People go to the movies for a variety of different reasons. Some like to be entertained. Others moved. Still some are attempting to understand or dissect the world around them by way of the art which represents it. And when I ventured out to the theater with a friend to see ‘The Shape of Water’, a film I had been dying to see since the moment I heard it was going to exist, it was to achieve a combination of all three.
I had gone in expecting to have my mind blown by outstanding visuals, a heartfelt narrative and compelling characters. What I didn’t expect was to simultaneously overhear the commentary provided by two elderly individuals who neither understood what it was they were seeing nor cared much to try.
Now, before I continue, let me be up front about my expectations regarding the theatrical experience:
The movie theater is a place to go experience and enjoy a film, undeterred by the distractions of the outside world. Theater etiquette is important and essential to the viewer’s ability to enjoy and digest what is occurring on the screen. Under no circumstances should talking, texting or otherwise acting in a manner that might distract from a fellow patron’s theatrical experience be allowed.
Having said my peace, let me move forward by saying this:
There are exceptions to every rule.
Why does this matter? Why is this important? Why in God’s name would I elevate the very act I so often denounce? Because sometimes two conflicting ideas collide and create an unspoken conversation, a clash of belief systems that both signify the progressive change sought by the repressed and the lack of empathetic understanding regarding that shift employed by the status quo.
So it was that the in-the-moment reactions by an elderly couple to Guillermo Del Torro’s masterpiece regarding the ever-evolving landscape, language and incorrectly perceived luridness of love amplified and improved my own digestion of the film’s already palpable message.
To provide context, my friend and I attended one of those “dine-in” theaters where the seats recline, small lamps with call buttons adorn every chair and each place is assigned ahead of time. Therefore, there was a bit of a birth between our two seats and our neighbor’s (the aforementioned elderly couple). I couldn’t tell you how old they were exactly, from the looks of it probably their late 70s or early 80s. They wore large grins and seemed relatively excited for the picture.
My initial impression? I was sitting beside two life long cine-files, there to experience Del Torro’s new masterpiece.
Broadly, “The Shape of Water” tells the story of a mute woman who is as repressed sexually as people perceive her to be physically. Her inability to speak, however, is not so much a handicap, as it is a difference. This is a film that concerns itself with those who are different- those who are forced to repress what makes them special and unique in an effort to achieve success in the eyes of the society which unfairly labels them as less than.
The film is a beautiful, expressionistic exploration of what happens when that sort of individuality which has been shoved so far down into one’s self is allowed to break free. What happens when one soul truly connects with another, regardless of how foreign or impossibly different that entity may seem. Ultimately, the work concerns itself with love and attempts to visualize the raw elegance the sentiment embodies.
My counterparts sitting beside me, however, seemed to miss all of that.
The first utterance I heard from my peripheral was a quiet titter and the words “Oh my..!” Which accompanied an early sequence in the film, featuring a montage of Sally Hawkins’ character getting ready for the day and taking a few minutes to pleasure herself. Without having seen the movie, based on her reaction, I suddenly had the distinct impression that this woman had no idea what she was in for.
As the film progressed, I heard more and more whispered surprised assertions. Without going into spoilers, let me just say that when certain scenes of a sexual nature arrived, her “Oh my”s got louder and more embarrassed. Still, each comment was either preceded or followed by an uncomfortable laugh, either from her or her husband.
What struck me about all of this was that repeated snickering. That subconscious admittance that despite their outward aversion to what they were seeing, there was a part of them that found humor in their own outcry. Some aspect of themselves that they could not hide, something that suggested the “Oh my” was what was said in the absence of words or understanding.
Later in the film, I heard the old man lean over to his wife and whisper: “I thought this was a remake of ‘Creature From the Black Lagoon’.” His wife responded, in a somewhat silly, almost whimsical tone, “I guess this is what the kids want these days. They must like this stuff.”
Those words resounded in my head as Sally Hawkins danced with the creature in beautiful black and white. The thought that this sequence was rendered for, in the old woman’s words, “the kids” was hilarious- but also beautiful and a tad heartwarming.
If the youth of today demanded challenging storytelling concerning what makes people special as individuals rather than celebrating the monotony of fitting in as a cog in the great machine, then it was hard not to be happy. And all of it, all of the comments and the very fact that these two were still sitting in the theater, spoke to their desire to understand, to break through their confusion and see what it was that attracted so many to the film that was playing out before them.
When the credits rolled I contemplated saying something to them. Engaging them in conversation about the film. But I didn’t. I left. I didn’t want to seem disingenuous regarding what I heard, so I thought it best to let it lie as a fascinating memory.
As I was walking to my car, blabbering on and on to my companion about how much I loved the film and how interesting it was to hear the thoughts of a different generation’s reaction to it, I heard a voice behind me.
“Did you actually like that?” The old man said genially.
There was not an ounce of accusation or condemnation, it came from a place of genuine curiosity. From a man who was confounded by a picture that he simply didn’t connect with.
I turned, probably more excited than I should have seemed, and exclaimed that not only did I love the movie, I really enjoyed hearing their thoughts. I said, “it actually enhanced the experience for me!”
Sheepish and a little embarrassed, his smile waned a bit and he said, “Oh, I hope we didn’t bother you.” I shook my head and insisted, it was really entertaining to hear real-time reaction to a movie that was so much about challenging societal norms.
He and his wife chuckled and proceeded to dive into their issues with the film, their thoughts on the outlandish goings-on and, finally, what their expectations had been going in.
“It’s just a silly science fiction movie! I don’t know what all the fuss is about!” He said, waving a hand and laughing.
His wife nodded and said, once again, “kids these days just like different things, I guess.” Her voice trailed off at the thought.
We shook hands and parted ways. I got into my car and sat for a moment with my friend, laughing about the exchange. One thing was for certain, the film we had just seen was not only expertly crafted and gorgeously rendered, it was an important social statement.
People go to the movies for a lot of different reasons. Entertainment is certainly a part of it, necessitating the need for what my friend in the theater labeled “silly science fiction”. But what happens after a decade of silly cinematic science fiction? How do our monsters evolve? How do we?
I went to see ‘The Shape of Water’ with the intent of witnessing a great film. What I got was a conversation between the society that’s attempting to understand it’s ever changing counterparts and the art that’s inciting the shift.
In the (very) paraphrased words of the kindly old woman who was sitting beside me, kids these days are looking for something different, something new and something which affirms their right to be unique and complex individuals. I find it refreshing that at least some of those people who aren’t “kids” are attempting to understand that and appreciate it too, even if they don’t always succeed.
Moreover, I’m grateful to filmmakers like Guillermo Del Toro for creating art worthy of representing the ideals which will help create a better future for all of us, young or old.
No comments:
Post a Comment