Yet, stamping her small foot, she clings to her chosen word.
And so….I received the deepest possible direction in facing today’s realities from Guillermo del Toro’s latest masterpiece. His is a film that underscores what relentless cruelty and injustice can make us forget. Only one force provides the vision, direction, and strength necessary to endure and plan until we defeat the true monsters among us (and within us). Its shape in water and all else is love.
SaraKay Smullens, MSW, LCSW, DCSW, CGP, CFLE, BCD, whose private and pro bono clinical social work practice is in Philadelphia, is a certified group psychotherapist and family life educator. She is a recipient of a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Pennsylvania chapter of NASW, and the 2013 NASW Media Award for Best Article. SaraKay is the author of Whoever Said Life Is Fair, Setting YourSelf Free, and Burnout and Self-Care in Social Work. Her writing has been published in peer-reviewed journals, newspapers, and blogs. SaraKay's professional life continues to be devoted to highlighting destructive societal forces through communication, advocacy and activism. Read more about her work at SaraKaySmullens.com.
