I could tell from the preview that this would be...distinctive. Not necessarily smart or enjoyable, but surely interesting. I might've figured as much just from the title -- or the credit to Guillermo del Toro; even his schlockier efforts keep me engaged. To my slight surprise, both parents joined me and the Meetup group to see it.
In 1962, mute-but-hearing Elisa (Sally Hawkins) is a custodian at a U.S. government facility that starts housing a sensitive secret: an unnamed amphibious biped (Doug Jones, of course) reminiscent of the Creature from the Black Lagoon. He's dangerous to those he deems enemies, but Elisa senses a kindred spirit and treats him nicely, unlike the people in charge, particularly Col. Strickland (Michael Shannon). She resolves to free her friend/incipient lover before anyone can (a) vivisect him for knowledge that may help in the Cold War or (b) kill him, as Soviet agents hope to do first, tho their inside man (Michael Stuhlbarg) is too science-minded to approve.
Reluctantly roped into the getaway plot are Elisa's only two known human friends. Zelda (Octavia Spencer) is a fellow custodian who helps her punch in on time and translates her sign language for others. Giles (Richard Jenkins) is a middle-aged neighbor in the next apartment, who interacts with her a lot but feels no jealousy as she grows close to the lab escapee, because he's clearly gay. That does make him lonely enough to help on a dangerous mission, tho.
If the "lover" mention above didn't cue you in, know that this movie gets gross in many parts. It's not just overt xeno-zoophilia; Lagoon Boy is capable of violence to make Hellboy cringe. And unlike Hellboy, he doesn't start out as a cat person. Let's just say that season 2 of Stranger Things would give you a foretaste of that unfortunate turn of events. (Did Hollywood have issues to work out in late 2017, besides the obvious?)
Strickland may be more disgusting still. One glimpse and you know he's not supposed to be likable, yet every scene gives us a new reason to despise him. He's brutal, rude, arrogant, womanizing, openly racist (not that that was so unusual at the time), and prone to taking poor care of himself. I think I'd rather meet the captain from Pan's Labyrinth.
For all that, I didn't expect to see horror among the genres listed for TSoW on IMDb. There seem to be more funny moments than scary ones, yet the comedy label isn't there. It's somewhat hard to tell how much is intended, given the quirky nature of the whole thing. When Elisa imagines herself singing in a stage musical sequence involving her soggy companion, it certainly resembles a parody.
On that note, I should point out that the film makes a lot of old-time cultural references. Elisa puts on records, Giles often has the TV on, and they even live above a movie theater (which would play nonstop in those days). Some of the material I'd never heard of. Only a handful have an obvious connection to the events of TSoW. If nothing else, they serve to add a bit more environmental color and assure us that the makers did their homework. (So far, IMDb cites just one anachronism, and it's the lamps.)
By the end, the story, while R-rated, comes across like a fairy tale. I have mixed feelings about fairy tales; they're pleasant only as long as you don't overthink them. Not every non-villain has a guaranteed happy ending, and Elisa's aquatic relationship, ironically yet perhaps inevitably, is shallow compared to the friendship of Elisa and Giles. Neither does the movie as a whole have much depth, if you ask me.
What it has is poetry. Strange, half-sickly, half-tickly poetry. You might think of a surrealist painting in motion, which is fine by me. I don't have to agree with the tastes or opinions of Salvador Dalí to appreciate his artwork immensely.
The Meetup members whom I heard all enjoyed it, as did both my parents; my mom even recommends it to my sister. I find it frequently questionable but still worthwhile overall -- possibly the best of del Toro, in fact.
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