The Shape of Water

The Shape of Water

Still in theaters, I was late to the party. Still, adore the film, but part of my experience was enriched by two features: close to Valentine’s Day and the Alamo Drafthouse — always a superior movie experience.

There was lyrical bend to the way the story was told, and the delightful retro feeling, almost a steam-punk flavor enriched it.

At the Alamo Drafthouse, they ran a brief review of men in rubber suits films, starting with The Creature from the Black Lagoon — not ending with a certain Simpsons episode. That was a five-minute, almost academic, overview of the history of Gil-men (men in rubber monster suits) movies. Mostly B-movies, and the point was, in a time of sappy romance? A genuine, loving commercial attempt at a romantic story. No, not an attempt, I thought it was successful. Hit the high notes, went as predicted, but the images were outstanding. Photography, cinematography, the filming.

The underwater sequence, and the weirdly sexual nature, then, to have a star be a mute, that, in itself, too cool.

The star, other than the monster himself. Rubber suits have come a long way, be my guess.

The Shape of Water

In theaters, now. Perfect VD gift. Best seen at the Alamo Drafthouse, but you knew I would say that.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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